“I’m talking about the strange, deep-rooted kind of anxiety – decidedly existential – which comes from beginning to systematically deconstruct the safe place that you have just spent years constructing.”
I relate. I left Manhattan in 2021 suddenly and unexpectedly when my father was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Talk about disruption!
When I saw the photo of Mallerstang my heart sang for you! This will surely be the home you've been seeking.
I've followed your blog quite anxiously over the last six months, as I have been in a very similar situation. Like you I have moved again and again from wild places, all of which have seemed to claim a whole lifetime -and places where I have totally given my heart to the land , but for some reason have known it was right to leave. Like you we moved two years ago to totally new territory (my other places were the Highlands and Cumbria) and also like you I've suffered a life changing illness. Long Covid has kept me virtually housebound for a year now, having formerly been a wild wanderer of wood and river. I feel like a caged , disoriented bird sometimes - and it gives me such joy to see you flying free!
Twenty years ago one of my 'places' was just over the hill from Mallerstang, at the foot of Wild Boar fell, not far from the village of Ravenstonedale (those wonderful names!) This place of primeval magic , threaded with norse myth and medieval legend soon cast its spell. High, dizzy fells and dark chasms, sun and shadow, wild winds and singing becks and rivers. You are so lucky! My Cailleach there was Mother Hawthorn; a lonely, witchy silhouette rooted on the flanks of Wild Boar fell. Sheep and hares found shelter in her skirts, and rather like the old woman in the basket, she swept the sky with her thorny broomstick to chase away rain and snow. She has stayed in my heart and given me great courage since.
But enough of my memories.
Have a stress free move - and many bright Spring blessings for a very happy homecoming and adventures to come! A wonderful place for collies!
Thank you. I don't think I can do this again, so let's hope this coming-home-to-the-north is as magical as it seemed to me, that snowy day when I stood on a bridge across the Eden, and looked up at the house I suddenly knew I'd been waiting for ... I wish you a full recovery from long COVID, richer with whatever gifts and lessons the housebound time brings. Illness always does, much as we wish it wouldn't. But that's easier to say from a point of recovery, I know.
You've put to words something that I never quite realized - you'd think that as someone who has moved 9 times in 14 years, I'd recognize by now why it always pulled a veil of existential dread over me, but nope! All I knew was that each move was somehow deeply unsettling, and also exciting. It's such a relief now to see the connection there to safety, especially in childhood homes. Thank you for sharing. And good luck with the move!
Thank you for this month's newsletter. I hear you and resonate with the turmoil of moving away from land that is connected to the very essence of your being.
I've also moved many times in my life, although what's true for me is that each time it is to somewhere I feel even more connected to. I am now in the beautiful countryside of Ibiza, with a small wood in my garden.
Dr. Blackie, "if not yet in a new place, then in the knowledge and joyfulness of my calling, and the strong sense of vocation and passion for a good few exciting new writing projects ahead." So true. I'm in the same place. I have no home (My home) but the stories and the roses pave the way.
Thank you for sharing. I wish you and your husband the best as you make this move. I retired in 2021 and my hope and plan were to make a major move, however that has not happened. I live every day with the wish to be elsewhere and to carry out my dreams. I am meditating on accepting where I am at this time and am staying open to what may still occur. The blocks have been inflation, Covid, emotions, and my husband's ardent desire to remain "put". These feelings create a discord of a kind and the questioning of why do I want this move so much and what should I do? I am happy that you are writing about home and will look forward to reading your book. Again, blessings to each of you as you read this post and what it might trigger within your psyche.
