Thank you for sharing your story about your table! It reminds me of the table sitting in my kitchen which has been with me for over 20 years now. I have a newfound appreciation for my table after reading your story because it has seen the ups and downs of life with me and my family. Thank you for a fresh new perspective on an underappreciated part of home!
By the way, I listened to your recording of Hagitude and read the first chapter of your book on your website. I loved both! I look forward to purchasing Hagitude and reading it! Have a great day! Keep shining your light!
July is my least favorite month too. Ordinarily, where I live in upstate NY, August is the threshold between summer and autumn. The leaves are kissed with the first dusting of gold, the goldenrod and asters begin to bloom, the nights turn cool, the wind brings the first chill of winter. This year, however, August is almost as unbearable as July. I'm wishing I could learn your magic spell for hexing summer.
Hello! I am navigating sub stack for the first time, so apologies if you have answered this somewhere else. I’m contemplating which subscription to get and am wondering if your bone cave offerings are included in the hearth subscription. Thanks!
Hi Gina and welcome! The currently advertised Bone Cave sessions – I have two coming up in October and November – are not included because they were already set up independently a while ago, and they're much longer sessions and very deep dives into story. Next year it's very likely that I'll stop doing The Bone Cave as a separate entity and merge them into the Hearth, so that the four Hearth retreats will be Bone Cave-like sessions. In the meantime, the next Hearth session will be around Autumn Equinox - end of September - and we'll be looking at what the season means for us, and sharing a story or two, poetry and some creative practices.
The story of the table as well as the photo reminded me of my grandmother’s beautiful wooden table in her apartment kitchen. That apartment is now sold and she moved out, but whenever I picture the good times with her it’s always in the kitchen, with people gathered around that table. Thank you for sharing your story and the fond memories it has brought up.
So happy to hear your renovations are almost complete! I moved into a new house in June and there’s still a lot of work that has to be done by contractors (they are all too busy at the moment), so everything looks chaotic with boxes everywhere and painting put on hold. My bedroom has always been a beautiful sanctuary filled with all my favorite things, but it looks awful in there with a torn up wall. I think that’s why I’m not sleeping well 😔 Right now, it just doesn’t feel like home and it’s been a real struggle. However, I am finding comfort in the beautiful outdoor scenery. For the first time in my life, I have a view of the ocean. I keep reminding myself that the house will eventually come together, and at least I am in a location that I’ve dreamed of! The landscape itself feels enchanted, which is really the most important thing 😄
Oh gosh I get so much out of your newsletters, it seems whenever I’m having a glum day they appear and restore me. The talk of nesting and meaningful things, meaningful belongings, the talk of this new wise women book, the poem lares. It was all so nourishing.
I so appreciate what you write about in this piece; having your favorite books and furniture solidly in place. I've found transformation, too, as I'm sure you have, in moving special pieces of furniture, objects, paintings, etc. into a new home, rearranging them in a way that's pleasing.
And color preferences: your backsplash tiles in the kitchen look remarkably similar to some that I chose for a previous kitchen. Perfect natural colors. In our current house, exuberant pink, goldenrod yellow, and turquoise became an adobe brick, tan, and sage green. But we were inspired by the previous owner to keep multiple colors on the walls. Wonderful!
Thanks for sharing some thoughts about your space. So glad that it's settling into one that welcomes you and feels home.
And I took a look at your refreshed website - great! Love the pieces about enchantment.
Just a couple of thoughts. Each time you've moved you've described in detail what you have done to make your house a home and a place of refuge where you can write and entertain. Some of that will be the fire element in you which brings such satisfaction with a job well done and according to plan. Fire transforms and cleanses, is the opposite of water which is about relationships. Your relationship to your new home seems to be the thing that allows you to then write about your relationship to place and your new community although I sense a little aloofness from you but maybe it is still too soon. First things first as they say. Air is the element of creativity and movement. I see this in your writing and your restless spirit. I am also seeing the earth element with you perhaps expressed as love of the material things, your willingness to go deeply into your research and a reverence for the earth herself, especially plants. So we have the fifth element, spirit. You write about spiritual things and we do read your stories. That element comes into sharper focus as we age and behold all that has led us to this point. Striving for balance amongst the elements is the task of a lifetime. In the season of Autumn, approaching, the element of Earth comes into play again. Weaving in and out of the liminal, as you do, how do you practice self-care? I find that work in the liminal takes a great deal of energy and wonder how you do it?
