One thing I came to think of as I read this is the inner journey that takes place when traveling. We might be in a breathtaking location and barely see it because of the storm inside our minds. Or we might be in an ugly location and spot something beautiful because our mind is open and ready to take in impressions.
Thank you for sharing such a personal journey and story.
Thanks for another beautiful and moving post, Sam! I can relate to the feeling that anniversaries of those we've lost can feel both meaningful and arbitrary. The metaphor of borders is just perfect, especially when the loss is new. Death and the grief lead us into strange places filled with both dark and light. I think you capture some of both. I also am now very interested in learning more about Cyprus!
There are no rules to grief, just methods to handle it. My mother used to be obsessed with death anniversaries, I don't know what faded that but I'd imagine losing track of them as they racked up helped.
"I thought about who would have jurisdiction if someone was murdered here, or what would happen if you lost your passport and the border guard who just checked it didn’t recognize you and refused to let you back in."
Lots of literary excitement authors have with liminal spaces, especially geographic. I'm re-reading Pynchon's "Bleeding Edge" and there's a scene involving a cruise ship for bipolar disordered people who try to find relief from it it by visiting places like Cyprus that are divided between two states. My favorite Mieville book The City and The City posits a place like Cyprus or really, I feel it's like Palestine and Israel, where two competing worldviews live in the exact same geography and basically the boundary line is only what the citizens of each city choose to see or "unsee" (unseeing is a big idea in that book that will teach you a lot about how your mind works). And for a political thriller approach, the movie JSA: Joint Security Area by Chan-Wook Park tells a crime story that happens in the demilitarized zone between North and South Korea.
Really good essay, Sam. I can’t imagine what losing your father feels like, but I can understand that coming to terms with it is much more complex than just letting time pass and crossing a threshold. And as always, your writing transports me every time.
Loved this, Sam! Travel takes us many places near and far with the excitement of new things to see. Nevertheless, at some point, it’s all personal. It’s moments connecting our past to our future. Thank you for sharing.
Thanks for the mention. And thanks for sharing the story of grieving your dad. Or not grieving so much as coming to some sort of terms with.
It's ironic because my mother died fifteen years ago on the day after Mother's Day and about an hour ago I finished a draft of my thoughts about that. Funny world, eh?
One thing I came to think of as I read this is the inner journey that takes place when traveling. We might be in a breathtaking location and barely see it because of the storm inside our minds. Or we might be in an ugly location and spot something beautiful because our mind is open and ready to take in impressions.
Thank you for sharing such a personal journey and story.
Thanks for another beautiful and moving post, Sam! I can relate to the feeling that anniversaries of those we've lost can feel both meaningful and arbitrary. The metaphor of borders is just perfect, especially when the loss is new. Death and the grief lead us into strange places filled with both dark and light. I think you capture some of both. I also am now very interested in learning more about Cyprus!
Such a moving post, Sam. 'Seven more minutes.' Gosh.
It's taken me a while to catch up on my Substack reading, and I'm so pleased to have had this post to look forward to. Wonderful words. 🌸
There are no rules to grief, just methods to handle it. My mother used to be obsessed with death anniversaries, I don't know what faded that but I'd imagine losing track of them as they racked up helped.
"I thought about who would have jurisdiction if someone was murdered here, or what would happen if you lost your passport and the border guard who just checked it didn’t recognize you and refused to let you back in."
Lots of literary excitement authors have with liminal spaces, especially geographic. I'm re-reading Pynchon's "Bleeding Edge" and there's a scene involving a cruise ship for bipolar disordered people who try to find relief from it it by visiting places like Cyprus that are divided between two states. My favorite Mieville book The City and The City posits a place like Cyprus or really, I feel it's like Palestine and Israel, where two competing worldviews live in the exact same geography and basically the boundary line is only what the citizens of each city choose to see or "unsee" (unseeing is a big idea in that book that will teach you a lot about how your mind works). And for a political thriller approach, the movie JSA: Joint Security Area by Chan-Wook Park tells a crime story that happens in the demilitarized zone between North and South Korea.
Really good essay, Sam. I can’t imagine what losing your father feels like, but I can understand that coming to terms with it is much more complex than just letting time pass and crossing a threshold. And as always, your writing transports me every time.
This was great Sam - thank you for sharing.
Loved this, Sam! Travel takes us many places near and far with the excitement of new things to see. Nevertheless, at some point, it’s all personal. It’s moments connecting our past to our future. Thank you for sharing.
Very moving Sam. You have made me teary thinking of those that I have lost. Thank you for sharing your beautiful photos of so much sunshine.
Thanks for the mention. And thanks for sharing the story of grieving your dad. Or not grieving so much as coming to some sort of terms with.
It's ironic because my mother died fifteen years ago on the day after Mother's Day and about an hour ago I finished a draft of my thoughts about that. Funny world, eh?