Hello Karen, What a tender and beautifully observant letter.
This letter is such a quiet act of alchemy—thank you for sharing it. The way you soften into noticing, even after being met with silence, holds so much reverence. There’s something deeply moving about your choice to keep greeting him, not as a performance but as a practice. A practice of presence.
What struck me most was the slow progression—noticing the imperceptible nod, the way acknowledgment arrived not with fanfare but with the subtlest shift. That’s the work, isn’t it? The soul’s work. The not-turning-away work. The sitting-with-the-unknown-of-another work.
Your wondering—about his boyhood, his marriage, his losses—the letters that transmute the everyday into something sacred. You reminded me that we never really know the life sitting next to us on the bench, but our attention can still be a kind of love.
Wow Karen, I love this practice that you have taken up. I will be reading this book next. it’s been recommended by many different people. Always good to connect with you. I hope you get to read my post if you haven’t yet.
Prajna.. thank you for this perceptive and beautiful reply. You've delineated what I hadn't even realized about my experience, and about the little essay that came from it. I value your insight and kind words so much! Good news-- just yesterday, the Dour Man gave me an actual nod as opposed to a slight chin dip. 😊
Thank you dear Ellen! I'm glad you're reading my little blog posts... writing has taken center stage, and I'm working on a memoir. It's all consuming! xoxox
Absolutely love your story about the man sitting on the bench! I walk the same route every day with my little Wall-e and it's such a great meditation. You're a great writer AND painter Karen!
I hope you will keep us up to date on your relationship with the parkside açoriano, whether he reveals more of himself or not. If not...perhaps you can weave an imagining of what his life must have been like before he found that bench in that park...
This is such a hopeful post, J - and so honest. We never really know what's going on with others but being kind is never going to be wrong in my opinion. Love your resilience with the prompts too xo
I love this idea of wonderment--so many things to think about with the man on the bench. I bet your smile and/or greeting is a boost for him even though his acknowledgment is slow to progress :)
Hello Karen, What a tender and beautifully observant letter.
This letter is such a quiet act of alchemy—thank you for sharing it. The way you soften into noticing, even after being met with silence, holds so much reverence. There’s something deeply moving about your choice to keep greeting him, not as a performance but as a practice. A practice of presence.
What struck me most was the slow progression—noticing the imperceptible nod, the way acknowledgment arrived not with fanfare but with the subtlest shift. That’s the work, isn’t it? The soul’s work. The not-turning-away work. The sitting-with-the-unknown-of-another work.
Your wondering—about his boyhood, his marriage, his losses—the letters that transmute the everyday into something sacred. You reminded me that we never really know the life sitting next to us on the bench, but our attention can still be a kind of love.
Inspired!
Wow Karen, I love this practice that you have taken up. I will be reading this book next. it’s been recommended by many different people. Always good to connect with you. I hope you get to read my post if you haven’t yet.
Here’s a nod to you
Prajna.. thank you for this perceptive and beautiful reply. You've delineated what I hadn't even realized about my experience, and about the little essay that came from it. I value your insight and kind words so much! Good news-- just yesterday, the Dour Man gave me an actual nod as opposed to a slight chin dip. 😊
love this! Karen, now you've inspired me to do this.
...FYI- here's my first post when I started the project.. https://continuingwonderment.substack.com/p/alchemy
Many thanks Debbie... I'll be posting more about my process with the book! Keep an eye out.
Thanks for sharing --sounds like a great project. And for the progress of hello to the man on the bench.
I just read your story about the man on the bench, and it put a smile on my face. Your stories are so engaging. Miss chatting with you.
Thank you dear Ellen! I'm glad you're reading my little blog posts... writing has taken center stage, and I'm working on a memoir. It's all consuming! xoxox
Absolutely love your story about the man sitting on the bench! I walk the same route every day with my little Wall-e and it's such a great meditation. You're a great writer AND painter Karen!
Many thanks Lori...So nice to be acknowledged -- and I can see the same about you!!
I hope you will keep us up to date on your relationship with the parkside açoriano, whether he reveals more of himself or not. If not...perhaps you can weave an imagining of what his life must have been like before he found that bench in that park...
This is such a hopeful post, J - and so honest. We never really know what's going on with others but being kind is never going to be wrong in my opinion. Love your resilience with the prompts too xo
I love this idea of wonderment--so many things to think about with the man on the bench. I bet your smile and/or greeting is a boost for him even though his acknowledgment is slow to progress :)
Very sweet picture. And kindness- saying hello- we need that and I appreciate your doing it!
Oh, I love this. I am glad he is beginning to acknowledge you.