How interesting, Halcyon. Fire can also be about burning the house down when something's not working, and I have to be careful of the desire for that. Striving for balance between fire and water (not so much relationship for me as emotion and flow) has indeed been a lifetime's work. And between air and earth, at other times. Community, yes, but I'm a solitary soul and this is a remote place. It'll come. How do I practice self-care is a very good question. I'd say that until I had lymphoma, I didn't. But Old Mother Death is a great teacher, and I listened to her very carefully. Now self-care is about knowing when to say no – including to my own enthusiasms – and being able to carry the no through. And time dreaming down by the river, listening to the conversations between water and stone, and laughing at unruly jackdaws.
Thank-you Sharon. I wonder what lessons cancer will teach me? I'm at the beginning of that journey. I wish you well and may the beauty around you be the refuge you seek.
I only recently discovered your work and I'm grateful and inspired. Experiences of beauty, delight, and enchantment are a focus for me so this piece is a wonderful sync.
An old hall tree, the wood so dark with age, the glass silver-spotted, sits by the doorway of every home I've had since I left my parent's place. It was a wedding gift to my great-grandmother in 1920, and I have a photo of her, in long skirts, with my toddler grandmother in their front yard with the hall tree visible in the open door behind them.
It never truly feels like home until that is set in place and rubbed down. And the books unpacked, of course.
Oh Sharon, this story is lovely. Our home is also filled with so many meaningful things. I often sit and look around thinking that within only an arm's reach there is always something meaningful -- a gift from a loved one, a handmade item, an heirloom. These 'things' create an energy and make our space feel alive; our belongings treasured, safeguard generations of experiences. . I'm so happy for you that your 'nest' is finally feeling like, home. ♡
I loved this story and it resonated with me as I spent yesterday waxing my mother's old wooden doors as I prepare to sell it. Wood definitely has a story to share. I dominate space quickly. When I was in college I detoured to live in a small coastal town for a few months....with only a back pack and typewriter. My room was bare, but I quickly went to work. I took a walk and picked some roses which I strung over my window for a curtain. Even one change starts the creative overjoy and it did not take long to call this small room my home. For a time.
Thank you so much for your beautiful hex. I also find high summer a sensory slog and have so enjoyed a July spent guiltlessly sheltering and watching the skies unleash with a ferocity that matches the thirst of the soil (and that of my tired spirit) for renewal.
Thank you for sharing your story about your table! It reminds me of the table sitting in my kitchen which has been with me for over 20 years now. I have a newfound appreciation for my table after reading your story because it has seen the ups and downs of life with me and my family. Thank you for a fresh new perspective on an underappreciated part of home!
By the way, I listened to your recording of Hagitude and read the first chapter of your book on your website. I loved both! I look forward to purchasing Hagitude and reading it! Have a great day! Keep shining your light!
Thank you and I hope you enjoy the book!
July is my least favorite month too. Ordinarily, where I live in upstate NY, August is the threshold between summer and autumn. The leaves are kissed with the first dusting of gold, the goldenrod and asters begin to bloom, the nights turn cool, the wind brings the first chill of winter. This year, however, August is almost as unbearable as July. I'm wishing I could learn your magic spell for hexing summer.
Hello! I am navigating sub stack for the first time, so apologies if you have answered this somewhere else. I’m contemplating which subscription to get and am wondering if your bone cave offerings are included in the hearth subscription. Thanks!
Hi Gina and welcome! The currently advertised Bone Cave sessions – I have two coming up in October and November – are not included because they were already set up independently a while ago, and they're much longer sessions and very deep dives into story. Next year it's very likely that I'll stop doing The Bone Cave as a separate entity and merge them into the Hearth, so that the four Hearth retreats will be Bone Cave-like sessions. In the meantime, the next Hearth session will be around Autumn Equinox - end of September - and we'll be looking at what the season means for us, and sharing a story or two, poetry and some creative practices.
Great! This all makes sense, thank you for responding so quickly and clearly.
The story of the table as well as the photo reminded me of my grandmother’s beautiful wooden table in her apartment kitchen. That apartment is now sold and she moved out, but whenever I picture the good times with her it’s always in the kitchen, with people gathered around that table. Thank you for sharing your story and the fond memories it has brought up.
Oh my, Halcyon, I’m so sorry. Wishing you strength through that big old journey ahead. X
So happy to hear your renovations are almost complete! I moved into a new house in June and there’s still a lot of work that has to be done by contractors (they are all too busy at the moment), so everything looks chaotic with boxes everywhere and painting put on hold. My bedroom has always been a beautiful sanctuary filled with all my favorite things, but it looks awful in there with a torn up wall. I think that’s why I’m not sleeping well 😔 Right now, it just doesn’t feel like home and it’s been a real struggle. However, I am finding comfort in the beautiful outdoor scenery. For the first time in my life, I have a view of the ocean. I keep reminding myself that the house will eventually come together, and at least I am in a location that I’ve dreamed of! The landscape itself feels enchanted, which is really the most important thing 😄
Oh gosh I get so much out of your newsletters, it seems whenever I’m having a glum day they appear and restore me. The talk of nesting and meaningful things, meaningful belongings, the talk of this new wise women book, the poem lares. It was all so nourishing.
