Longing isn’t a positive verb. To me it implies pain, agitation and being incomplete, inviting an internal interrogation of merit, skills, worth, and every other form of self-critique. Somewhere I learned that longing was some combination of pointless, delusional, lazy, or just sad.
“If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.” was one of …
Longing isn’t a positive verb. To me it implies pain, agitation and being incomplete, inviting an internal interrogation of merit, skills, worth, and every other form of self-critique. Somewhere I learned that longing was some combination of pointless, delusional, lazy, or just sad.
“If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.” was one of my mother’s favorite sayings. And she was right to teach us early to not expect too much. She had 12 children and a husband that, for many years, drank too much and was often ‘between jobs’. It was safer to long for more attention, less chaos, and time by ourselves, than to hope for the material things we craved.
Now that I have summited the hill, I am excited for, instead of dreading, the other side. I am approaching it like a long slope after the first snow; full of potential. My longing now is anticipation of the joy flying down the other side, as I shed layers of anxieties, biases, and need of acceptance, leaving them in a heap at the top with a note saying, “Marie was here!”
The house in Ireland, which I regularly declared I would one day own, was an up-hill, first half of life longing. It was an ache to achieve the quest of going home. It would signal success, and was as realistic as a Christmas unicorn.
My lovely strands of tinsel I welcomed as my ‘Wild Hairs’! They are a visual reminder of all I left at the top of the hill. They welcome my Crone Crown with pride and cheer me on as I jump into this Fool’s Journey. My silver strands and tiara will be a beacon to welcome all my sister Hags to my Irish home to create magic.
Welcome to the project Marie! And what a beautiful first contribution - such a strong sense you give, in so few phrases, of the place and people you were formed by.
And then the thrill I got when you invoked the longing of joy with that gorgeous simile - 'a long slope after the first snow'. It reminded me of my favourite lines/scene in Eliot's Wasteland:
And when we were children, staying at the archduke's,
My cousin's, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.
But here, instead of that joy being in a long-distant childhood, it is ahead of you, with your 'wild hairs' streaming behind.
Just beautiful. I do hope you will be tempted to try other themes...
Here is your link, and I am adding you to the A to Z on Contributors on the book site and also on the By Readers tab here on my Substack.
Thank you Tanya for the kind words, and for introducing me to Eliot's Wasteland. It seems like it could be a timely read. Plus, I'm curious about this other Marie. I looking forward to working with other prompts.
She only has that brief appearance in it - though knowing that poem there's probably a story behind who she was and why he included her! So much of Eliot I find distasteful because of the prejudices - but then there are some lines like 'hers' in it that I can't help but hold by heart. Thank you again for joining the project.
Longing isn’t a positive verb. To me it implies pain, agitation and being incomplete, inviting an internal interrogation of merit, skills, worth, and every other form of self-critique. Somewhere I learned that longing was some combination of pointless, delusional, lazy, or just sad.
“If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.” was one of my mother’s favorite sayings. And she was right to teach us early to not expect too much. She had 12 children and a husband that, for many years, drank too much and was often ‘between jobs’. It was safer to long for more attention, less chaos, and time by ourselves, than to hope for the material things we craved.
Now that I have summited the hill, I am excited for, instead of dreading, the other side. I am approaching it like a long slope after the first snow; full of potential. My longing now is anticipation of the joy flying down the other side, as I shed layers of anxieties, biases, and need of acceptance, leaving them in a heap at the top with a note saying, “Marie was here!”
The house in Ireland, which I regularly declared I would one day own, was an up-hill, first half of life longing. It was an ache to achieve the quest of going home. It would signal success, and was as realistic as a Christmas unicorn.
My lovely strands of tinsel I welcomed as my ‘Wild Hairs’! They are a visual reminder of all I left at the top of the hill. They welcome my Crone Crown with pride and cheer me on as I jump into this Fool’s Journey. My silver strands and tiara will be a beacon to welcome all my sister Hags to my Irish home to create magic.
Welcome to the project Marie! And what a beautiful first contribution - such a strong sense you give, in so few phrases, of the place and people you were formed by.
And then the thrill I got when you invoked the longing of joy with that gorgeous simile - 'a long slope after the first snow'. It reminded me of my favourite lines/scene in Eliot's Wasteland:
And when we were children, staying at the archduke's,
My cousin's, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.
But here, instead of that joy being in a long-distant childhood, it is ahead of you, with your 'wild hairs' streaming behind.
Just beautiful. I do hope you will be tempted to try other themes...
Here is your link, and I am adding you to the A to Z on Contributors on the book site and also on the By Readers tab here on my Substack.
https://thecureforsleep.com/august-issue-longing/#marieleahystark
Tanya xx
Thank you Tanya for the kind words, and for introducing me to Eliot's Wasteland. It seems like it could be a timely read. Plus, I'm curious about this other Marie. I looking forward to working with other prompts.
She only has that brief appearance in it - though knowing that poem there's probably a story behind who she was and why he included her! So much of Eliot I find distasteful because of the prejudices - but then there are some lines like 'hers' in it that I can't help but hold by heart. Thank you again for joining the project.