Beautiful! I love everything about this post. This is how I view ideas too. The past few months I’ve wondered where my ideas for essays have been leading me and then this week I realized my creative energy has been directed towards the idea of slow living. Your idea-as-seedling analogy is perfect for this!
I like your point about ideas having their own ecology, Ann. There is a sense I have with some ideas and part of my mind knows the conditions needed for the idea to grow and thrive. Ego wants to make lists, quantify, etc, etc. A deeper sense of self though gently guides the idea. Thanks for sharing.
I recently read something regarding the difference between a creation and a construction. The author said a creation is loved into being - a construction is willed into being. I’ve been playing with what that means to me. Your letter is a grand addition to the mix.
A year has passed and I am still picking up bits and pieces. My idea has blossomed--her shape is clear--and now demands that I take the next step. Still, I am shy, but the world keeps sending me signs. It is almost time... A photo book is a big step for me but my stride has never been so lighthearted :)
Thank you for this wonderful piece, Ann. I would love to know more about your shy ideas. When you're ready to share them with the world I'll be here!
Excited to see Microseasons in this morning's in-box, I happily made it my day's first read. Your images and sentences fed my intellect and my spirit. Every line felt perfectly warmed to impart all the flavors and nuances of living a mindful, intentional, creative, cooperative existence. I have saved this to come back to again and again, when I need nourishment and encouragement.
Oh Kim, I'm so touched by your kind attention. We are soul-sisters, who share so many points of caring and hope. That makes me deeply glad right down to my bones. Much love to you. 💛
"Sometimes I worry that I'm not doing enough with these shy ideas of mine—shouldn't I be chasing them more actively? But then I remember the Luna moth that once rested on our screen door all day. If I had tried to capture it, to pin it down too soon, I would have destroyed the very thing I wanted to preserve."
I have the same sort of worries. Should I be doing more? I love the image of the Luna moth here. I've only seen one once, when we were staying on a lake in Maine. It was such a marvel, hanging out on the screen door all day. And then suddenly gone when I went to look again. Fleeting and yet also somehow quite permanent in the depth of the impression it left on my imagination.
Melanie, I'm always trying to let go of the concept of "enough". Such a tender human thing. I almost left out the part about the Luna Moth--but I love them so. I have one in my collection that I found (recently deceased) on an early morning hike. The ants had just discovered it, but I was able to brush them off and carry it home. 🦋
Well I'm very glad you included it. What a lovely thing to have in your collection! It's funny how often the detail I am tempted to slash is the one that grabs a reader.
Isn't that the way? Such a lovely mystery. The lines we treasure in books, too, might surprise the author. I feel like whenever I write something and press "publish" it now belongs to the reader to decide what it means. 💛
Wow, Ann! This is so beautiful. I love all your words and thoughts on this process. I think ideas need time to hover and rest, and we need to learn to slow down to listen and wait. Waiting is so hard but so necessary!
Ideas will ripen as we give it time to grow in a nurturing environment. Thank for this!
Noticing seems the first step to things, but then, now what?! I am bad at checking on things where I noticed and noted, but then checking back and asking, is that idea growing? This was a great anology, Ann! I know things are unthawing a drop at a time!
Fabulous exploration! Our productivity driven society doesn’t value this cyclical process of our creativity—from germination to blooming back to decay—instead we are encouraged to always be in full blossom. No wonder burnout and stress plague western civilization. Your approach is so very sane, a nurturing of the necessary darkness.
“Ideas, I'm finding, have their own ecology. They require certain conditions to thrive: quiet moments, unstructured time, space for wandering. Like a shy woodland creature that won't build its nest too close to human paths, our deepest insights need their own protected habitat.”
Your essay also made me reflect on where consciousness/ideas actually originate. Materialism suggests it all comes from the processes of our brain, inside us. But I’m listening to a fantastic podcast right now Telepathy Tapes, and it’s blowing up our understanding of consciousness. That perhaps ideas and thoughts aren’t originating from within but are part of an infinite web that we tap into.
Thank you, Kimberly, for reading always with a mind open to asking questions and drawing interesting parallels. I love the way you think so humanly, and with such fresh curiosity. I also love a good podcast. Thank you for the recommendation!
Such a beautiful and poetic description. I have often thought of the multitude of thoughts and ideas that barrage my mind all day long, as being wandering fragments or parts of some whole waiting to be constructed (not necessarily the same whole). I’m not sure if they’re searching for a whole to call home and I’m the gatherer and logistics agent helping to place them, or if they’re scattered pieces of inspiration that my imagination corrals and tries to piece together into some more organized concept. I have this vision of rooms in my head where I label and store these parts for future use. Some of them fit together harmoniously and in quick order. Others absorb countless hours of trial and error, nurturing and modification in order to fit together. Not always in harmony. But together, none the less.
