Loved this and needed to hear it. I'm currently in the process of recovering from a decade-long eating disorder. I felt so wrapped up in shame for so much of my life, so consumed with anger and not understanding at all the people I felt should have intervened on my behalf and didn't. I can say unequivocally that what offered me the most healing was community. I felt valid and held by other people who also struggle with eating disorders; working through challenges alongside them in treatment offered me the solidarity and strength to begin to address my deepest wounds. I am not fully recovered, but so much of the shame has dissipated through the process of connecting with other folks facing similar challenges. I feel that we are eating the bread together (at times quite literally). Letting go of shame this solstice and moving into the light.
Would you believe that here in Maine, I **just** started a big fire in the fireplace and sat down in my comfy chair and opened up my laptop and checked email and here it is, an email from you confirming that I have indeed arrived at the fire. (Or maybe you just have a hidden camera in my house?) I love your family ritual. This year it all feels so much bigger. It's almost as if covid burned everything so far down to the ground that the landscape is truly wide open. It's scary, but exciting. But scary. Anyway, thank you for seeding my thoughts and for confirming the fire that is currently crackling next to me. Happy winter solstice to you!
Dec 21, 2021·edited Dec 21, 2021Liked by Cheryl Strayed
My mother is passing from this earth. We have a complicated relationship, she was an alcoholic and depressed. I think I’ve been mothering her since I was about 4. She has become uninhibited probably due to the drug they are giving her and there is a lot of criticism, and general vitriol coming my way. What I’m feeling is shame for somehow not ever being enough, though I’ve tried my darnedest. I am feeling defeated, like a fly bumping against a window there is no way to get out. I love her. I guess keep the love and throw away the pain.
Thinking about what I want to bring in and what I want to release as I bite and chew that metaphorical piece of bread. I think so much of this past year has been trying, to say the least. I want radical, authentic awakening and acceptance - and cast out the parts that do not help me become a more whole version of myself. However that manifests, I want to show up for it with open arms. Blessed Solstice to you and yours - when we cannot all safely gather, we can spiritually meet.
As usual this brought tears to my eyes. Just beautiful. I want to start doing this ritual! Shame grows in the darkness and bringing it to light makes us realize everyone struggles with something. I recently heard a Thich Nhat Hanh quote I can't stop thinking about: "We are here to awaken from our illusion of separateness."
Sitting here with the light slowly returning and finally getting a chance to read this. I'm getting to celebrate the Winter Solstice season the way I've always wanted to for the first time, largely because my kids are with their dad this year for Christmas and I am otherwise living alone again. And so I've been able to be very slow and still and quiet, which always feels like what I instinctually want to be doing at this time and is so out-of-step with the culture around me. I've been reading a lot, and sleeping a lot, and going for walks in the snowy woods.
Sunday I gathered with a small group around a big fire in the woods. We shared food, wrote on slips of paper what we were releasing and what we were welcoming in, and then cast those notes into the flames so they would be carried up through the sparks and down through the ashes. I wrote that I wanted to welcome in creative commitment and discipline and cast out trepidation and fear, which is perhaps a little hyperbolic. We don't ever rid ourselves entirely of fear, being mammals, but I think of fear like suffering-- some is inevitable and some is unnecessary. So, I guess I should have said unnecessary fear, but I'm going to trust the Universe understands.
So, today is New Year for me. I'm going to finally download the 30-day free trial of Scrivener, the word processing software that I think will work best with my brain to start my book finally. And I signed up (for the third time, stupid Covid) for your course at Kripalu. My first-ever writing retreat! I'll keep writing my newsletter, because that's engrained in my life now, but I'm finally going to write this damn book that has been sitting on me. I'm turning 50 in 2.5 weeks. Like Ashamed and Afraid I feel that I'm running out of time, but not for writing. I'll write myself into my grave. But I am running out of time and patience for my own bullshit, so here we go...
Solstice blessings to you and your family, Cheryl! See you in May!
As usual, you manage just the right mix of kindness, firm love, and humor, and you give this gift not only to the original letter writers, but to all of us who read. Thank you for the gifts, the fire, the bread. I'm not a fan of winter, of darkness, or of night, but the turn towards longer, lighter days is here, and that makes me happy, along with my regular dose of Sugar. Thank you, and a happy Solstice to you and yours.
