The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 8

by Beth Brower

“I wait on the shore of the mystery to see what the tide will bring.”

Question: Ought I read the papers more than I do? Answer: Likely. However: Books.

It is a potent threat, the process of caring for someone at increasing intervals.

Against the portions of life which were simply too much, even if many of them are good. I am saturated and ready to bleed out the intensity of the colour. I intend to trap serenity, if I can catch it.”

We need the tonic of wildness…

Deep solitude. Independence of soul. Beauty. Serendipity. And cake, I should add.

But one can love many places and still miss home.

There is a freedom in my body. It is so very familiar, yet long abandoned for the mandates of adulthood—womanhood, I should say.

These long days out of doors feel like coming home to a place to which I’ve always held the key, but was told it should be put away.

My childhood soul has been left too long abandoned.

One should go away long enough to know the cotton-soft contentment of coming home.