Poetry, music, philosophy or spiritual inspiration. I can't tell what category this fits in because it seems to unfold in the liminal space between all these forms and signals. So beautifully written Rachel.
This is my favorite Fragment to date. I love the comparison of real life personal experience to a fictional story. Both are exploring how we learn to examine and conquer our fears of the unknown and how we make our way forward. Well done.
There are fiction writers, non-fiction writers and then we have Rachel! As copper and tin blend to become bronze, these observations combining personal life and fictional characters make for a very delightful and enlightening read, that is so much more than the sum of its parts.
Alain de Botton sums it up quite perfectly when he says the purpose of art is to put into words (or other forms of art), that which cannot be put into words - how better can we explain the temptations of a secure and shallow existence vs the scary and uncomfortable feelings that come with a daring and adventurous one.
This sentence especially, will stay with me for a long time: "The depression, the restlessness, the nagging sense of something more—are not merely afflictions to be cured, but invitations to go deeper."
Yes! That de Botton quote gets right to the heart of what excites me about writing – trying to capture those truths that somehow slip through our fingers when we try to explain them directly. It's exactly what I'm reaching for when writing about those uncomfortable feelings that push us toward growth, like that line about depression and restlessness that resonated with you. Thank you for sharing these kind words, it means a lot!
I'm so glad you're planning to read "The Awakening" next – it's a beautiful example of putting words to these hard-to-express tensions between comfort and daring. I'd love to hear your thoughts!
It’s fascinating how you mitigate a natural maternal concern (the safety/security of a child venturing into the deep, either literally or metaphorically) with insight gained from a literary work like The Awakening. Edna’s journey, despite its dismal end, is a journey we all must take in order to be fully realized and spiritually free. You applying this to the journey your son is on in learning to swim provides some thoughtful and nuanced insight into how we have to both accept and encourage our need to venture into the depths of risk and uncertainty in order to grow.
Thank you for this thoughtful reflection. Your observation about the tension between maternal protection and the necessity of growth gets right to the heart of it. As I watch my son at the pool's edge, I always find myself caught between these opposing impulses—wanting to keep him safe while knowing his growth requires risk. As parents, like that swim instructor standing nearby, maybe our role is simply to create a secure presence from which our children can venture forth.
I learn so much from your writing and am contributed to deeply by it.
And this was especially stirring:
“The call to deeper waters comes to us again and again throughout our lives. Sometimes it arrives as a whisper, a subtle discontent with the familiar currents of our days. Other times it crashes like a wave, upending everything we thought we knew about ourselves. Each time, we must choose anew: whether to cling to the familiar edge or to release our grip, to trust the water's hold.”
James, what perfect timing. I've been sitting with that essay as I work through a companion piece for next week—examining the individuation process in a bit more depth. Your thoughtful reading means a lot. Thank you for taking the time to leave such a nice comment.
Rachel, Rachel, Rachel.... simply stunning piece of writing but so much more than what that word conveys. I'm glad I came back to your work and read this. I loved the weaving together of your son's real live adventure of learning to swim, Edna's own story, and the undercurrent of our own call of the depths... the great feminine mystery. Beautiful. I'm in awe of your writing and hope you continue to write and post on Substack.
Oh wow, thank you for such thoughtful words, Linda! I'm touched that this resonated with you. Your encouragement means so much—writing itself sometimes feels like venturing into those same uncertain depths. Kind responses like yours provide such meaningful affirmation along the way. I'm so grateful you found your way back to my work.
Oh wow, Rachel. This was a deep dive of a piece—I found it a little dense and had to reread it, but that's the point, I think! There's a...hmm, I'm not sure of the word, exactly, heaviness? sense of finality? calmness? to this, probably because it's grounded in experience. Really beautiful.
Thank you, Jake! And you're making me laugh about rereading—you're not the first person to tell me they had to read each sentence twice. Still not sure if that's a good thing! 😅 Really appreciate your thoughtful reading and kind words.
Rachel, I am touched and encouraged. I love the self exploration and diving into the unknown even when it’s scary. I can deeply relate. Thank you for sharing.
Thanks Ashley! I’m so glad you found it to be encouraging. It feels like so many people I know are in this phase of life right now. Really appreciate you reading and subscribing ◡̈
Fingerprints fading at the pool's edge, journeying from shadows to depth, diving into swamplands, swimming into the unlimited - what a beautiful sensory call to be brave! I was totally absorbed Rachel, this is so good.
What a powerful piece. I could feel the swell beneath me as I read it. A timely reminder that the venture deeper is terrifying but holds a promise, and hope for more.
Poetry, music, philosophy or spiritual inspiration. I can't tell what category this fits in because it seems to unfold in the liminal space between all these forms and signals. So beautifully written Rachel.
Thank you for the kind words, Rick. That means a lot coming from a writer of your caliber. Appreciate the support!
This is my favorite Fragment to date. I love the comparison of real life personal experience to a fictional story. Both are exploring how we learn to examine and conquer our fears of the unknown and how we make our way forward. Well done.
