I also feel that by some strange witchcraft, 70-75% of Molly’s posts are telling my life with her words. I spend a lot of my life—too much, probably—wandering and gawking. Yesterday I discovered an endangered murrelet washed up on the beach after the king tides...I took many photos, and I spoke to her at length. I told her I’d always wanted to see one of her folk, but not like this...I loved that damn bird so much. Later, still overcome, and certain the world would understand, I posted a photo, and was about to post another, when I had the sudden editorial thought: is Instagram a safe space for posting photos of beautiful dead doomed seabirds? Why oh why must I be such a melancholy weirdo sometimes? Ack. I slowed my roll, deleted the second, but left up the first; I sat with my shame and owned myself to myself and made it through those high winds. Thank you so much. C
I treasure this piece and Poison. Always knew The Wizard of Oz has deep deep wisdom we’ve only begun to mine. Thank you for writing!!
I think this was addressed directly to me in response to 100 letters I’ve not sent and two that I gave. Molly, thank you.
Be what you are. Hard to do most of the time.
This is it. This one.
I’m new here as a monthly subscriber, and I’m thankful that this was the post to bring me here. How affirming. Thank you, Heather.
I also feel that by some strange witchcraft, 70-75% of Molly’s posts are telling my life with her words. I spend a lot of my life—too much, probably—wandering and gawking. Yesterday I discovered an endangered murrelet washed up on the beach after the king tides...I took many photos, and I spoke to her at length. I told her I’d always wanted to see one of her folk, but not like this...I loved that damn bird so much. Later, still overcome, and certain the world would understand, I posted a photo, and was about to post another, when I had the sudden editorial thought: is Instagram a safe space for posting photos of beautiful dead doomed seabirds? Why oh why must I be such a melancholy weirdo sometimes? Ack. I slowed my roll, deleted the second, but left up the first; I sat with my shame and owned myself to myself and made it through those high winds. Thank you so much. C