You speak to a longing so many of us feel. Thank you for articulating that, and for reminding us of the moments of joy that still weave through our lives.
This is so resonant. When I lived over in that neck of the woods, I feel a deep longing and loneliness, but my travels away from that rural nook of farmers has not helped much. Indeed, I look back on my time there and think it was the only true community I have ever experienced and I wonder if I will ever experience something like that again. I believe we have not figured out to how to do rural life as settlers in this land. Some communities, like the one you are in now, are weaving a new story, but the tapestry is far from whole.
Well, I love where that story ended up leading you, and it put a smile on my face, because part of the reason this old shoe shop where I sit writing stayed in business so long was that people travelled from far and wide to buy dancing shoes here. And after reading this piece yesterday, I went to the meeting of the committee of volunteers which runs Skogsvallen, the old music and dance venue on the edge of the forest here, where one of the old-timers said to me, "You know you'll have to get your dancing shoes?" I'll have to have a rummage around among the remaining shoe boxes that were here when we moved in and see if I can find a pair my size.
Beautiful, Adam. Makes me want to dance and dance and dance. Love where you transport me with your gentle words. Your world is precious. But, I imagine mine is too. I just need to imagine, too. Grateful. Thank you.
I love, love, love your list of what cultural connection is not! You are right on target with that. I would however wish that we could refrain from saying that when you “Hear people of your parents generation say…”. How about, when I hear “people” say and leave it at that. As a person in their sixties who grew up in the suburbs and moved to the country to live out my passions against the norms of my “culture”, I will tell you that while I was indeed going against my parents generations ideas of what my life should be, I got more guff and more disdain from my own age group and received more help and kindness from the “ older” generation farmers than I can ever repay. Your writing often echoes what my heart knows and hasn’t the words to express. Thank you for writing.
I am glad your experience at the dance was evocative of belonging to a larger whole, and that the caller and the band offered some context for their offerings. Some of the figures we dance, like "in your long lines go forward and back" are straight out of the primordial soup. These are figures that speak volumes for how people might come together and apart in harmony with one another, that have been danced since humans first engaged in ritual social dancing. You've now met some of my good friends who offer dances on your side of the lake. Perhaps with a little thoughtful planning we could converge on your barn in early July!
You speak to a longing so many of us feel. Thank you for articulating that, and for reminding us of the moments of joy that still weave through our lives.
This is so resonant. When I lived over in that neck of the woods, I feel a deep longing and loneliness, but my travels away from that rural nook of farmers has not helped much. Indeed, I look back on my time there and think it was the only true community I have ever experienced and I wonder if I will ever experience something like that again. I believe we have not figured out to how to do rural life as settlers in this land. Some communities, like the one you are in now, are weaving a new story, but the tapestry is far from whole.
Well, I love where that story ended up leading you, and it put a smile on my face, because part of the reason this old shoe shop where I sit writing stayed in business so long was that people travelled from far and wide to buy dancing shoes here. And after reading this piece yesterday, I went to the meeting of the committee of volunteers which runs Skogsvallen, the old music and dance venue on the edge of the forest here, where one of the old-timers said to me, "You know you'll have to get your dancing shoes?" I'll have to have a rummage around among the remaining shoe boxes that were here when we moved in and see if I can find a pair my size.
Beautiful, Adam. Makes me want to dance and dance and dance. Love where you transport me with your gentle words. Your world is precious. But, I imagine mine is too. I just need to imagine, too. Grateful. Thank you.
I love, love, love your list of what cultural connection is not! You are right on target with that. I would however wish that we could refrain from saying that when you “Hear people of your parents generation say…”. How about, when I hear “people” say and leave it at that. As a person in their sixties who grew up in the suburbs and moved to the country to live out my passions against the norms of my “culture”, I will tell you that while I was indeed going against my parents generations ideas of what my life should be, I got more guff and more disdain from my own age group and received more help and kindness from the “ older” generation farmers than I can ever repay. Your writing often echoes what my heart knows and hasn’t the words to express. Thank you for writing.
Oh yes! This fills my heart and feeds my weary spirit in so many ways. Thank you Adam!
Beautiful!
I love it that your key point (as I understand it) was implied rather than made fully explicit. Very nicely said!
I am glad your experience at the dance was evocative of belonging to a larger whole, and that the caller and the band offered some context for their offerings. Some of the figures we dance, like "in your long lines go forward and back" are straight out of the primordial soup. These are figures that speak volumes for how people might come together and apart in harmony with one another, that have been danced since humans first engaged in ritual social dancing. You've now met some of my good friends who offer dances on your side of the lake. Perhaps with a little thoughtful planning we could converge on your barn in early July!