Rebecca- Thanks for sharing this. You are so on-point with the observation that dormancy is not death. In my younger years I thought the opposite--maybe because the world had sold it to me by way of finite measurements, like amount of income, success metrics, and popularity. But as time passes--dormancy becomes an old friend. It knows when to be quiet when I needed it. And it knows when to wake up, offer a hand, and help me move forward. Most of all, what I appreciate about dormancy is that it's a willing mirror. When thoughts crowd the brain and turn into noise, very few things can clarify and filter everything like stillness in dormancy. And only in dormancy, like a blank canvas, can I see myself, my thoughts, and ideas. Your writing is a wonderful reminder of this. :)
Yes, thank you Thalia! Dormancy is a friend, a mirror, an incubator of sorts. What a gift that some of the best bits of ourselves come when we stop, listen, and get out of the whirlwind of the machine.
Rebecca- Thanks for sharing this. You are so on-point with the observation that dormancy is not death. In my younger years I thought the opposite--maybe because the world had sold it to me by way of finite measurements, like amount of income, success metrics, and popularity. But as time passes--dormancy becomes an old friend. It knows when to be quiet when I needed it. And it knows when to wake up, offer a hand, and help me move forward. Most of all, what I appreciate about dormancy is that it's a willing mirror. When thoughts crowd the brain and turn into noise, very few things can clarify and filter everything like stillness in dormancy. And only in dormancy, like a blank canvas, can I see myself, my thoughts, and ideas. Your writing is a wonderful reminder of this. :)
Yes, thank you Thalia! Dormancy is a friend, a mirror, an incubator of sorts. What a gift that some of the best bits of ourselves come when we stop, listen, and get out of the whirlwind of the machine.