Welcome to Collecting Sunsets
Tales of love, loss, euphoria, and woe. And the redemptive power of Mother Nature.
I recently saw a documentary on Netflix about a therapist named Phil Stutz. Two things he said, in particular, stuck with me.
“The highest creative expression for a human being is to be able to create something new, right in the face of adversity. And the worse the adversity, the greater the opportunity.”
“Vulnerability is a connector to the rest of the world. You’re sending out the signal to the rest of the world that I need you because I can’t do this by myself.”
It’s been a long year, and I’ve been writing about it a lot. Some of that writing has been finding its way to Facebook. The loss of Kara, our home, and everything else back in February has changed me, what I write, and how I write, considerably. And that’s made the writing I do for work often quite difficult. I still have a huge passion for and desire to write about the outdoors, travel, and food & drink. But in a different way than I have before, on a different schedule, and for other reasons.
Right now when I have a thought or grief that needs to work its way to the surface, there’s no other form of writing that I can get accomplished until I’ve settled my hash emotionally. Still, there are some days when nothing gets done until I work that shit out. All this has put me in kind of a bind with regard to work, life, health, and happiness.
Throughout all of this, many friends of mine have reached out to express that they have received comfort or a newfound perspective in the writings/posts/essays related to grief. The thought that expressing my personal grief isn’t just helping me, but could potentially be helping or encouraging other people in any way is quite humbling and actually, fills me with hope and even a bit of a sense of purpose. But the thought of capitalizing on or benefiting personally from the cause of this grief, especially when it could be helping others, just doesn’t sit well with me.
I desperately want to continue my own healing and aid others with their grieving or processing, but also continue to make a living as a writer. And I think I might have found a potential solution with this platform. I plan on putting out weekly stories or essays that span the broad array of topics I’m passionate about. Outdoors, travel, humor, addiction, love, life, loss, grieving, healing, and on down the line, all in my voice and without editorial boundaries or constraints.
If you as the reader enjoy these writings, feel free to subscribe - for free! If you find value in them in any way and have the means and inclination, I very much invite you to become a $ 5-a-month paid subscriber. Or $50 a year. But there is no obligation for any of it. And all of my writing will be available and accessible for free at any time.
So I’m asking you, the world at large, to please subscribe. And please share this page with any and everyone else who you think might have an interest or potentially benefit from it as well. Thanks for visiting.
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