sharing from the quietness

This week, three of my posts have been linked on social media and brought in many more readers than usual - although no new commenters so I don't know why one of those posts was shared, since I can't find the original link - perhaps people thought it was outrageous!

This increased audience is both lovely and slightly daunting. I've had posts "go viral" before, but never in such a bunch. (And when I say viral, I mean relatively so. This is still a very small weblog.) I lay awake for a long time last night wondering about the tension between wanting my writing to be read - what writer doesn't want their words to become famous or beloved? - while at the same time having a shy spirit; also, about how to remain genuine, wild-hearted, soft-voiced, in the face of a growing audience. I think my contemplations were unnecessary, since this space will never become to any degree famous. But at least this morning it means that, instead of trying to think of something Wise and Meaningful to write, I'm going to share some links instead. I hope you enjoy them.

And thank you for reading. It means so very much to me.

This couple refuse to mow their lawn. I'd do the same if it was possible, although I wouldn't want to live with rodents.

This mother cried all night for her missing baby ... I can no longer be vegetarian for health reasons, but I personally don't want to eat beef (or pork for that matter). And I never want to forget about how we treat animals : Je Suis Cecil.

After watching that video, I was glad to then read this description of Isabelle's gentle life. Such beauty and goodness here.

A wonderful open letter from a doctor about dieting.

This story of hospitality from the days of 9/11 is charming and inspiring.

How kindness saved the life of a dog. And also of a man.

Tom Hiron shares another beautiful, wise poem.

A favourite old song from the days of working night shift and wearing crocheted shawls and living quiet and reading Jane Austen for the first time.

I hope you have a lovely day.


  1. Oh, Sarah, I completely understand how you feel. When I share slightly more personal or thoughtful posts, I worry about how they will be received. Of course, I want people to read my writing... but do I, really?
    When I was younger my mother and I had many an argument about submitting my stories to children's magazines. I just didn't want to, and she was constantly encouraging me. While I appreciated her support, and still do, I just wasn't ready for people to read my work. I'm still not, truthfully, particularly when it comes to fictional tales, or personal anecdotes.
    And isn't it odd how few visitors leave comments on blogs? I sometimes wonder if my analytics are incorrect... how can so many people be visiting but not leaving a note? Of course, I read blogs for years before I began commenting, so perhaps it is possible... ;)

    1. Readiness is so important. And some of us take a longer while to feel ready, perhaps doing deep work in the quiet before wanting to show it in public. I hope one day to be able to read your stories.

  2. I read through your 'viral' posts and can understand why - you have the ability to hit the nail on the head with your topics - I love the way your mind works, but perhaps they are not easy posts to leave comments on. I try to keep my posts general - but when I do add something personal to them people seem to engage more with what I have to say (as in my latest post). But I find it hard to actually let go of my private life and put it in the public domain.

    1. Thank you. I think generally comments are fewer everywhere these days. I don't mind. I feel blessed to be able to share my words whether people leave a comment or not. I don't write personally here these days, I'm with you on that one. :-) But I know personal posts are more popular.

  3. I would feel exactly the same way. Your writing is so gentle and engaging I can understand why people would link to it. I often don't leave comments straight away, shyness probably but once I've visited a blog a few times and it feels familiar I do. I know as a blogger myself how nice it is to know who your readership is and connect with them. Lovely links as always. Thanks for sharing :)

  4. Oh some really wonderful links here, thank you. Isabelle, the boy, the dog....On leaving comments, sometimes I'm just having a quick read of posts in between other things, sometimes I don't have the spare energy to comment, or I think other people have already said it. I do like the quietly reading tick box on here. Wish there was something similar on wordpress.

  5. In a birthing class, we were asked what animals we connected with good, natural mothering, and the first animal that came to mind was Cow. Thank you for the affirmation... maybe now I will make a cow amulet for labor :D

  6. thank you for the links...i especially enjoyed the tom hiron poem. i do so love his voice.

    writing in your blog should be whatever you want it to be. i and many others clearly find it charming, enlightening,'s true, with a larger audience can come a sense of scrutiny; a small audience can seem like a tribe of kindred spirits or even friends, but a wider group will inevitably be more heterogenous, more complicated. but i shouldn't worry as you are so evidently Doing Something Right! so often i find your posts echoing a topic i've been thinking of lately, and i always enjoy your views. i think it comes down to resonance...when we write, it's because we wish to share our thoughts in some way. when we follow as readers and enter into conversation with a writer, it feels---among other reasons, of course---like "finding our tribe". or like coming home...our own social circles may be low on like minds, and the interwebs are a howling wilderness of things, so that finding a voice out there whose words ring bells in our hearts is a joy and a refuge.

    so, thank you.

  7. Once upon a time, a Very Popular blogger shared a link to my blog and my visitor stats exploded and I had heart palpitations and couldn't sleep!! The sheer volumn of visitors was staggering, overwhelming. I felt grateful when it quieted down again :-)

  8. Thank you everyone for your comments. I wish I had time to answer each one personally this morning - please know I answered it in my heart when I read it! And treasured each one. <3