I’m a Stubborn Soul Alright
It could be a coincidence. But it felt good. I felt loved. I felt a wisp of magic, whimsy, something sweet and strange and beautiful.
“details in the fabric, a stubborn soul trying to make gumdrops of lemon oh so bitter and so sweet”
Colored pencil on paper, graphite and embroidery thread on fabric, pins on panel. 15 x 12 inches. 2025.
Dearest Doodle Soupsters,
Lately, I’ve been going for runs at sunset. Sometimes, I start with a podcast, then maybe I turn to some music, and finally, I take the earbuds out, hold them in my hands as I walk the rest of the way home.
I’ve been blocking something out. I’ve been holding something in. And then, I unplug my ears and I listen. I realize I’ve been transfixed on one spot, one little nook, one little cranny, and I stop, look around. Take in the bigger picture.
I just came back from a sunset run. I started with a podcast, then turned to music, then I took out the earbuds, held them in my hands, listened.
As I ambled those final steps toward home, these words welled up, bubbling at the surface. Through the door, a quick pat of my kitty’s head, and then straight here, to this, writing this.
There’s something I’ve written a few times before — What is the point? The point is the point.
I’ve been searching for an answer. The funny thing is the answers are all around me. There isn’t one answer. But sometimes, many answers feel like none.
I’ve been trying to believe in “good.” I’ve been feeling like I’ve been failing …
There should be a name for that scent. There probably is. Maybe at some candle shop, but does the candle really smell like this? Nothing else could smell like this. It smells like fall, like wood, brisk? I’m struggling to describe it. But oof, it smells good.
Sunset. I mean I could ramble on at you about the scientific explanation for what a sunset looks like. But that wouldn’t tell us why. Only how. Another how — how could I see the sunset and not believe in good? A sunset is good.
There didn’t have to be sunsets. The world could have been some other way. But there are. There are sunsets.
The other day, I asked for a sign and a tuxedo cat said hello to me on the way back from my run. And no, the cat didn’t speak. Well, not English. The cat spoke cat. You know, meow. Sniff sniff. The cat rubbed its head against my hand, swished its body against my leg.
Now, was the cat a sign? Of anything? Maybe. Maybe not. I mean, cats wander around. It could be a coincidence. But it felt good. I felt noticed. I felt loved. I felt a wisp of magic, whimsy, something sweet and strange and beautiful.
And isn’t that the point too? Signs are everywhere. But they require us to look, to notice, to love them. To feel something. To let ourselves feel something.
And here we go … this is the other point. I said it a moment ago, that I’ve been blocking something out, holding something in …
I thought some younger part of me was scared, some piece of me stuck in the past. But no, it’s me now. I’m scared.
I felt this buzzing, jolting around, but now, I feel it settling. Well, what is the “this,” the “it”?
I think I’ve been trying to deny some of my memories, trying to fumble around in the dark for something to hold onto, something that could prove that … what?
Accepting that my memories are real, the abuse was real, who was responsible, etc. … it means letting go of the hope that someday, my family is just going to make a 180 and get it all of the sudden, that my mom will just wake up one day and believe me, that I’ll get some admission of guilt, that my abusers will admit what they did, that there will be some amazing resolution, what else? I don’t know …
This phrase lingers in my brain, something left unsaid …
something left unsaid
must be me
must be me
must be me who left something out
who didn’t try hard enough
must be my fault
must be my fault
why can’t it just be my fault?
because then, I wouldn’t feel powerless
then, there would be something I could do
there is something I can do
let them go
let yourself go
be with the family you chose
the family who believes you
the family who loves you
the family who knows you
i’ve let them go many times over, lost count
but how do i
how do i
let myself go
be here
be here now
I think I’ve scared to step into the future because of how much it brings up this grief, this loss, the people who aren’t in my life anymore, for good reason, but that doesn't take away the longing for what I hoped would be instead … I forget that there’s no need to step into the future. All I need to do is feel my feel on the ground. Be here now. The future is just now, a moment or two or more later. So if I can accept what’s here right now, if I can feel what I feel right now, if I can act right now, or rest right now, this is how to deal with the future. One moment, one step at a time.
One moment, one step at a time. I can do this. I can feel the urge to look around the corner, to rush ahead, to speed read to get to the end of my book, just to see how it turns out, just to have an answer, seeking certainty …
but all that, what is it other than fear?
I can feel afraid and choose to act on some other feeling, some other thought I also have. I am not powerless. I am not only afraid. I am brave. I am here. I am love. I am noticing. I am learning. I am listening. I am looking. I am magic. I am connected to something good.
I choose to believe that all is not lost. That there is more to find. More life to live. Similarly, the world is not so lost that it cannot be redeemed.
I’ve been feeling dispirited. I’ve been trying my best to believe in my spirit, to find that voice inside of me, to try to listen. I’ve been feeling too overwhelmed to listen and more overwhelmed from not listening. I’ve been feeling conflicted and confused.
Still, I won’t give up. Not ever. I’m too stubborn for that. A kinder word is tenacious. I’ll take either. Both.
There’s nothing wrong with the above. I can let this breathe. I can let this out. I can unblock. Unstick what’s stuck. Untangle. Sweep the cobwebs out from the neglected corners. Dissolve the gookety gook, gockety gock. Why not? What’s so bad about that?
What’s the point? Well, the point is the point. And I say, that’s enough! That’s enough! I don’t need another reason. It’s okay. I can drop the armor. It’s been feeling so heavy. It might not be visible, but I feel it. I carry it. It’s okay to let go. To allow myself to walk a little freer, live a little lighter. And what’s funny is when I do that, I also let myself feel the depths, the sadness, the pain, but it’s not stuck. It’s moving. It feels heavy in a different way. I don’t feel weighed down. Not sluggish. More like something heavy is moving through me. In the process of release. And I’m good with that. I let it move. I let it move. As fast or as slow as it takes. I’m moving into acceptance. I’m letting the grief be what it is and when I do, it no longer feels like it sucks up all the air inside of me, all the air in the room. There’s an intensity but instead of frantically trying to water it down, I just let it be. I cease all the pushing against, all the damming up … and yes, there’s an urge to suppress the feeling, but instead, I just feel. I let myself be here now as I am. And whew. What a relief that is.
At the top of this edition, I included one of the artworks I made this year in my Whispers Among the Trees series. It’s called, “details in the fabric, a stubborn soul trying to make gumdrops of lemon oh so bitter and so sweet.”
I wrote these words, embedding them in the artwork …
tell me what do you see?
a stubborn soul trying
to make gumdrops
of lemon oh so
bitter and so sweet
what do i know
i mean what could i know
anyway just got
this puny human
brain grappling with
questions beyond my
understanding i grasp
at the straws anyway
anyway i don’t know
where i’m going but
i’ll get there anyway
hmmm a leap of
faith? a
honeydew
melon
sprinkled
with
salt
and
olive
oil …
what gold?
is
the
soul path
destiny
alchemy
portals, toward?
whispers of something true,
something beautiful
x marks the spot
Enough, a stubborn soul trying to make gumdrops of lemon oh so bitter and so sweet,
Nicole Sylvia Javorsky