I was very moved by both Ashamed and Afraid and Cheryl’s letters. I wanted to add that our president was a stutterer and he had a stuttering boy speak at his …was it, his inauguration? I was So moved and learned some new things about stuttering.
Let go: my belief that I’m unworthy, unlovable, incapable. Bring in: confidence, strength, power, discipline, and radical respect of myself and others.
Beautiful as always. I really think my life would be very different if I had never taken the recommendation, one summer in NYC, to read this book that had a long title and was not at first so appealing to me. Now I think, Tiny Beautiful things, is the book I have most bought and most recommended. Thank you Cheryl <3 In my heart I have hugged you thanks after every letter and every book of yours.
I can relate to deep shame & rage & fury towards the adults who did not help me when / how i really needed help. And for what its worth, as an adult, I did “the work” and doing that “work” worked. And to who ever needs to hear it- I doubted “The Work” required off me was actually going to free me - truly free me- of the cage I was in. “The Work” is an actual treasure map to the “magic key” which is some how promised to my hands, in fact “anybody can have it!” But this “magic key” is locked in a box buried across the sea , deep in a land I know nothing about- not the language, not the social customs, the currency or the weather. “The Work” is learning those things- which takes more than a minute, (which at first felt cruel because i was desperate to be freed but my alternative was worse), I did what I was guided & encouraged to do by professionals. I fully accepted THEY believed “the magic key” was mine for the taking, even though I had some doubt it existed at all. When things started to click, no matter how minute, it was exhilarating. This grueling & exciting journey to the “magic key” was full various characters who gave me respite/clues/equipment/camaraderie thought. The reward was hard won & therefore all the more valuable. The only way through is forward. I occasionally find my self in awe of how I used to mentally torture myself to the lovely life I lead now. And I say this with the scars- if I could free myself, so can you.
Loved this and needed to hear it. I'm currently in the process of recovering from a decade-long eating disorder. I felt so wrapped up in shame for so much of my life, so consumed with anger and not understanding at all the people I felt should have intervened on my behalf and didn't. I can say unequivocally that what offered me the most healing was community. I felt valid and held by other people who also struggle with eating disorders; working through challenges alongside them in treatment offered me the solidarity and strength to begin to address my deepest wounds. I am not fully recovered, but so much of the shame has dissipated through the process of connecting with other folks facing similar challenges. I feel that we are eating the bread together (at times quite literally). Letting go of shame this solstice and moving into the light.
Would you believe that here in Maine, I **just** started a big fire in the fireplace and sat down in my comfy chair and opened up my laptop and checked email and here it is, an email from you confirming that I have indeed arrived at the fire. (Or maybe you just have a hidden camera in my house?) I love your family ritual. This year it all feels so much bigger. It's almost as if covid burned everything so far down to the ground that the landscape is truly wide open. It's scary, but exciting. But scary. Anyway, thank you for seeding my thoughts and for confirming the fire that is currently crackling next to me. Happy winter solstice to you!
My mother is passing from this earth. We have a complicated relationship, she was an alcoholic and depressed. I think I’ve been mothering her since I was about 4. She has become uninhibited probably due to the drug they are giving her and there is a lot of criticism, and general vitriol coming my way. What I’m feeling is shame for somehow not ever being enough, though I’ve tried my darnedest. I am feeling defeated, like a fly bumping against a window there is no way to get out. I love her. I guess keep the love and throw away the pain.
Thinking about what I want to bring in and what I want to release as I bite and chew that metaphorical piece of bread. I think so much of this past year has been trying, to say the least. I want radical, authentic awakening and acceptance - and cast out the parts that do not help me become a more whole version of myself. However that manifests, I want to show up for it with open arms. Blessed Solstice to you and yours - when we cannot all safely gather, we can spiritually meet.
As usual this brought tears to my eyes. Just beautiful. I want to start doing this ritual! Shame grows in the darkness and bringing it to light makes us realize everyone struggles with something. I recently heard a Thich Nhat Hanh quote I can't stop thinking about: "We are here to awaken from our illusion of separateness."