Dear Sharon, your words, to read as feelings and experience, described within this newsletter resonate in many ways with me. I'm reading these after my walk in a forest environment in the village called the Wildert , Belgium. My comment is not one to feel sorry for but just a share from a Dutch women , 52 years, in her second half of her life and since 1 year, after a relationship from 12 years, single. What is Home and is it enough to feel home within your own nature, your soul or what word you are able to give it what is not our form. Home has so many layers and each of us has a other thought or feeling with it. For me I guess home was first being with my family as a child but it wasn't home in the sense of security, unconditional love, comfert and stilness. As a baby there wasn't a home at the first place for my mother so now I can also better understand why I'm always seeking for a home.....a home where I can stay, settle, feeling me, who that me is......My experience during al those years on my own or with 2 partners is not what I truly wanted, maybe I also now release this. Since the end of 2019 my former partner, and there were then also two dogs, a Boxer and a Dobermann. We rented a Wooden Cabin near the village called The Wildert. Still I live there but now alone, alone with my books, my feelings and must admit my insecurity if I can stay here. If a relation breaks up it can bring your whole, so called real world, upside down. For me it was and still is so unbelievable but whitin my rented cabin I'm not alone. This way of living in a forest surrounded by little birds and prey animals is a blessing als during the last years when the world for me was not recognizable regardless the fact of the last year to be left more or less alone. To begin a new life with no income and not worked as a employer for 12 years is a challange. Less time for mourning although I must say my ex helped me with the financial part. But it is now up to me further and to miss my beloved Boxer isn't nice but I'm all day at work so it isn't fair to leave him alone. The Boxer is more at Home with my ex and is the whole day with him in the shop. Sadly my former Dobermann girl was already not among us because of Wobbler Syndrom. It feels good to let go all my thoughts and just read your letter and the sharing comments, sure the thoughts will pop up. This month there will be a conversation with the owners of this cabin and I will hear what is possible and if they allow me to rent this cabin alone but with lesser rent............Will be continued. Sharon all goods these days with your new journey and I'm looking forward to your new book about Home. Who knows maybe in the near future I read it outside my wooden cabin or elsewhere.
Sharon, sending all good thoughts for the moving journey ahead. The transformations that come from changing places, unsettling familiar and home-created space -- you write about that perfectly. I understand those feelings.
On a move over a decade ago, I had emptied out everything inside cupboards, but couldn't bare to clear out my decorative tins on shelves in the kitchen or visual items in my study until the last moment. I actually put those decorative tins back up after trying to pack them! They were almost the last thing I packed up.
Yes, as a real nester who only really thrives (and writes) with loved things around her, these last couple of weeks where everything is bare and boxed are purgatory!
Discovered this blog a few weeks ago and have become a paying subscriber after today’s newsletter.
The timing of your experiences and this post couldn’t be more...Time-orchestrated.
We are packing house right now (today!) and putting it on sale next month and since 2012 there hasn’t been a sense of “home”. Two cross-country moves since. Not counting to this current home which we bought.
Maybe what the Mayans meant when they said 2012 was the end of the world, maybe they meant “home” as we had known--be it the physical abode or sense of it or our world in general.
The journey's spiral continues and the process of sloughing, releasing and healing on the land that you are leaving behind is sacred. Clearly the Self needs to move forward to new land and new levels of healing in this luminous place you are moving to Sharon. Thank you for your beautiful writing and gift of expression of the intrinsic beauty of life and process. Wishing you a smooth and wondrous transition. Looking forward to reading your sharings from your new home.
i'm almost glad i scrolled up on the page and lost everything i've written; so much love to you dear sharon through these transitions and so grateful for your words and reflections as i am thinking so much about homing and the journeys from, to, and between them. <3 <3
It seems that moving, through the unknowing opens a timeless space which you so beautifully describe for us. Thanks. A space from childhood with all the memories of comfort and darkness and mystery. When we avail ourselves of it, we can sense something of the flow in our lives, collecting all the twigs and leaves into the curves while slowly rounding out our more rocky terrain, where our grey hairs pay witness. Again and again......Adventure and mystery are always there, but mostly we have to get out of bed to make a cup of tea.
So thanks Sharon for taking the time to let us know where you and your husband are in your adventure, as we adventure together with you. Love Peter
PS. I can sort of feel the excited uncertainty of your husband too, about to embark upon his new position. Your own support of and shared excitement will be an important assurance for him in his own dark unknown; so congratulations in these un-lived times of change, separation, migration and mystery.
Such beautiful weaving of thoughts on home. Wishing you good luck with the move. Had to comment because “Mallerstang” strikes deep as a home chord for me, having lived by the Eden in that valley for a few years in childhood (a house called Low Cocklake) and carrying the peace and fells and Roman roads and brown river stones and white ruined castle stones in my heart since. A beautiful place to be.
"from what we cannot hold, stars are made."
thank you for your Words.
“I’m talking about the strange, deep-rooted kind of anxiety – decidedly existential – which comes from beginning to systematically deconstruct the safe place that you have just spent years constructing.”
I relate. I left Manhattan in 2021 suddenly and unexpectedly when my father was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Talk about disruption!
