So sorry for the loss of Bran, Ro. I know how it is to have a hound as a soul-mate. I love what you write here about hound-connections. And it's so true that the only way through darkness is through.
Reading your post is, for me, something like watching a bird hatch, or a broken heart mend. I can feel the healing in your words, the need to be inspired by faith in tomorrow while negotiating the darkness of grief. Being surrounded by your loved ones and supported by nature's cycles is achingly beautiful, food for the soul.
Yours are powerful words and their balm spreads further than you might know. Thank you for sharing them. I feel honoured to have read this post.
My heart aches hearing about Bran's passing. As the Buddhist and Stoic traditions teach us, our deep bonds with our animal companions make grief inevitable, but they also remind us that this very impermanence makes such relationships precious.
Your beautiful exploration of apples as symbols of both earthly abundance and otherworldly transcendence resonates deeply with me as a lover of autumn apples. I hadn’t previously appreciated how perfectly apples embody this bridge between the physical and spiritual realms.
Ah Jack thank you for this warm response. The Buddhist notion of acceptance of impermanence has kept me going through this (and other similar) times; I didn't know you too related to this concept. I also didn't know that the Stoic tradition embraced this idea. You expressed that beautifully.
Apples! We have far far too many to collect this autumn – a good problem to have. They can always feed the birds and also of course the trees if necessary...
This is both poignant and powerful, Roselle. You see into the heart of things, especially under stress and emotional challenge. Dear Bran and Ash, eternal companions on your journey.
A very interesting post. I’m reading Weathering by Ruth Allen. She describes darkness in similar terms to you to the extent that she writes - … if we can be with it… we will find out new things about ourselves… It (the darkness) incubates transformational and transitional power.’ She obviously writes more but the point seems to be, as you say, you need to go through the darkness. And you can’t travel alone. I’m not as in tune to the natural world as you are, but I have companions. Much love Marg xx
Marg, I'm very pleased to hear that you too have companions. Essential, I think, on sometimes-hard journeys.
I have Weathering but although I read her Substack and rate what she writes about I haven't been able to get into the book. Perhaps it's because she writes too much in the beginning about rock; it's not that I'm not interested in rock/geology and mountains, it's just that I wanted something more human from it earlier on. I'm glad you quoted what you did, though – I would agree, and like how she's expressed it.
I got into it- I know Derbyshire and the Edges she writes about. She spoke of going to your own edge. I went to a narrow wooden bridge where recently I could only walk across the middle very very slowly. I stopped. Asked myself what do you feel. Pete was with me so I was safe. The river Avon whooshed under me. I was afraid I’d be swept away. I waited. Then I walked on. Told Pete. It may seem trivial but I know that part of the river. It’s been higher, much higher. It was something being worked out in me.
Look after yourself, TM and your remaining dog. Xx
I'm interested in what you say about something being worked out in you, Marg. The world is so fully itself, and also so full of symbols if we want to read it that way, isn't it? x
So sorry for the loss of Bran, Ro. I know how it is to have a hound as a soul-mate. I love what you write here about hound-connections. And it's so true that the only way through darkness is through.
Jay, it's lovely to hear from you. And thank you. x
I'm sorry for your loss, Roselle.
Reading your post is, for me, something like watching a bird hatch, or a broken heart mend. I can feel the healing in your words, the need to be inspired by faith in tomorrow while negotiating the darkness of grief. Being surrounded by your loved ones and supported by nature's cycles is achingly beautiful, food for the soul.
Yours are powerful words and their balm spreads further than you might know. Thank you for sharing them. I feel honoured to have read this post.
My thoughts are with you and your family.
Blessings, David.
Oh David that's such a kind response. Thank you. I know you'll relate to the Jung quote and ideas.
I'm touched by your words.
My heart aches hearing about Bran's passing. As the Buddhist and Stoic traditions teach us, our deep bonds with our animal companions make grief inevitable, but they also remind us that this very impermanence makes such relationships precious.
Your beautiful exploration of apples as symbols of both earthly abundance and otherworldly transcendence resonates deeply with me as a lover of autumn apples. I hadn’t previously appreciated how perfectly apples embody this bridge between the physical and spiritual realms.
Ah Jack thank you for this warm response. The Buddhist notion of acceptance of impermanence has kept me going through this (and other similar) times; I didn't know you too related to this concept. I also didn't know that the Stoic tradition embraced this idea. You expressed that beautifully.
Apples! We have far far too many to collect this autumn – a good problem to have. They can always feed the birds and also of course the trees if necessary...
Such special photos. Thanks for sharing them xx
Ah thank you, Chris. xx
This is both poignant and powerful, Roselle. You see into the heart of things, especially under stress and emotional challenge. Dear Bran and Ash, eternal companions on your journey.
That's kind, Wendy. These things bring us right up to the threshold, don't they? X
A very interesting post. I’m reading Weathering by Ruth Allen. She describes darkness in similar terms to you to the extent that she writes - … if we can be with it… we will find out new things about ourselves… It (the darkness) incubates transformational and transitional power.’ She obviously writes more but the point seems to be, as you say, you need to go through the darkness. And you can’t travel alone. I’m not as in tune to the natural world as you are, but I have companions. Much love Marg xx
Marg, I'm very pleased to hear that you too have companions. Essential, I think, on sometimes-hard journeys.
I have Weathering but although I read her Substack and rate what she writes about I haven't been able to get into the book. Perhaps it's because she writes too much in the beginning about rock; it's not that I'm not interested in rock/geology and mountains, it's just that I wanted something more human from it earlier on. I'm glad you quoted what you did, though – I would agree, and like how she's expressed it.
Thank you! xx
I got into it- I know Derbyshire and the Edges she writes about. She spoke of going to your own edge. I went to a narrow wooden bridge where recently I could only walk across the middle very very slowly. I stopped. Asked myself what do you feel. Pete was with me so I was safe. The river Avon whooshed under me. I was afraid I’d be swept away. I waited. Then I walked on. Told Pete. It may seem trivial but I know that part of the river. It’s been higher, much higher. It was something being worked out in me.
Look after yourself, TM and your remaining dog. Xx
I'm interested in what you say about something being worked out in you, Marg. The world is so fully itself, and also so full of symbols if we want to read it that way, isn't it? x
I only met Bran a couple of times and still can't imagine your kitchen without him beside his brother. Sending love xxx
Ah Jan thank you. There's definitely an empty space and an imbalance in the family. xx