We don't have to carry it,
that bulk elephant weight up high
over our heads, screaming urgency.
We don't have to hold it, painted red
all day; cram it into every nook
and cranny of our very existence.
We can just stop and breathe
for a sacred moment; let it be.
Resist the resistance and rest in silence
for now. See trees' stippled leaves
against blue sky, clean after rain,
and hear the birdsong far above our sorrows.
I tried the water
of bone-cold intellectualism
that promised a higher elixir, a better view;
but tasted only vomit,
the flavor profile of recycled ideas and half-truths.
So I waited for sun to come back again,
to stream a dance of movement
back into the window of my soul,
to feel the strength I had forgotten.
And found that it was even better than I remembered.
Hello there!
I have been very hard at work in the last year, crafting not one but two new novels.
The first one is a sequel to Wolves and Men. Yes! I had originally told myself that there would never be a sequel, but I stand corrected. My manuscript is edit-ready. And the third and final novel to the series is already in the works.
I am very excited to share the continued story of my characters!
The sequel mostly focuses on new characters, interwoven with main characters from Wolves and Men. It also revolves around the fictional Willow's Bend wildlife refuge in southeastern Oklahoma's Ouachita mountains. You are going to love it!
I also have been deeply immersed in the work of getting Wolves and Men back in distribution. As much as I passionately love writing, I passionately despise the minute details of the business side of things. I also deeply resent the negative aspects of social media (don't we all?) and am continuing to wrestle with the problem of how to best share my work with readers, without violating my conscience by encouraging use of something which contains extremely deceptive and harmful side-effects. It may sound as though I'm overreacting, discussing something as common as a microwave as if it were an illegal substance. What else can I disparage? The television? Amazon? Hip-hop? Corn syrup? Well, not today, anyway.
As mentioned in The Social Dilemma documentary, there are two topics people mention in terms of "using": drugs and social media. I have not used social media in quite a long time, but am aware that the majority of people in fact rely on it as part of the very fabric of their everyday lives. It is deemed absolutely essential to business as well. What was unimaginable to Jane Austen is crucial to today's writers. Perhaps this is so!
If you have a chance to watch the documentary mentioned above, I highly recommend it.
Recent Reads:
The Illumined Heart by Frederica Matthews-Green
Come, Let Us Worship: A Practical Guide to the Divine Liturgy by Patrick B. O'Grady
Currently Reading:
Know the Faith by Michael Shanbour
The Mysteries of Udolpho by Ann Radcliffe
Aggressively Happy by Joy Marie Clarkson
What are you reading this week?
What books have you recently read that you are just dying to share with someone else?
Leave a comment below!
Blessings,
Natasha Wittman
The End
did not come
with a big bang,
a loud clanging, or alarms sounding.
It did not come with exclamations,
was not followed by echoes of indignation.
The End
did not come
with tornadic force
did not take
a dramatic course.
It did not fill you up with rage;
you did not cry out, react or engage
in theatrics as you might have expected.
It came quietly and slowly,
was punctuated only with two last cups
of coffee touching, like two purring cats,
with quiet murmurings of mutual understanding,
with long pauses and silent looks held too long.
It came like the very slow dwindling
of a favorite sad song.
And then it was over,
and the two cups were one again;
not a multiplication, but subtraction and division.
And it was quiet.
And it was (almost, nearly) okay.
And it was very simply, just
The End.
Don't be
afraid
to have a life emergency
to live your life with urgency
to be
big
for yourself
to be love, uninterrupted
to have it on authority
that your light is
always in the majority, uncontested.
No, don't
daughter, don't be
afraid.
But if you are,
then go ahead,
and have yourself,
for yourself,
a really good,
good cry.
I freed myself from the footpath:
the old neural pathways remembered,
they had to be interrupted;
new paths formed,
clearing back the old brush and bracken,
the entanglements perpetually beckoning.
I freed myself but found
that the path was a traffic loop,
the signs all there.
And the breaking away,
the bracken brushed away,
was a practice not unlike
a new kind of breathing.
Josiah holds his skinny teddy bear, named Toothpick, under his arm like a football. He sits in his high chair wearing his snoopy Christmas pajamas in July, eating a bowl of cheerios, scooping them out of his rubber bib with a spoon, while Vivaldi's Magnificat plays in the background, echoing around our nearly empty house as we prepare to move. I'm reminded of the grandeur of the passing moment, the profundity of the details of our lives, the sacredness of life, the gift of breath, the consequences of getting milk in Toothpick's furry ear. It's been said that one secret of great art is the use of contrasts. It's been said that God the Creator is the ultimate artist. And Oh, how He uses contrasts! I study the movement of our lives from state to state, from house to house. I study the movement of Josiah's spoon from bowl to mouth, from bib to bear. I study the tapestry and allow myself to be wrapped up in it, enwreathed by its mystery, resting in its music. I study the rhythm of Josiah's sleeping habits, the rhythm of my temper, the movement of the seasons' change, the ebullient flow of mood and thought. I expand with the swelling of the tempo of the Magnificat and hold tight to Antonio's passion, the passion of man, the passion of Mary. I rise and I rest and I live on these words: My soul doth magnify the Lord.