Christopher, I love how you say this: "I have this vision of rooms in my head where I label and store these parts for future use. Some of them fit together harmoniously and in quick order. Others absorb countless hours of trial and error, nurturing and modification in order to fit together."
I have a similar way of seeing it :-) I jokingly call my tiny studio my Idea Lab--but it's really true in day-to-day practice.
I love this Ann, it's exactly how ideas float into our consciousness. They can't be pinned down but if we don't give them our attention they will float on to the next receptive mind.
Caroline, if anything, it comforts me to know that this is something we all work with. It's that haziness of an idea that's just beginning to take shape. If only I could learn to truly savor that time as something so lovely and so full of possibility. I guess it's a matter of curiosity & trust, really. Trust that something meaningful is "coming ashore in you" as John O'Donohue so beautifully said it. Thank you for reading 🙏💛
I love the image of ideas slowly growing in and through the humus layer of the forest floor. I'm trying to grow into patience, not forcing ideas. I'd like to create a slow practice, unearthing poetry that needs to flow through me, rather than reacting to every impulse. Thank you for providing this beautiful guidance and inspiration, Ann.
Wherever your ideas take you, Ann, your exquisite writing is such a gift to us all. I especially loved, in this piece, how many of your thoughts were intertwined with the natural world. That’s also where I often turn for wisdom and inspiration.
Beautiful! I love everything about this post. This is how I view ideas too. The past few months I’ve wondered where my ideas for essays have been leading me and then this week I realized my creative energy has been directed towards the idea of slow living. Your idea-as-seedling analogy is perfect for this!
Jason, I love the work you're doing in the world right now. It is sorely needed. 💛
I like your point about ideas having their own ecology, Ann. There is a sense I have with some ideas and part of my mind knows the conditions needed for the idea to grow and thrive. Ego wants to make lists, quantify, etc, etc. A deeper sense of self though gently guides the idea. Thanks for sharing.
So good to let both ways of being twine together. I see it in everything you make, Neil.
This beautiful piece is filled with ideas to savor slow. I love this!!!
Thank you for your deep attention Lorrie. It's an honor to receive it. 💛
“Have you ever experienced this?”
Yehhhhs!
I recently read something regarding the difference between a creation and a construction. The author said a creation is loved into being - a construction is willed into being. I’ve been playing with what that means to me. Your letter is a grand addition to the mix.
Thank you!
"a creation is loved into being"
Ohhhhhhhh yesssssss! Thank you 💛
A year has passed and I am still picking up bits and pieces. My idea has blossomed--her shape is clear--and now demands that I take the next step. Still, I am shy, but the world keeps sending me signs. It is almost time... A photo book is a big step for me but my stride has never been so lighthearted :)
Thank you for this wonderful piece, Ann. I would love to know more about your shy ideas. When you're ready to share them with the world I'll be here!
Trusting that joy — what a gorgeous thing to witness. What a fully alive feeling! It ripples outward in circles of love & inspiration.
It begs to be released, that feeling!
💛💛💛💛
Dear Ann,
Excited to see Microseasons in this morning's in-box, I happily made it my day's first read. Your images and sentences fed my intellect and my spirit. Every line felt perfectly warmed to impart all the flavors and nuances of living a mindful, intentional, creative, cooperative existence. I have saved this to come back to again and again, when I need nourishment and encouragement.
Oh Kim, I'm so touched by your kind attention. We are soul-sisters, who share so many points of caring and hope. That makes me deeply glad right down to my bones. Much love to you. 💛
"Sometimes I worry that I'm not doing enough with these shy ideas of mine—shouldn't I be chasing them more actively? But then I remember the Luna moth that once rested on our screen door all day. If I had tried to capture it, to pin it down too soon, I would have destroyed the very thing I wanted to preserve."
I have the same sort of worries. Should I be doing more? I love the image of the Luna moth here. I've only seen one once, when we were staying on a lake in Maine. It was such a marvel, hanging out on the screen door all day. And then suddenly gone when I went to look again. Fleeting and yet also somehow quite permanent in the depth of the impression it left on my imagination.
Melanie, I'm always trying to let go of the concept of "enough". Such a tender human thing. I almost left out the part about the Luna Moth--but I love them so. I have one in my collection that I found (recently deceased) on an early morning hike. The ants had just discovered it, but I was able to brush them off and carry it home. 🦋
Well I'm very glad you included it. What a lovely thing to have in your collection! It's funny how often the detail I am tempted to slash is the one that grabs a reader.
Isn't that the way? Such a lovely mystery. The lines we treasure in books, too, might surprise the author. I feel like whenever I write something and press "publish" it now belongs to the reader to decide what it means. 💛
Just love your post! 💗
Thank you very much, Hilda!