I so appreciate what you write about in this piece; having your favorite books and furniture solidly in place. I've found transformation, too, as I'm sure you have, in moving special pieces of furniture, objects, paintings, etc. into a new home, rearranging them in a way that's pleasing.
And color preferences: your backsplash tiles in the kitchen look remarkably similar to some that I chose for a previous kitchen. Perfect natural colors. In our current house, exuberant pink, goldenrod yellow, and turquoise became an adobe brick, tan, and sage green. But we were inspired by the previous owner to keep multiple colors on the walls. Wonderful!
Thanks for sharing some thoughts about your space. So glad that it's settling into one that welcomes you and feels home.
And I took a look at your refreshed website - great! Love the pieces about enchantment.
Hello Sharon, you have a lovely home 🌟
Just a couple of thoughts. Each time you've moved you've described in detail what you have done to make your house a home and a place of refuge where you can write and entertain. Some of that will be the fire element in you which brings such satisfaction with a job well done and according to plan. Fire transforms and cleanses, is the opposite of water which is about relationships. Your relationship to your new home seems to be the thing that allows you to then write about your relationship to place and your new community although I sense a little aloofness from you but maybe it is still too soon. First things first as they say. Air is the element of creativity and movement. I see this in your writing and your restless spirit. I am also seeing the earth element with you perhaps expressed as love of the material things, your willingness to go deeply into your research and a reverence for the earth herself, especially plants. So we have the fifth element, spirit. You write about spiritual things and we do read your stories. That element comes into sharper focus as we age and behold all that has led us to this point. Striving for balance amongst the elements is the task of a lifetime. In the season of Autumn, approaching, the element of Earth comes into play again. Weaving in and out of the liminal, as you do, how do you practice self-care? I find that work in the liminal takes a great deal of energy and wonder how you do it?
How interesting, Halcyon. Fire can also be about burning the house down when something's not working, and I have to be careful of the desire for that. Striving for balance between fire and water (not so much relationship for me as emotion and flow) has indeed been a lifetime's work. And between air and earth, at other times. Community, yes, but I'm a solitary soul and this is a remote place. It'll come. How do I practice self-care is a very good question. I'd say that until I had lymphoma, I didn't. But Old Mother Death is a great teacher, and I listened to her very carefully. Now self-care is about knowing when to say no – including to my own enthusiasms – and being able to carry the no through. And time dreaming down by the river, listening to the conversations between water and stone, and laughing at unruly jackdaws.
Thank-you Sharon. I wonder what lessons cancer will teach me? I'm at the beginning of that journey. I wish you well and may the beauty around you be the refuge you seek.
I only recently discovered your work and I'm grateful and inspired. Experiences of beauty, delight, and enchantment are a focus for me so this piece is a wonderful sync.
An old hall tree, the wood so dark with age, the glass silver-spotted, sits by the doorway of every home I've had since I left my parent's place. It was a wedding gift to my great-grandmother in 1920, and I have a photo of her, in long skirts, with my toddler grandmother in their front yard with the hall tree visible in the open door behind them.
It never truly feels like home until that is set in place and rubbed down. And the books unpacked, of course.
Oh Sharon, this story is lovely. Our home is also filled with so many meaningful things. I often sit and look around thinking that within only an arm's reach there is always something meaningful -- a gift from a loved one, a handmade item, an heirloom. These 'things' create an energy and make our space feel alive; our belongings treasured, safeguard generations of experiences. . I'm so happy for you that your 'nest' is finally feeling like, home. ♡
I loved this story and it resonated with me as I spent yesterday waxing my mother's old wooden doors as I prepare to sell it. Wood definitely has a story to share. I dominate space quickly. When I was in college I detoured to live in a small coastal town for a few months....with only a back pack and typewriter. My room was bare, but I quickly went to work. I took a walk and picked some roses which I strung over my window for a curtain. Even one change starts the creative overjoy and it did not take long to call this small room my home. For a time.
I love your floors.
Thank you so much for your beautiful hex. I also find high summer a sensory slog and have so enjoyed a July spent guiltlessly sheltering and watching the skies unleash with a ferocity that matches the thirst of the soil (and that of my tired spirit) for renewal.