Briefly: Joanna Limburg on The Wintering Sessions | My interview for Keris Stainton’s The Ladybird Purse | Join my Patreon Community | Join me and Jen Pastiloff this Saturday For the last few months, I have been undertaking an endless refurbishment of my home office, which mainly seems to involve shifting books between boxes and creating clouds of dust. Last week, during one of my many (many, many) rounds of rearrangement, I opened an old notebook, and found in it a diary I don’t remember keeping.
“Quite often, I didn’t write at all, and wondered if I ever would again. Put together, none of it makes a story. That’s not how any of this works.”
These words. I have all 3 children under 3.5 years right now and I feel like I have slowly been eroded away into a sort of nothingness. I keep thinking, I will never ever be creative again. (And then I’m reminded, I have created 3 human beings). And I know this but it’s not the same. One day, when I am not so depleted and in my own deep winter, I’ll start to emerge again. Until then, I love your newsletter - it brings me hope.
I recognise that sort of experience because I'm going through it in another form - opportunistically throwing lots of things at the wall in between managing emerging problems, and nothing quite sticking - or else, what does stick has to be tried three different ways and slithers quite far down the wall before finally adhering a little way above the skirting board.
Aug 8, 2022·edited Aug 8, 2022Liked by Katherine May
Oh how lovely to find your substack! I found Wintering during the pandemic as my life was just starting to come apart at the seams, and the idea of the cyclical nature of time was one of the first things that truly gave me comfort. I’ve recommended it to so many people, including someone just today! Excited to dive into more of your writing.
I am absolutely ecstatic to know you are on Substack! And this particular newsletter, oh. It seems I’m about 8 years behind you, having just discovered I’m Autistic, a struggling writer married to another struggling writer, in mountains of debt and still paying off the birth of my 17 month old (god bless America, as they say!). All I can say is I am thankful to know this kind of thing has been done before, and perhaps it might come out okay (or at least something like it) in the end. So looking forward to more “Stray Attention” - thank you!
What a lovely surprise your email was Katherine! I was trying to think how it found it’s way into my inbox and then I remembered I found you thanks to the wonderful On Being. Please keep it up!
I've been writing a diary on and off since I was 16 - so that's 50 years in total. I very rarely read back anything from my 20s because it's so cringe/deluded. Actually so is much of what I recorded in my late 30s and early 40s. I was a spectacular failure at life in so many ways - abusive relationship, spaffing hard-earned money away trying to please everyone, dishonest with myself and others around me, manipulative. But now I'm fine, happier than ever, have a cracking son of 26 who I really really like as a person, and I'm comfortable in my own skin. I write every day but again don't ever go back to it. I don't really know why, and I don't really know why I write in the first place, although as an incredibly 'nosey' person I like to think someone will enjoy peering into the crevices of my life when I'm dead. See? - still deluded lol.
Reading this now, I'm struck by the coincidence. I just had a realization that failure is the feeling I need to be willing to embrace. To really allow it rather than busily grasping anything but.
“Quite often, I didn’t write at all, and wondered if I ever would again. Put together, none of it makes a story. That’s not how any of this works.”
These words. I have all 3 children under 3.5 years right now and I feel like I have slowly been eroded away into a sort of nothingness. I keep thinking, I will never ever be creative again. (And then I’m reminded, I have created 3 human beings). And I know this but it’s not the same. One day, when I am not so depleted and in my own deep winter, I’ll start to emerge again. Until then, I love your newsletter - it brings me hope.
Lovely to have your newsletter in my inbox again!
I recognise that sort of experience because I'm going through it in another form - opportunistically throwing lots of things at the wall in between managing emerging problems, and nothing quite sticking - or else, what does stick has to be tried three different ways and slithers quite far down the wall before finally adhering a little way above the skirting board.
Wonderfully timely!!!!
Oh how lovely to find your substack! I found Wintering during the pandemic as my life was just starting to come apart at the seams, and the idea of the cyclical nature of time was one of the first things that truly gave me comfort. I’ve recommended it to so many people, including someone just today! Excited to dive into more of your writing.
I am absolutely ecstatic to know you are on Substack! And this particular newsletter, oh. It seems I’m about 8 years behind you, having just discovered I’m Autistic, a struggling writer married to another struggling writer, in mountains of debt and still paying off the birth of my 17 month old (god bless America, as they say!). All I can say is I am thankful to know this kind of thing has been done before, and perhaps it might come out okay (or at least something like it) in the end. So looking forward to more “Stray Attention” - thank you!
What a lovely surprise your email was Katherine! I was trying to think how it found it’s way into my inbox and then I remembered I found you thanks to the wonderful On Being. Please keep it up!
I've been writing a diary on and off since I was 16 - so that's 50 years in total. I very rarely read back anything from my 20s because it's so cringe/deluded. Actually so is much of what I recorded in my late 30s and early 40s. I was a spectacular failure at life in so many ways - abusive relationship, spaffing hard-earned money away trying to please everyone, dishonest with myself and others around me, manipulative. But now I'm fine, happier than ever, have a cracking son of 26 who I really really like as a person, and I'm comfortable in my own skin. I write every day but again don't ever go back to it. I don't really know why, and I don't really know why I write in the first place, although as an incredibly 'nosey' person I like to think someone will enjoy peering into the crevices of my life when I'm dead. See? - still deluded lol.
This entry feels so close to me just now but for different reasons. Thank you for sharing so honestly and beautifully. X
Reading this now, I'm struck by the coincidence. I just had a realization that failure is the feeling I need to be willing to embrace. To really allow it rather than busily grasping anything but.