Wow, Ann! This is so beautiful. I love all your words and thoughts on this process. I think ideas need time to hover and rest, and we need to learn to slow down to listen and wait. Waiting is so hard but so necessary!
Ideas will ripen as we give it time to grow in a nurturing environment. Thank for this!
Manuela, I know. The slow-simmered ideas are so satisfying, but I struggle. I'm always writing these as reminders to myself . . . patience.
I write nearly everything I share on Substack to myself! :)
Noticing seems the first step to things, but then, now what?! I am bad at checking on things where I noticed and noted, but then checking back and asking, is that idea growing? This was a great anology, Ann! I know things are unthawing a drop at a time!
Circling back--I agree--it's not easy to remember to do it. I'm very forward-focused, too, Ron. Glad you enjoyed it!
Always a good nursing trait, Ann! (fwd focused!)
Fabulous exploration! Our productivity driven society doesn’t value this cyclical process of our creativity—from germination to blooming back to decay—instead we are encouraged to always be in full blossom. No wonder burnout and stress plague western civilization. Your approach is so very sane, a nurturing of the necessary darkness.
“Ideas, I'm finding, have their own ecology. They require certain conditions to thrive: quiet moments, unstructured time, space for wandering. Like a shy woodland creature that won't build its nest too close to human paths, our deepest insights need their own protected habitat.”
Your essay also made me reflect on where consciousness/ideas actually originate. Materialism suggests it all comes from the processes of our brain, inside us. But I’m listening to a fantastic podcast right now Telepathy Tapes, and it’s blowing up our understanding of consciousness. That perhaps ideas and thoughts aren’t originating from within but are part of an infinite web that we tap into.
Thank you, Kimberly, for reading always with a mind open to asking questions and drawing interesting parallels. I love the way you think so humanly, and with such fresh curiosity. I also love a good podcast. Thank you for the recommendation!
Such a beautiful and poetic description. I have often thought of the multitude of thoughts and ideas that barrage my mind all day long, as being wandering fragments or parts of some whole waiting to be constructed (not necessarily the same whole). I’m not sure if they’re searching for a whole to call home and I’m the gatherer and logistics agent helping to place them, or if they’re scattered pieces of inspiration that my imagination corrals and tries to piece together into some more organized concept. I have this vision of rooms in my head where I label and store these parts for future use. Some of them fit together harmoniously and in quick order. Others absorb countless hours of trial and error, nurturing and modification in order to fit together. Not always in harmony. But together, none the less.
The wonder of it all is mesmerizing.
Christopher, I love how you say this: "I have this vision of rooms in my head where I label and store these parts for future use. Some of them fit together harmoniously and in quick order. Others absorb countless hours of trial and error, nurturing and modification in order to fit together."
I have a similar way of seeing it :-) I jokingly call my tiny studio my Idea Lab--but it's really true in day-to-day practice.
If I didn’t have all these rooms to organize all the incoming, my mind would feel like an asteroid field.
Same! 🚀
I love this Ann, it's exactly how ideas float into our consciousness. They can't be pinned down but if we don't give them our attention they will float on to the next receptive mind.
I find this to be true Donna. When an idea taps you on the shoulder, you have to choose or risk losing it when it moves on to the next creative mind.
A beautiful and affirming read as I wade through some rather muddy creative terrain! Thank you 🙏💙
Caroline, if anything, it comforts me to know that this is something we all work with. It's that haziness of an idea that's just beginning to take shape. If only I could learn to truly savor that time as something so lovely and so full of possibility. I guess it's a matter of curiosity & trust, really. Trust that something meaningful is "coming ashore in you" as John O'Donohue so beautifully said it. Thank you for reading 🙏💛
Thank you, Ann. May I quote you in an essay I'm working on currently (with hyperlink and credit, of course) 🙏💗
Oh sure! You’re more than welcome to use anything here. Caroline 💛
I love the image of ideas slowly growing in and through the humus layer of the forest floor. I'm trying to grow into patience, not forcing ideas. I'd like to create a slow practice, unearthing poetry that needs to flow through me, rather than reacting to every impulse. Thank you for providing this beautiful guidance and inspiration, Ann.
Conny, maybe we need both?
A colorful fast-growing flower garden *and* a slowly growing forest . . . now you have me thinking! . . . Thank you 💛💛💛
Wherever your ideas take you, Ann, your exquisite writing is such a gift to us all. I especially loved, in this piece, how many of your thoughts were intertwined with the natural world. That’s also where I often turn for wisdom and inspiration.
Elizabeth, your comment brought a such a warmth to me—how kind! I share your reverence for this world and feel very fortunate to be here with you.