May Sarton
December 22, 2008Today: the rain outside is so steady and fine it could almost be mistaken for snow flurries. If I focus my eyes on a spot anywhere beyond my own backyard, it looks like a faint veil of mist, something that could be mistaken for the remnants of a heavy morning fog. The colors I see when I look outside my kitchen door are deep green, terra cotta, espresso brown and silvery gray, but on my kitchen table I have a colorful glass vase of roses that are pink at the base of the petals and crimson red at their edges. The only sounds I hear are the hum of the refrigerator, my fingers on the keyboard and, if I listen closely, the delicate pitter pat of raindrops. Everything feels soft.
I am reading May Sarton’s Journal of a Solitude for the second time, and just as I did the first time I read it – as evidenced by all the underlining and margin notes – I am finding a wealth of insights that I relate to and want to explore further. I am now in the midst of a second round of underlines and asteriks, and have decided to use Journal of a Solitude for a writing exercise in which I take various excerpts and passages and respond to them as letters to May Sarton herself. Reading the book this time around has become a very active process, where I am underlining new passages and making notations alongside passages I want to write about. I find myself nodding yes as I mark the pages with blank ink, anticipating the day I devote a block of time to diving deeper into a sentence here and an idea there.
So to Ms. Sarton, I say thank you, and I hope that in some realm of consciousness or existence you hear my letters and understand the impact your work has had on my own process of learning “…how to recognize the essential”. I have spent the past many weeks feeling ever so slightly inept in my quest to know what is essential, to determine which of my endeavors, relationships and ideals are not only essential but rooted in the truth. As is usually the case, my spirits were darkened and the uncertainty I felt about so many things made me want to curl up inside my own little shell, but now that I am through the worst of it I see clearly how necessary the process was. Although I knew this in my mind the entire time, it can sometimes be a tall order to ask your heart to simply follow along and enjoy the ride, bumpy as it can be.
I look forward to writing many letters in the coming year, all of which will be inspired by Journal of a Solitude. While it is not possible for the two of us to have any kind of earthly exchange, perhaps you might be able to let me know you hear me in other ways – in a quiet dream, in the bloom of the flowers I bring home from the Farmer’s Market, in the steady, delicate rain that tells me to stay inside, to write, to dream.
beautiful, beautiful post…
to write…to dream…
those simple words fill my heart today.
Many years ago I read May Sarton’s, Journal of Solitude, and it continues to have a huge impact on the way I try to live my life. At age 66 I still a struggle at times, but whenever I’m in doubt about where I’m headed, I look to her example.
recently i found an old copy of May Sarton At Seventy at a used book store…it’s so cool to come across someone else’s underlines and margin notes…so your words made me feel all cozy-and-read-a-book. i’ve got the fireplace going…DivaDog is snuggled in next to me…and i’m going Amish in a few short minutes……Linda
Swirly girl, you are an inspiration to me. If it’s ok, I’ve added you to my blog 365 Days of Being 30. Take a look if you get a chance! Keep creating and dreaming.
Beautiful. My mum turned me onto May Sarton about 9 or 10 years ago and now I buy her books whenever I see them in second-hand bookstores. I am glad she seems to have such wide appeal.
I have never heard of this book. I am so happy I stopped over here and got the curious bug. ; )
I am looking out from the inside today, watching the snow pile up, staying warm and listening to my wonderful new cd. Wink ; ) Bliss.
Smmmmooooching you! xo
What a lovely way to experience this time of year! Happy Holidays…sending warmth and peace to you for the East Coast!
You know, I’ve always wanted to read this book, but can never find a copy. Boo! If only I were on better terms with the library.
Sending you a snail mail letter…. 
Hi,
it is the first time I read your blog. I am Italian, I visited this blog because I have found a link in Keri Smith’s blog.
This book has not been translated in my language, but I am going to order it as soon as possible.
I am spending a quiet holiday at home, in solitude, taking care of my house, trying to improve my free-lancew job, writing a lot of snail letters to send all around the world.
I find your words inspiring and I really liked the colours in your book, another book I want to order
I would like to visit America sooner or later, mostly to meet people like you.
I would like to be the receiver of one of those letters…
I need to get it off the shelf and reread it right away…thanks for reminding me of how much I loved this book.