I am so here for this ongoing story. And the deep love and presence she brought to creating that fairy welcome feels so much like a practice of reverence.
Oh Kendall! How lucky your dragon child is to have you as a mother.
You are dealing with this in such a wise and beautiful way - but I can imagine how very difficult it must be to have your child tell you that she is longing for her dragon mother.
Your daughter is clearly a child of magic, aware of the presence of other worlds, and these extraordinarily beautiful mushrooms from fae-born and insanely talented @EmilyCharlottePowell, providing that precious access through the fairy door were such an absolutely perfect and truly lovely gift.
I don’t think that it was coincidence that the hummingbird paused outside your window in its hovering, nor that your daughter arrived into this world as though she were still tucked into her egg.
And I don’t think that anything done in the spirit of such love, could ever be viewed as a moral failing.
Oh my goodness, thank you Kay. Thank you for seeing us both. I will take it on your good word that I have not morally failed! Truly though, I do believe the same thing— that when we make magic from a place of love, there is nothing untoward about it. I stumble often as a mom, don’t get me wrong, I am so far from perfect, but sometimes something shimmering arises and reminds me that in the trying, I am doing it right. That all we need to do is keep trying.
Now you’ve really done it Kendall. I decided to listen to this while driving today (not usually my preference but I had a long road ahead of me) but three-quarters of the way through I needed so badly to pull off the highway and sob. Picturing your sweet dragon girl still curled inside her egg, three generations of women (and one dragon goddess from beyond) breathing life into those shimmering wings and encouraging her to find her roar. If I had had your phone number, I would’ve called you right in that moment, to LIVE broadcast to you the impact of your story, your writing, how it was rolling through me in waves of gratitude and wonder and utmost admiration.
Oh, I thought to record this one and didn’t get to it, but you’ve inspired me to do more of that. And you had to pull over and sob! I wrote that bit and a wave of it hit me as well, and it feels a bit magical that those moments as writers can carry through the words to other people. Thank you, thank you for the gift of knowing this, and for broadcasting your love with such candor and effusiveness. I needed that today as I sit to write. xoxo
... ps. this poem was in my inbox this morning by Rosemerry Trommer and it made me think of your beautiful line, "Maybe all belief needs is a willing portal on this earthly plane"
Oh my goodness Kendall, this is insanely wonderful in every possible way. I just can’t even…… I read it yesterday so fast, I couldn’t slow myself, in such a rush was I to fill my soul up with its delicious magic. I have returned and reread, and still I have been wondering how I could possibly write something that could convey the depth of my joy. I cannot begin to share how much it means to be a tiny part of this utterly beautiful story. There is nothing more in the world that I could wish for my art, than for these little creations to find their way into stories as magical as this. I am overwhelmed. And I stand wholeheartedly by my comment on the first of this story - that there could not be a more perfect human mama to send such a precious dragon-child to grow up with. That it turns out she was born inside an invisible egg and taught to roar by her human grandmother only makes it more so. I do not think that showing our children that magic and enchantment are real could be anything but right.
I love imagining you gobbling this up and then going back to savor it. I love that it brought you the joy that you so deserve. Everything you make and write just crackles with magic, Emily, and I’m so happy to have written you into this story. Though truly, I do not feel it was me that was doing it. You were already in the story, I just opened the book to the right page and read it aloud. So much love to you, my friend.
I have tears filling my eyes and I am laughing with wonder and delight at the same time, Kendall. What a gorgeous, gorgeous gift you and your daughter are giving each other. We all need to believe in magic and wonder and be held as who we are in whatever form that is at whatever time. Will you please, please write The Dragon Girl into a book? Hugs and blessings to you both from me.
I will admit that the thought has occurred to me that this would be a delightful book to write! She just needs to get in line and be patient, because the other ones are pushing to the front of the line after this memoir is complete and quite demanding! No complaints here, though. I have my own portal that I am stepping through, and I wouldn’t change a thing. Thank you for your tears and your cheerleading, my friend!