Thank you, Judy! I’m glad the through-line was clear enough. Really appreciate you taking the time to read and comment.
There are fiction writers, non-fiction writers and then we have Rachel! As copper and tin blend to become bronze, these observations combining personal life and fictional characters make for a very delightful and enlightening read, that is so much more than the sum of its parts.
Alain de Botton sums it up quite perfectly when he says the purpose of art is to put into words (or other forms of art), that which cannot be put into words - how better can we explain the temptations of a secure and shallow existence vs the scary and uncomfortable feelings that come with a daring and adventurous one.
This sentence especially, will stay with me for a long time: "The depression, the restlessness, the nagging sense of something more—are not merely afflictions to be cured, but invitations to go deeper."
I badly want to read the awakening next!
Yes! That de Botton quote gets right to the heart of what excites me about writing – trying to capture those truths that somehow slip through our fingers when we try to explain them directly. It's exactly what I'm reaching for when writing about those uncomfortable feelings that push us toward growth, like that line about depression and restlessness that resonated with you. Thank you for sharing these kind words, it means a lot!
I'm so glad you're planning to read "The Awakening" next – it's a beautiful example of putting words to these hard-to-express tensions between comfort and daring. I'd love to hear your thoughts!
It’s fascinating how you mitigate a natural maternal concern (the safety/security of a child venturing into the deep, either literally or metaphorically) with insight gained from a literary work like The Awakening. Edna’s journey, despite its dismal end, is a journey we all must take in order to be fully realized and spiritually free. You applying this to the journey your son is on in learning to swim provides some thoughtful and nuanced insight into how we have to both accept and encourage our need to venture into the depths of risk and uncertainty in order to grow.
Thank you for this thoughtful reflection. Your observation about the tension between maternal protection and the necessity of growth gets right to the heart of it. As I watch my son at the pool's edge, I always find myself caught between these opposing impulses—wanting to keep him safe while knowing his growth requires risk. As parents, like that swim instructor standing nearby, maybe our role is simply to create a secure presence from which our children can venture forth.
This whole piece was exquisite Rachel.
I learn so much from your writing and am contributed to deeply by it.
And this was especially stirring:
“The call to deeper waters comes to us again and again throughout our lives. Sometimes it arrives as a whisper, a subtle discontent with the familiar currents of our days. Other times it crashes like a wave, upending everything we thought we knew about ourselves. Each time, we must choose anew: whether to cling to the familiar edge or to release our grip, to trust the water's hold.”
🙏
James, what perfect timing. I've been sitting with that essay as I work through a companion piece for next week—examining the individuation process in a bit more depth. Your thoughtful reading means a lot. Thank you for taking the time to leave such a nice comment.
Hi Rachel - I'm glad the timing was serendipitous. I can't wait to read your companion piece! I look forward to connecting in Write Hearted sometime.
Rachel, Rachel, Rachel.... simply stunning piece of writing but so much more than what that word conveys. I'm glad I came back to your work and read this. I loved the weaving together of your son's real live adventure of learning to swim, Edna's own story, and the undercurrent of our own call of the depths... the great feminine mystery. Beautiful. I'm in awe of your writing and hope you continue to write and post on Substack.
Oh wow, thank you for such thoughtful words, Linda! I'm touched that this resonated with you. Your encouragement means so much—writing itself sometimes feels like venturing into those same uncertain depths. Kind responses like yours provide such meaningful affirmation along the way. I'm so grateful you found your way back to my work.
Oh wow, Rachel. This was a deep dive of a piece—I found it a little dense and had to reread it, but that's the point, I think! There's a...hmm, I'm not sure of the word, exactly, heaviness? sense of finality? calmness? to this, probably because it's grounded in experience. Really beautiful.
Thank you, Jake! And you're making me laugh about rereading—you're not the first person to tell me they had to read each sentence twice. Still not sure if that's a good thing! 😅 Really appreciate your thoughtful reading and kind words.
Rachel, I am touched and encouraged. I love the self exploration and diving into the unknown even when it’s scary. I can deeply relate. Thank you for sharing.
Thanks Ashley! I’m so glad you found it to be encouraging. It feels like so many people I know are in this phase of life right now. Really appreciate you reading and subscribing ◡̈
Fingerprints fading at the pool's edge, journeying from shadows to depth, diving into swamplands, swimming into the unlimited - what a beautiful sensory call to be brave! I was totally absorbed Rachel, this is so good.
Wow, thank you. I felt the same way reading The Good Neighbor. Still picturing that endless, wriggling column of caterpillars.
What a powerful piece. I could feel the swell beneath me as I read it. A timely reminder that the venture deeper is terrifying but holds a promise, and hope for more.
Thank you, this felt very top of mind for me right now. Glad to hear it resonated.
Everything turned out so well, Rachel. Love this piece. Bravo! 👏🏻
Thank you, Brigitte! Can't tell you how much I've appreciated your generous support and insightful feedback.
Beautiful, Rachel. Took me right back to being a kid, a confident swimmer in the kid's pool who was dropped in deep water. Loved it.
Thank you Claire. Really appreciate you taking the time to read and comment.