Blazing and brilliant, Cheryl!!
It feels serendipitous that I’m making tacos with my niece and nephews for dinner tonight! 🌮
Blessed Solstice to you and yours!! 🌜🕯🦌🌲🪵
Sitting here with the light slowly returning and finally getting a chance to read this. I'm getting to celebrate the Winter Solstice season the way I've always wanted to for the first time, largely because my kids are with their dad this year for Christmas and I am otherwise living alone again. And so I've been able to be very slow and still and quiet, which always feels like what I instinctually want to be doing at this time and is so out-of-step with the culture around me. I've been reading a lot, and sleeping a lot, and going for walks in the snowy woods.
Sunday I gathered with a small group around a big fire in the woods. We shared food, wrote on slips of paper what we were releasing and what we were welcoming in, and then cast those notes into the flames so they would be carried up through the sparks and down through the ashes. I wrote that I wanted to welcome in creative commitment and discipline and cast out trepidation and fear, which is perhaps a little hyperbolic. We don't ever rid ourselves entirely of fear, being mammals, but I think of fear like suffering-- some is inevitable and some is unnecessary. So, I guess I should have said unnecessary fear, but I'm going to trust the Universe understands.
So, today is New Year for me. I'm going to finally download the 30-day free trial of Scrivener, the word processing software that I think will work best with my brain to start my book finally. And I signed up (for the third time, stupid Covid) for your course at Kripalu. My first-ever writing retreat! I'll keep writing my newsletter, because that's engrained in my life now, but I'm finally going to write this damn book that has been sitting on me. I'm turning 50 in 2.5 weeks. Like Ashamed and Afraid I feel that I'm running out of time, but not for writing. I'll write myself into my grave. But I am running out of time and patience for my own bullshit, so here we go...
Solstice blessings to you and your family, Cheryl! See you in May!
As usual, you manage just the right mix of kindness, firm love, and humor, and you give this gift not only to the original letter writers, but to all of us who read. Thank you for the gifts, the fire, the bread. I'm not a fan of winter, of darkness, or of night, but the turn towards longer, lighter days is here, and that makes me happy, along with my regular dose of Sugar. Thank you, and a happy Solstice to you and yours.
I was very moved by both Ashamed and Afraid and Cheryl’s letters. I wanted to add that our president was a stutterer and he had a stuttering boy speak at his …was it, his inauguration? I was So moved and learned some new things about stuttering.
Let go: my belief that I’m unworthy, unlovable, incapable. Bring in: confidence, strength, power, discipline, and radical respect of myself and others.
Beautiful as always. I really think my life would be very different if I had never taken the recommendation, one summer in NYC, to read this book that had a long title and was not at first so appealing to me. Now I think, Tiny Beautiful things, is the book I have most bought and most recommended. Thank you Cheryl <3 In my heart I have hugged you thanks after every letter and every book of yours.
I can relate to deep shame & rage & fury towards the adults who did not help me when / how i really needed help. And for what its worth, as an adult, I did “the work” and doing that “work” worked. And to who ever needs to hear it- I doubted “The Work” required off me was actually going to free me - truly free me- of the cage I was in. “The Work” is an actual treasure map to the “magic key” which is some how promised to my hands, in fact “anybody can have it!” But this “magic key” is locked in a box buried across the sea , deep in a land I know nothing about- not the language, not the social customs, the currency or the weather. “The Work” is learning those things- which takes more than a minute, (which at first felt cruel because i was desperate to be freed but my alternative was worse), I did what I was guided & encouraged to do by professionals. I fully accepted THEY believed “the magic key” was mine for the taking, even though I had some doubt it existed at all. When things started to click, no matter how minute, it was exhilarating. This grueling & exciting journey to the “magic key” was full various characters who gave me respite/clues/equipment/camaraderie thought. The reward was hard won & therefore all the more valuable. The only way through is forward. I occasionally find my self in awe of how I used to mentally torture myself to the lovely life I lead now. And I say this with the scars- if I could free myself, so can you.
Pure solid bread for the journey.
.