I completely understand about that book idea needing to wait in line! I have another memoir nagging at me, but right now I'm deep in marketing Earthbound, A Year of Mindful Connection in Nature, my little earth-spirituality devotional due out in October. Everything else has to wait. May the writing go well, and you and your Dragon-Girl flourish in all ways.
Kendall, by the end, tears were streaming down my cheeks.
I kept thinking of Gerald Hüther, one of Germany‘s leading neurobiologists, one who was present when the paradigm of the determined brain was washed down the drain because an old cell grew new sequels which couldn’t be. I thought about his idea of how children unfold their whole potential build many new sequels in their brains. This is what it looks like in real life: a mother who welcomes a child’s inner world with wonder, presence, tenderness, and trust. A mother who gives imagination room to breathe and grow roots.
You tend to her magic with such care. You give it ritual, language, beauty, and belonging. And beneath all of it, I read love in its deepest form: I believe you. I am here. Your world matters.
Ah, that choked me up. That’s it: “I believe you. I am here. Your world matters.” Thank you for telling me about Gerald Hunter— how fascinating! I love the connections your mind and heart make, my friend. You are a soul like no other.
I’ve read both stories and am in awe at the bravery and courage it must have taken to embrace this very special girls story, so that she feels safe to be here right now exactly as she is meant to be. How many of us had similar stories and experiences that have stayed locked away until as adults we’ve had to unpick all the barriers and protection until we can run free. Some thing stirred in my heart and gave me so much hope that we are going to let the magic within us flow for the very beginning. My little fairy garden is only just beginning, but I know it will grow as does the confidence to share with one and that I live in both worlds. Truly magical. xx
To live in both worlds is such a gift— when we alchemize the fact that all of our parts belong in the same room, there is so much healing. I love that you have a fairy garden! May it unlock all the enchantment inside of you.
I want to tell you, Kendall, that all these dragon games wilk continue forever. I want to tell you that mother-daughters are always this generous with each other. I want to tell you that pretend and play will dominate your lives for a long time more, but it won't.
But what might happen is the play might stay. The silliness and sense of engagement might.
My youngest daughter just moved out in May. We had a few final silly adventures as we prepared. This one here was a pretty good one.
But oh, how I also remember the fae and the dragons.
Thank you for this reminder, Liz. The imagination and the play and the silliness are amazing, and if I’m being totally honest, sometimes exhausting. Sometimes I just want to sink into a book and rest or make dinner without also pretending to be “Chef Luigi” who talks with a silly accent and feeds all the stray animals in town. And then I am reminded that this is not forever, and I know I will miss it when she has moved on from these games. As with everything, both things are true. The exhaustion and the wonder. Holding you, my friend, after the launching of your youngest. What a massive transition. I ‘ll carve some time out to read your post later. Thank you for sharing and for being here!
I am so here for this ongoing story. And the deep love and presence she brought to creating that fairy welcome feels so much like a practice of reverence.
I agree! I love watching kids practice their whimsical reverence. And thank you!
Oh Kendall! How lucky your dragon child is to have you as a mother.
You are dealing with this in such a wise and beautiful way - but I can imagine how very difficult it must be to have your child tell you that she is longing for her dragon mother.
Your daughter is clearly a child of magic, aware of the presence of other worlds, and these extraordinarily beautiful mushrooms from fae-born and insanely talented @EmilyCharlottePowell, providing that precious access through the fairy door were such an absolutely perfect and truly lovely gift.
I don’t think that it was coincidence that the hummingbird paused outside your window in its hovering, nor that your daughter arrived into this world as though she were still tucked into her egg.
And I don’t think that anything done in the spirit of such love, could ever be viewed as a moral failing.
Oh my goodness, thank you Kay. Thank you for seeing us both. I will take it on your good word that I have not morally failed! Truly though, I do believe the same thing— that when we make magic from a place of love, there is nothing untoward about it. I stumble often as a mom, don’t get me wrong, I am so far from perfect, but sometimes something shimmering arises and reminds me that in the trying, I am doing it right. That all we need to do is keep trying.
