#meg fee

[littersletters]

Writing felt like wrangling storm clouds, which is to say, impossible. But so did life.

Meg Fee, Places I Stopped on the Way Home

[ohjustloveyourselfhoney]

How does one survive one’s twenties? Refuse to settle. Refuse to shrink. Fight ruthlessly and relentlessly for the life you want. Fail. Fail a lot. Go again. Figure out the important stuff--the MOST IMPORTANT STUFF. And by that I mean, the simplest stuff. Kindness. Mercy. Grace. What do those things mean and how you offer them up? Sort out a belief system that has nothing to do with dogma and everything to do with how the sun tumbles through the trees at the 5 o’clock hour in spring. Determine what is important and then claim it. The house will come. The job, too. The man or the woman or the partner or the babies, if you want them. But there is work to be done. So reach, expand, let the roots break the soil. Turn and face the discomfort and give it a name. Dismantle your prejudices and false-narratives and fight like hell for what you know in your gut is possible. Look forward, soften. Because it does gets better. It all meant something--it all still does.

Meg Fee

[littersletters]

Writing became a way to make peace with that which was flawed.

Meg Fee, Places I Stopped on the Way Home

[orclnght]

powered by One

“...I looked around at the innumerable blessings in my life and I marveled at their ability to multiply. Good things do happen. And very often the things we fear the most are not only bearable, but transformative.”

Meg Fee, Places I Stopped on the Way Home

[orclnght]

chaos and grace

“The best people I know are comfortable with failure, willing to hang out in discomfort...They understand the value of listening and are willing to apologise and admit wrong. They are engaged in the very active thing that is fighting for the life you want, and fighting for the love you think you deserve. And at the end of the day, when asked what they bring to the table, they know the answer.”

Meg Fee, Places I Stopped on the Way Home

[orclnght]

life in the woods

“...with different dreams than those with which I first arrived - smaller dreams, simpler ones: an extra set of hands; ‘This morning, with him, having coffee.’ And with the dream of Walden, a sort of hope carried within dependent on neither a person nor place, ‘success unexpected in common hours.’”

Meg Fee, Places I Stopped on the Way Home

[orclnght]

ww, song of the open road

“Occasionally I still feel a pain in my chest, high behind my left rib. It is duller than hunger, but just as important. It is joy and sadness and the sweet terror of a persistent loneliness. It is the fear that nothing will change and the faith that of course it has to. It is the ache of my own humanity. And it is the best, and truest, thing about me.”

Meg Fee, Places I Stopped on the Way Home

[orclnght]

hunger in latin is fame

“Hunger is physical, of course, but it is many other things besides: a longing to take up space, to want, to need, to fall in love, to establish boundaries, to say not good enough or not this or not now, to change directions, to start again, to fail, to forgive, to be uncomprimisingly human.”

Meg Fee, Places I Stopped on the Way Home