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Hi Stacey, I like your theme of trying to take life slow and see the positives. I’ve actually written a poem on that topic. I thought you might like it - if you’re interested, it’s called “Nor falling in love” and you’ll find it on Substack at “Thomas Rist Poetry”. Thanks for reading this and take good care of yourself.

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Ah - that's beautiful. Love as a verb.

Something about it brought to mind that Hafiz poem - Even after all this time, the Sun never says to the Earth, You owe me . . .

Welcome to substack - hope you find it as warm as I have.

s

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Wow I loved reading this Stacey and really appreciate the reframe. I hadn’t thought about it before that the onus is on the empty being to go about finding ways to refill their cup when really time, rest and patience is needed. I really love the thought of being a wellspring, it feels both inspiring and reassuring. And yes, very much in the margins over here! xx

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There are certainly seasons where filling my own cup is possible and preferable . . . but others, not so much! It always seems to be the seasons when we feel the most depleted that we're most often asked to do the filling.

It also begs the question about why the focus is on pouring *out*, doesn't it?

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Yes it really does. And yes I agree, I can fill my own cup too but it is much more difficult when it’s completely empty! I went through a period of burnout/depletion (before children), every decision I asked myself if it would give or drain energy from me…and went from there as much as possible, that (along with a lot of other things) really seemed to help xx

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Yessss to being way more than a cup... we are the wellspring... our magic comes direct from the source. Micro moments accumulate and can be great nourishment... maybe even sometimes more than one whole ‘big meal’. Always love your words. Xx

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I thought about you when I was writing this one.

More than anything lately, I've been thinking about our reflex to insist that women quench others, even when we are dying of thirst ourselves. Or the notion that it's not ok to take stock and simply say - I don't have anything to give right now - even if it's the truth.

So it's scraps for now, but scraps I'll have to take. xo

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I've found that it takes less from me if I don't fight it. If I surrender and let go in the times when there is only a small margin (or none at all), trusting that it will return later. It's hard. Something is lost when there's no regular practice. But it's easier if I accept it. As you say, nothing blooms all year round. Also, things are happening even when the ground is fallow. Hope you be able to get back to it more fully soon.

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This is so true and takes so much wisdom and grit in the moment.

The farmer in me feels the part about fallow fields! You're so right. Sometimes it's in these moments where nothing seems to be happening that the real work is done.

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Needed this today! My creative brain is absolutely drained, but don’t want to stop creating altogether. 💖

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Glad it found you!

xo - s

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Stacey, Wonderful work. I knew there is a reason I like to read your words. "Write in the margins, in stollen scraps of time " - Brilliant D

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Thanks, Dave. Stollen they are. Missing my regular early mornings at my desk, but it will still be there when life rights itself again. (Which I sure hope won't be too darn long!)

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