Vanessa Fielding
When I saw the photo of Mallerstang my heart sang for you! This will surely be the home you've been seeking.
I've followed your blog quite anxiously over the last six months, as I have been in a very similar situation. Like you I have moved again and again from wild places, all of which have seemed to claim a whole lifetime -and places where I have totally given my heart to the land , but for some reason have known it was right to leave. Like you we moved two years ago to totally new territory (my other places were the Highlands and Cumbria) and also like you I've suffered a life changing illness. Long Covid has kept me virtually housebound for a year now, having formerly been a wild wanderer of wood and river. I feel like a caged , disoriented bird sometimes - and it gives me such joy to see you flying free!
Twenty years ago one of my 'places' was just over the hill from Mallerstang, at the foot of Wild Boar fell, not far from the village of Ravenstonedale (those wonderful names!) This place of primeval magic , threaded with norse myth and medieval legend soon cast its spell. High, dizzy fells and dark chasms, sun and shadow, wild winds and singing becks and rivers. You are so lucky! My Cailleach there was Mother Hawthorn; a lonely, witchy silhouette rooted on the flanks of Wild Boar fell. Sheep and hares found shelter in her skirts, and rather like the old woman in the basket, she swept the sky with her thorny broomstick to chase away rain and snow. She has stayed in my heart and given me great courage since.
But enough of my memories.
Have a stress free move - and many bright Spring blessings for a very happy homecoming and adventures to come! A wonderful place for collies!
Thank you. I don't think I can do this again, so let's hope this coming-home-to-the-north is as magical as it seemed to me, that snowy day when I stood on a bridge across the Eden, and looked up at the house I suddenly knew I'd been waiting for ... I wish you a full recovery from long COVID, richer with whatever gifts and lessons the housebound time brings. Illness always does, much as we wish it wouldn't. But that's easier to say from a point of recovery, I know.
You've put to words something that I never quite realized - you'd think that as someone who has moved 9 times in 14 years, I'd recognize by now why it always pulled a veil of existential dread over me, but nope! All I knew was that each move was somehow deeply unsettling, and also exciting. It's such a relief now to see the connection there to safety, especially in childhood homes. Thank you for sharing. And good luck with the move!
Thank you! Almost there. And then the also-disruptive, but much more nourishing, acts of re-nesting to come ...
Thank you for this month's newsletter. I hear you and resonate with the turmoil of moving away from land that is connected to the very essence of your being.
I've also moved many times in my life, although what's true for me is that each time it is to somewhere I feel even more connected to. I am now in the beautiful countryside of Ibiza, with a small wood in my garden.
Blessings for your move. x
Dr. Blackie, "if not yet in a new place, then in the knowledge and joyfulness of my calling, and the strong sense of vocation and passion for a good few exciting new writing projects ahead." So true. I'm in the same place. I have no home (My home) but the stories and the roses pave the way.
Thank you, Laura.
https://lauralasottile.substack.com
Thank you for sharing. I wish you and your husband the best as you make this move. I retired in 2021 and my hope and plan were to make a major move, however that has not happened. I live every day with the wish to be elsewhere and to carry out my dreams. I am meditating on accepting where I am at this time and am staying open to what may still occur. The blocks have been inflation, Covid, emotions, and my husband's ardent desire to remain "put". These feelings create a discord of a kind and the questioning of why do I want this move so much and what should I do? I am happy that you are writing about home and will look forward to reading your book. Again, blessings to each of you as you read this post and what it might trigger within your psyche.
