Wow, Gary. My own words are failing as I try to respond (which, interestingly, is how I usually experience speaking but not writing). Thank you for sharing this.
You’ve inspired me to investigate Traditional Chinese Medicine. Yes, even beyond its Wikipedia entry. Anyway, I now envision a quiet, calm setting, a healing touch, the comfort of ancient tradition, and little need for words.
That’s not to say I don’t love words. I do. They inspire. Witness yours. But they are poor substitutes for tactile experiences — the release of Yoga, the soothing bite of green tea, and, yes, an occasional healing touch.
Writing helps me sort through mental clutter. And so, I do. “Listening,” prompted by you, is an edit of several 2017-18 journal entries.
When I experience your essays, I often sense deja vu, a first clue that you’ve reminded me of something essential, something precious, something I’d nearly lost. I scan my journals — digital tech now renders them infinitely searchable — and this time it was “aspirations” that linked those old notes.
All of which is to say, thank you, Dana. I’m enjoying this journey, too.
I look forward to reading more about your adventures with bike and telescope. Wishing you safe and wondrous journeys!
Wow, Gary. My own words are failing as I try to respond (which, interestingly, is how I usually experience speaking but not writing). Thank you for sharing this.
You’ve inspired me to investigate Traditional Chinese Medicine. Yes, even beyond its Wikipedia entry. Anyway, I now envision a quiet, calm setting, a healing touch, the comfort of ancient tradition, and little need for words.
That’s not to say I don’t love words. I do. They inspire. Witness yours. But they are poor substitutes for tactile experiences — the release of Yoga, the soothing bite of green tea, and, yes, an occasional healing touch.
Writing helps me sort through mental clutter. And so, I do. “Listening,” prompted by you, is an edit of several 2017-18 journal entries.
When I experience your essays, I often sense deja vu, a first clue that you’ve reminded me of something essential, something precious, something I’d nearly lost. I scan my journals — digital tech now renders them infinitely searchable — and this time it was “aspirations” that linked those old notes.
All of which is to say, thank you, Dana. I’m enjoying this journey, too.
So many hearts. Thank you, Gary. That truly means more than I can write or say.