The Open Field

The Sunday Letter was my way of commenting on my life through my relationship with nature, but it didn't start that way. Like all things, over time as my confidence grew and my natural self emerged from the shadows, something shifted.

The way we are taught to write in school is all about product, not process. The other writings, the gathering of experiences and expression of thoughts with no one looking is the fertile ground of meaning-making. It has become my way of commenting on my time on this earth.

My journal pages are the open field where everything is welcome and nothing is trivial. The to-do lists and reminders are allowed to coexist in between the breathtaking discovery of a newborn fawn in our yard, and reminders of activities because this is how life is.

It can be breathtaking and mundane, frightening and joyful, everyday and extraordinary.