Another stunning piece of writing, Tonya. I marvel at your depth of understanding about places and people. The subtlety of words that reveal the core. I do hope someday, southern Utah will mean something quite personal of your own. A long way off perhaps. What roads has Paul introduced you to? And would those roads become yours without his mark on them?
That's a great question, Sue--it's one Paul and I were pondering on this trip. Because he and I had each found so many of the same places, separately, before we met, there aren't many roads that feel entirely like his or like mine. The rare moments when he introduces me to something, or I introduce him, feel like true gifts. I guess that's what happens when both people share the driver's seat.
That's a good way to do it. Share the driving, because it's a different experience as a driver and a passenger. Each one notices different things along the highway.
beautiful writing Tonya. "I can’t reach myself either." - I know exactly what you are saying, and how hard it is to explain the feeling, but you express it perfectly.
Beautiful. Even if personal sagas never quite end, the road to Hanksville does. In this moment, while looking out at the bluffs, I light sage for us all. The possibility of finding stillness in breath. 🙏🏽🙏🏽
I was thinking of you at roughly the time of this home purge & wondering how you were holding up. Thank you for providing such a gorgeously-written & profound answer. It made my heart ache but the note of departure & letting go at the end was glorious. You are a survivor & thriver, Tonya...your ex's bitterness & peevishness was his sad legacy. Your spirit & hard work will totally deliver you from it. Kudos to you & Paul for this courageous & noble errand. We can't make the past un-happen, but you have forged a beautiful path away from it & towards the life you enjoy from this point forward. ✌🏼❤️
Just fabulous writing, thanks! And far too many great metaphors to re-quote, although I love the ones selected by others as below. You really have a knack for bringing home the emotion that are embedded in your soul, and all of us can be grateful for that. Last summer some friends and I "shared" a dangerous and emotion-filled drama on the lowly but angry San Juan River -- we were caught in that 100 year (whatever, I just hate that common description) storm/flood which moved the river from 800 CFS or so to over 25,000 CFS in mere moments. We had just pulled over to camp and would have likely died if this event had happened at night. But we all did survive, albeit sacrificing two of our tied boats to a receptive Lake Powell downriver. I wrote about it, and frankly am not all too happy with the result -- the piece does not capture the raw emotion you have been able to muster in your writings about your ex-husband. Apparently my persona does exhibit some emotion, however; at my last yearly doc appointment he specifically mentioned PTSD in his notes. And I still think the landscape is beautiful, but it took some nightmares and time to move through this experience.
It's amazing how quickly that landscape can turn deadly. I'm so glad you got through it. And being able to write about something that traumatic can take time--sometimes, a lot of time. Often the emotions are too immediate, and that gets in the way of writing. There's a great saying writers throw around: "Write from the scar, not from the wound." If you want to return to what you wrote, just be patient, and give it some time to move from your nervous system into your brain. It'll help.
Wow...the best writing of "place," space, time, and vacuuming, ever. You made it and with Paul's spirit and help beside you. I am very happy you got away, and even more happy to have you and Juke in our lives. Free at last. Just the best. Your journey. I am so moved. Thank you.
Tonya, I’d known your ex-husband for over 50 years, traveled with him for weeks at a time. Then, a few years ago, in a single conversation, our relationship ended. For a long time I struggled with wondering what part I’d had in the rupture. Your writing has freed me from guilt about the breakup. Thank you.
I'm so glad to hear that, Michael. You never needed to feel guilty for that break, and it's to your credit that you tried more than once to mend it. I hope you're doing well these days.
I always love what you write, and I always somehow find myself in it. That feeling of not being able to look past a heart-aching event in the near future, of living life in chunks marked by milestones you just have to survive. And the way you face it each time, with incredible inner strength, inspires me. It reminds me how calm a person can be while staring straight into a painful past without breaking eye contact. That’s how your writing feels, soaked in unresisting strength and peace.
I also have to say I'm about to find myself starting a life in town he grew up in. It’s happened before and I hated when he told me stories about places because I had this deep need to make them my own. And I never realized that until I heard you say it.
It's so great to hear that something resonated like that. I'm happy I was able to provide that little echo of your inner voice. I wish you strength and happiness in your new life. I have faith you can make that place your own, no matter what.
Another stunning piece of writing, Tonya. I marvel at your depth of understanding about places and people. The subtlety of words that reveal the core. I do hope someday, southern Utah will mean something quite personal of your own. A long way off perhaps. What roads has Paul introduced you to? And would those roads become yours without his mark on them?
That's a great question, Sue--it's one Paul and I were pondering on this trip. Because he and I had each found so many of the same places, separately, before we met, there aren't many roads that feel entirely like his or like mine. The rare moments when he introduces me to something, or I introduce him, feel like true gifts. I guess that's what happens when both people share the driver's seat.