The shimmering tells the truth.
🤍
That’s lovely, Kay, thank you. xoxo
xoxo
Now you’ve really done it Kendall. I decided to listen to this while driving today (not usually my preference but I had a long road ahead of me) but three-quarters of the way through I needed so badly to pull off the highway and sob. Picturing your sweet dragon girl still curled inside her egg, three generations of women (and one dragon goddess from beyond) breathing life into those shimmering wings and encouraging her to find her roar. If I had had your phone number, I would’ve called you right in that moment, to LIVE broadcast to you the impact of your story, your writing, how it was rolling through me in waves of gratitude and wonder and utmost admiration.
Oh, I thought to record this one and didn’t get to it, but you’ve inspired me to do more of that. And you had to pull over and sob! I wrote that bit and a wave of it hit me as well, and it feels a bit magical that those moments as writers can carry through the words to other people. Thank you, thank you for the gift of knowing this, and for broadcasting your love with such candor and effusiveness. I needed that today as I sit to write. xoxo
... ps. this poem was in my inbox this morning by Rosemerry Trommer and it made me think of your beautiful line, "Maybe all belief needs is a willing portal on this earthly plane"
I carry it with me everywhere,
this small wooden elephant
that sat for years on the writing desk
of my friend, a late-night writer,
a peach jam maker, lover of poets.
I have seen the way it makes shy men
smile when they hold it in their palms.
I have heard the voices of women break open
as they share the ache beneath their skin
when the elephant sits on the table
in front of them. I am not saying
the elephant is magic, but trust me,
the elephant is magic. Not the wood itself,
but the belief it carries—that all of us
have a life worthy of our wonder,
all of us have stories for sharing.
When the elephant enters a circle,
each time I rediscover how vast the world
becomes when we listen to each other.
—Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
THIS POEM!!!! I love it so much, I’m writing into a notebook right now. Thank you so much for sharing it with me today. What a word hug.
❤️🤗
This is beautiful.
Oh my goodness Kendall, this is insanely wonderful in every possible way. I just can’t even…… I read it yesterday so fast, I couldn’t slow myself, in such a rush was I to fill my soul up with its delicious magic. I have returned and reread, and still I have been wondering how I could possibly write something that could convey the depth of my joy. I cannot begin to share how much it means to be a tiny part of this utterly beautiful story. There is nothing more in the world that I could wish for my art, than for these little creations to find their way into stories as magical as this. I am overwhelmed. And I stand wholeheartedly by my comment on the first of this story - that there could not be a more perfect human mama to send such a precious dragon-child to grow up with. That it turns out she was born inside an invisible egg and taught to roar by her human grandmother only makes it more so. I do not think that showing our children that magic and enchantment are real could be anything but right.
I love imagining you gobbling this up and then going back to savor it. I love that it brought you the joy that you so deserve. Everything you make and write just crackles with magic, Emily, and I’m so happy to have written you into this story. Though truly, I do not feel it was me that was doing it. You were already in the story, I just opened the book to the right page and read it aloud. So much love to you, my friend.
I have tears filling my eyes and I am laughing with wonder and delight at the same time, Kendall. What a gorgeous, gorgeous gift you and your daughter are giving each other. We all need to believe in magic and wonder and be held as who we are in whatever form that is at whatever time. Will you please, please write The Dragon Girl into a book? Hugs and blessings to you both from me.
I will admit that the thought has occurred to me that this would be a delightful book to write! She just needs to get in line and be patient, because the other ones are pushing to the front of the line after this memoir is complete and quite demanding! No complaints here, though. I have my own portal that I am stepping through, and I wouldn’t change a thing. Thank you for your tears and your cheerleading, my friend!
