I began expressing my big Cancer emotions through writing at a very young age. For me, the unique act of writing is what allows me to process and evolve fully . Today, my weekly missives follow themes that weave between the literal fields of my work in the Gemmo Forest, our family homestead garden, and the energy field we all experience. My life now follows the rhythm of the land. From spring through fall, I can be found outdoors, hands in the dirt, working alongside her husband, Joachim, to tend our 7,500-square-foot family garden or with local volunteers caring for Gemmo Forest. When the cold sets in and the fields rest, I return indoors, where I rekindle my love of writing by the wood stove, always with my faithful calico, Ruby, curled close by.
Good Morning from Bucharest
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Field Notes from Lauren
I began expressing my big Cancer emotions through writing at a very young age. For me, the unique act of writing is what allows me to process and evolve fully . Today, my weekly missives follow themes that weave between the literal fields of my work in the Gemmo Forest, our family homestead garden, and the energy field we all experience. My life now follows the rhythm of the land. From spring through fall, I can be found outdoors, hands in the dirt, working alongside her husband, Joachim, to tend our 7,500-square-foot family garden or with local volunteers caring for Gemmo Forest. When the cold sets in and the fields rest, I return indoors, where I rekindle my love of writing by the wood stove, always with my faithful calico, Ruby, curled close by.
Want to read this email on the web? Click here. It will be a little messy, but embrace the mess. It will be complicated, but rejoice in the complications. ~Nora Ephron Dear Reader, The window for remaining garden tasks is quickly closing. Throughout the week, I've only managed to snatch a bit of time here and there when the sun broke through the overcast skies and temperatures hovered above freezing. In those short stretches, I found a way to slip in a few more bulbs, plant a peony root, or...
Want to read this email on the web? Click here. We are accountable to the next generation. We have to give the next generation a world that does not frighten them. ~Avijeet Das Dear Reader, This week I planted narcissus bulbs. Quite a few, I might add, and in the planting process, there was just enough spaciousness to observe my struggle with an inner storm of emotions. Because there were decades of my life that didn’t allow for self-reflection, I don’t take these opportunities for granted....
Want to read this email on the web? Click here. But what now? What am I supposed to do with all these feelings? ~Jenny Han Dear Reader, The fifth time I began this letter and deleted my writing, I recognized that uncertainty is the story. In the face of this collective experience, I am continually revising my most appropriate next action and reconsidering the words to say and write. The constant state of processing what I have no context for prevents me from reaching a place of cognition and...