Dear Sharon, your words, to read as feelings and experience, described within this newsletter resonate in many ways with me. I'm reading these after my walk in a forest environment in the village called the Wildert , Belgium. My comment is not one to feel sorry for but just a share from a Dutch women , 52 years, in her second half of her life and since 1 year, after a relationship from 12 years, single. What is Home and is it enough to feel home within your own nature, your soul or what word you are able to give it what is not our form. Home has so many layers and each of us has a other thought or feeling with it. For me I guess home was first being with my family as a child but it wasn't home in the sense of security, unconditional love, comfert and stilness. As a baby there wasn't a home at the first place for my mother so now I can also better understand why I'm always seeking for a home.....a home where I can stay, settle, feeling me, who that me is......My experience during al those years on my own or with 2 partners is not what I truly wanted, maybe I also now release this. Since the end of 2019 my former partner, and there were then also two dogs, a Boxer and a Dobermann. We rented a Wooden Cabin near the village called The Wildert. Still I live there but now alone, alone with my books, my feelings and must admit my insecurity if I can stay here. If a relation breaks up it can bring your whole, so called real world, upside down. For me it was and still is so unbelievable but whitin my rented cabin I'm not alone. This way of living in a forest surrounded by little birds and prey animals is a blessing als during the last years when the world for me was not recognizable regardless the fact of the last year to be left more or less alone. To begin a new life with no income and not worked as a employer for 12 years is a challange. Less time for mourning although I must say my ex helped me with the financial part. But it is now up to me further and to miss my beloved Boxer isn't nice but I'm all day at work so it isn't fair to leave him alone. The Boxer is more at Home with my ex and is the whole day with him in the shop. Sadly my former Dobermann girl was already not among us because of Wobbler Syndrom. It feels good to let go all my thoughts and just read your letter and the sharing comments, sure the thoughts will pop up. This month there will be a conversation with the owners of this cabin and I will hear what is possible and if they allow me to rent this cabin alone but with lesser rent............Will be continued. Sharon all goods these days with your new journey and I'm looking forward to your new book about Home. Who knows maybe in the near future I read it outside my wooden cabin or elsewhere.
Sharon, sending all good thoughts for the moving journey ahead. The transformations that come from changing places, unsettling familiar and home-created space -- you write about that perfectly. I understand those feelings.
On a move over a decade ago, I had emptied out everything inside cupboards, but couldn't bare to clear out my decorative tins on shelves in the kitchen or visual items in my study until the last moment. I actually put those decorative tins back up after trying to pack them! They were almost the last thing I packed up.
Yes, as a real nester who only really thrives (and writes) with loved things around her, these last couple of weeks where everything is bare and boxed are purgatory!
WS Merwin- what a fine poem!
Discovered this blog a few weeks ago and have become a paying subscriber after today’s newsletter.
The timing of your experiences and this post couldn’t be more...Time-orchestrated.
We are packing house right now (today!) and putting it on sale next month and since 2012 there hasn’t been a sense of “home”. Two cross-country moves since. Not counting to this current home which we bought.
Maybe what the Mayans meant when they said 2012 was the end of the world, maybe they meant “home” as we had known--be it the physical abode or sense of it or our world in general.
Oh, so much to say about home. But then that is the subject of my next book. Hope you have a smooth ride.
The journey's spiral continues and the process of sloughing, releasing and healing on the land that you are leaving behind is sacred. Clearly the Self needs to move forward to new land and new levels of healing in this luminous place you are moving to Sharon. Thank you for your beautiful writing and gift of expression of the intrinsic beauty of life and process. Wishing you a smooth and wondrous transition. Looking forward to reading your sharings from your new home.
i'm almost glad i scrolled up on the page and lost everything i've written; so much love to you dear sharon through these transitions and so grateful for your words and reflections as i am thinking so much about homing and the journeys from, to, and between them. <3 <3
It seems that moving, through the unknowing opens a timeless space which you so beautifully describe for us. Thanks. A space from childhood with all the memories of comfort and darkness and mystery. When we avail ourselves of it, we can sense something of the flow in our lives, collecting all the twigs and leaves into the curves while slowly rounding out our more rocky terrain, where our grey hairs pay witness. Again and again......Adventure and mystery are always there, but mostly we have to get out of bed to make a cup of tea.
So thanks Sharon for taking the time to let us know where you and your husband are in your adventure, as we adventure together with you. Love Peter
PS. I can sort of feel the excited uncertainty of your husband too, about to embark upon his new position. Your own support of and shared excitement will be an important assurance for him in his own dark unknown; so congratulations in these un-lived times of change, separation, migration and mystery.
Such beautiful weaving of thoughts on home. Wishing you good luck with the move. Had to comment because “Mallerstang” strikes deep as a home chord for me, having lived by the Eden in that valley for a few years in childhood (a house called Low Cocklake) and carrying the peace and fells and Roman roads and brown river stones and white ruined castle stones in my heart since. A beautiful place to be.
We will also be at Cocklake. Small world!
Travel well, Sharon. Another river awaits. 'The Valley Spirit never dies'. x
Thank you, lovely. Come see us there by the riverside. The idea of being by the water again is the most nourishing food for the soul. x
Backpack and bubbly at the ready. x