I completely understand about that book idea needing to wait in line! I have another memoir nagging at me, but right now I'm deep in marketing Earthbound, A Year of Mindful Connection in Nature, my little earth-spirituality devotional due out in October. Everything else has to wait. May the writing go well, and you and your Dragon-Girl flourish in all ways.
And may yours go well also! This is the best “problem” to have as a creative soul, isn’t it?
Absolutely! :)
Kendall, by the end, tears were streaming down my cheeks.
I kept thinking of Gerald Hüther, one of Germany‘s leading neurobiologists, one who was present when the paradigm of the determined brain was washed down the drain because an old cell grew new sequels which couldn’t be. I thought about his idea of how children unfold their whole potential build many new sequels in their brains. This is what it looks like in real life: a mother who welcomes a child’s inner world with wonder, presence, tenderness, and trust. A mother who gives imagination room to breathe and grow roots.
You tend to her magic with such care. You give it ritual, language, beauty, and belonging. And beneath all of it, I read love in its deepest form: I believe you. I am here. Your world matters.
Your daughter is a very lucky dragon child.
Ah, that choked me up. That’s it: “I believe you. I am here. Your world matters.” Thank you for telling me about Gerald Hunter— how fascinating! I love the connections your mind and heart make, my friend. You are a soul like no other.
Such a beautiful love, enough to weave magic. 💕
Thanks, Leah. We need a little whimsy in the world right now, don't we?
Oh, we do indeed.
Presence and love are really the same thing. Gorgeous. From another who grew up among Believers and had to find my way back into my heart.
I see you, Beth. Hand to heart. Thank you so much.
I’ve read both stories and am in awe at the bravery and courage it must have taken to embrace this very special girls story, so that she feels safe to be here right now exactly as she is meant to be. How many of us had similar stories and experiences that have stayed locked away until as adults we’ve had to unpick all the barriers and protection until we can run free. Some thing stirred in my heart and gave me so much hope that we are going to let the magic within us flow for the very beginning. My little fairy garden is only just beginning, but I know it will grow as does the confidence to share with one and that I live in both worlds. Truly magical. xx
To live in both worlds is such a gift— when we alchemize the fact that all of our parts belong in the same room, there is so much healing. I love that you have a fairy garden! May it unlock all the enchantment inside of you.
What a miraculously lucky little dragon girl she is to have you!!!
Thank you, Nina!
Gah. This was so deeply sweet and beautiful and gut wrenching in so many ways. xoxo
Thanks, friend!
I want to tell you, Kendall, that all these dragon games wilk continue forever. I want to tell you that mother-daughters are always this generous with each other. I want to tell you that pretend and play will dominate your lives for a long time more, but it won't.
But what might happen is the play might stay. The silliness and sense of engagement might.
My youngest daughter just moved out in May. We had a few final silly adventures as we prepared. This one here was a pretty good one.
But oh, how I also remember the fae and the dragons.
https://notastraightstory.substack.com/p/the-waiting-game?r=6238f
Thank you for this reminder, Liz. The imagination and the play and the silliness are amazing, and if I’m being totally honest, sometimes exhausting. Sometimes I just want to sink into a book and rest or make dinner without also pretending to be “Chef Luigi” who talks with a silly accent and feeds all the stray animals in town. And then I am reminded that this is not forever, and I know I will miss it when she has moved on from these games. As with everything, both things are true. The exhaustion and the wonder. Holding you, my friend, after the launching of your youngest. What a massive transition. I ‘ll carve some time out to read your post later. Thank you for sharing and for being here!
The exhaustion is also real and needs to be honoured too. You're doing so great!
I don’t have words for how moving this was to read, Kendall. Like I’m still just reeling from it all. There is magic here, and you made me feel it.
Thank you. :)
Thank you, Micheal. I feel like we’re all waking up a bit more to the magic, don’t you? Like the veil is thinner somehow….
That birth story! And this one...!! How lovely that you have each other.
Thank you, Elizabeth! It was a wild ride….
Yes yes yes.💜