That's a good way to do it. Share the driving, because it's a different experience as a driver and a passenger. Each one notices different things along the highway.
beautiful writing Tonya. "I can’t reach myself either." - I know exactly what you are saying, and how hard it is to explain the feeling, but you express it perfectly.
I'm so glad you can relate, Tabby. It's great to know it isn't just me.
definitely not just you!
A great piece, Tonya.
Beautiful. Even if personal sagas never quite end, the road to Hanksville does. In this moment, while looking out at the bluffs, I light sage for us all. The possibility of finding stillness in breath. 🙏🏽🙏🏽
What a wonderful image you draw there. I really appreciate it. Thanks so much, Andy
This was a remarkable coda to your stories about this time. May you travel light in your new life.
--John from Cortez
What a lovely blessing. I appreciate it. Thank you so much, John.
I was thinking of you at roughly the time of this home purge & wondering how you were holding up. Thank you for providing such a gorgeously-written & profound answer. It made my heart ache but the note of departure & letting go at the end was glorious. You are a survivor & thriver, Tonya...your ex's bitterness & peevishness was his sad legacy. Your spirit & hard work will totally deliver you from it. Kudos to you & Paul for this courageous & noble errand. We can't make the past un-happen, but you have forged a beautiful path away from it & towards the life you enjoy from this point forward. ✌🏼❤️
Thanks so much Ellen for this wonderful, beautifully expressed comment! Grateful to have you in my life.
❤️❤️!
Just fabulous writing, thanks! And far too many great metaphors to re-quote, although I love the ones selected by others as below. You really have a knack for bringing home the emotion that are embedded in your soul, and all of us can be grateful for that. Last summer some friends and I "shared" a dangerous and emotion-filled drama on the lowly but angry San Juan River -- we were caught in that 100 year (whatever, I just hate that common description) storm/flood which moved the river from 800 CFS or so to over 25,000 CFS in mere moments. We had just pulled over to camp and would have likely died if this event had happened at night. But we all did survive, albeit sacrificing two of our tied boats to a receptive Lake Powell downriver. I wrote about it, and frankly am not all too happy with the result -- the piece does not capture the raw emotion you have been able to muster in your writings about your ex-husband. Apparently my persona does exhibit some emotion, however; at my last yearly doc appointment he specifically mentioned PTSD in his notes. And I still think the landscape is beautiful, but it took some nightmares and time to move through this experience.
It's amazing how quickly that landscape can turn deadly. I'm so glad you got through it. And being able to write about something that traumatic can take time--sometimes, a lot of time. Often the emotions are too immediate, and that gets in the way of writing. There's a great saying writers throw around: "Write from the scar, not from the wound." If you want to return to what you wrote, just be patient, and give it some time to move from your nervous system into your brain. It'll help.
Wow...the best writing of "place," space, time, and vacuuming, ever. You made it and with Paul's spirit and help beside you. I am very happy you got away, and even more happy to have you and Juke in our lives. Free at last. Just the best. Your journey. I am so moved. Thank you.
I'm so happy it spoke to you, Connie! Thank you so much for the kind words and thoughtful reading. I appreciate it more than I can express.
"That great desert highway was only ever just a road. A trail on the rock.".........beautiful, thank you for sharing this story Tonya.
Thank you, Will. I'm so glad it spoke to you.
Tonya, I’d known your ex-husband for over 50 years, traveled with him for weeks at a time. Then, a few years ago, in a single conversation, our relationship ended. For a long time I struggled with wondering what part I’d had in the rupture. Your writing has freed me from guilt about the breakup. Thank you.
I'm so glad to hear that, Michael. You never needed to feel guilty for that break, and it's to your credit that you tried more than once to mend it. I hope you're doing well these days.
Woooooow, Tonya, amazing story telling, I was mesmerized from start to finish. We neeeed to get a coffee and talk one of these days. Well done!
I would love that! Let's try to make it happen soon. And thanks so much for the kind words.
I always love what you write, and I always somehow find myself in it. That feeling of not being able to look past a heart-aching event in the near future, of living life in chunks marked by milestones you just have to survive. And the way you face it each time, with incredible inner strength, inspires me. It reminds me how calm a person can be while staring straight into a painful past without breaking eye contact. That’s how your writing feels, soaked in unresisting strength and peace.
I also have to say I'm about to find myself starting a life in town he grew up in. It’s happened before and I hated when he told me stories about places because I had this deep need to make them my own. And I never realized that until I heard you say it.
It's so great to hear that something resonated like that. I'm happy I was able to provide that little echo of your inner voice. I wish you strength and happiness in your new life. I have faith you can make that place your own, no matter what.
Peace to you Tonya, and happy travels with Paul.
Thanks so much, Jeff. And happy travels to you too!
Thanks so much, Oscar