I think of the trees and how simply they let go, let fall the riches of a season, how without grief (it seems) they can let go and go deep into their roots for renewal and sleep…Keep busy with survival. Imitate the trees. Learn to lose in order to recover, and remember that nothing stays the same for long, not even pain, psychic pain. Sit it out. Let it all pass. Let it go.
May Sarton, Journal of a Solitude
CIMPLE - A Curious Introvert's Musings & Photos about Life and Enjoyment 
Exquisite! I own “Journal of a Solitude” and was thinking this would be an appropriate time to reread it.
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🙂Thank you!🙂 I read part of this quote in a Joan Anderson book and quickly found myself ordering volume one of her journals and am currently reading Journal of a Solitude. Also discovered when trying to learn more about her that she lived in Maine in her later years.🙂
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Yes, she did. In southern Maine on the coast. Can’t remember which town.
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I keep finding interesting articles about her and she lived in a cottage in York.🙂
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Yes, that’s right. York. Close to New Hampshire. I think Sarton had a very challenging personality, but she was enormously creative and a good writer. Many artists seem to have challenging personalities.
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🙂
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Wonderful!
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🙂Thank you!🙂
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😊🌍
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