Hal, know we love you. You are a wonder. You are not forgotten. You are in a miserable state, yes. And its ok to say so. But you are more than this illness. The illness comes and goes but you remain forever. Not just your impact upon people throughout the years but you, who you really are, remains forever. You will always be the great Hal Walker! 🙂 I send love your way peace and healing.
Hal, you’re doing it all right. In my grief education, I learned we can’t cry 2,000 tears if we have 10,000. It’s hard not to know. It’s hard not to control. It’s hard to just be and trust but you have wise people around you helping you with that most difficult and challenging and fearful of messages to sit with this darkness knowing that no feeling is final, no night is final, no darkness is final. In your posts, I see hope, the distant stars still twinkling and also there in the day when they can’t be seen any longer. I see the stillness of rest and wonder and contemplation of the vastness. I see a man coming to terms with layers of grief in a wide variety of truths and I admire the work, the honesty, and eloquence. I not only hope soon for you but know it will get better in another moment in time. There is a saying that I tack on the words that I choose to trust buoyancy. I leave off the saying and hope the phrase I tack on is not traumatizing as I think of the buoyancy of spirit and trust in this context. F* all the things that rob people of life and bring loss and grief. F* it, f* it, f* it. Absolutely. Then maybe the curiosity people innocently suggest. Then maybe the what can I take from this and how is this growing me? It’s in the silence, sometimes the blackest silence, that we can hear these answers even if they are painful. If we find them, we release pain enough that it is recognized, acknowledged, not trapped, not a hidden piece of us. Thinking of you, Hal, and sending love from our corner. Keep writing even if it’s only for you and never sees Substack or an audience. It’s for you as much as for us, friend. 💕
Hal please know you are not forgotten & never will be! We are listening & love you! Your words are a way for me to connect to your journey-the suffering & the power of your will. There is so much inside you thank you for sharing all the layers.❤️
Hal, I’m one of those who loves you from a distance. I don’t think you know me. But my admiration for you knows no bounds. Especially now that you have to deal with this terrible disease. Your musical energy added so much to my life. Even though I also lost my choir and UU job, I cry with you for your losses.
Hal, your writing is such a gift to this world, and to me. Despite your pain and sorrow, you take the time to write and record these raw, vulnerable emotions and bring us into your world. You are not disappearing. You are seen. You are admired. You are hugged from afar. You are not just crying in the dark alone; there are those of us who don’t even know you who are crying with you and on your behalf. I’m sorry this is happening. Wishing you peace and love, especially now. Thank you for being such a beautiful soul. I look forward to all your posts, even the hard ones.
Hal, reaching out like this is the best way to pry the jaws open. I'm so glad that you're pushing through sharing with us what you can when you can. Your writing is beautiful.
I will keep a candle burning brightly for you. I too have a chronic disorder that makes life hard sometimes.
What you wrote reminds me of my grandmother. She was bedridden with rheumatoid arthritis. She told me one time that her purpose in life was to pray for the poor souls in purgatory, to help free their souls so they could go to heaven. Your friend was not far wrong when she said that this was your opportunity to ponder the great mystery.
Hal , I wish I was a fairy with a magic wand that could make this all go away . The only thing I can do is send you love and hugs, I don’t say prayers in any great way , I leave it to those that are great at it . So I will take myself to Salisbury Cathedral and ask for prayers for you there . I have always visited that place and believed it helps . Till then I am sending love to you .
Hey Hal- Something in me just said to read your story today, don’t listen to it aloud. From the title I knew it would be painful. I heard it in any case. You’re generous to honestly share what’s so hard to hear. I hope I can be so generous, real, as well as engaging, with whatever I have to offer. Less pain wishes for your holiday break, however long it is
I am here with you, Hal, and I am sorry. We recently switched my diagnosis from ME/CFS to fibromyalgia, and I also have a new heart condition from one “mild” case of COVID. In a conversation with my best friend about the usual difficulties of being in our mid-twenties, I finally said out loud yesterday: in the next few years, it is less likely that I finally make a living wage and more likely that I become too sick for the work I love (and am currently underpaid to do.)
It snowed here in Berea, did it snow in Kent? If so, I hope you get to see it, if only for a moment.
It sucks so much that you’re experiencing this setback. We won’t forget about you, Hal. Hoping for a Christmas miracle that puts you back on your feet and into the spotlight where you belong.
Will be praying for your ease and healing. So sorry what you are going through my friend. I too have experienced the ringing ears and it can be tough. Merry Christmas
Dear Hal, I'm sending you love and strength as you struggle. You are stronger than anyone I know. I'm holding you in my heart. PS There's a lot of really good TV available now! Love, MR Kelsey
I will join the chorus (which you still lead here on Substack, and other places too I would guess) of those who sing their gratefulness to you for being so open and vulnerable and pissed off and sad and angry and all the other emotions that I imagine you must be cycling through. I can imagine what you are going through -- your writing and voice describe it so heartbreakingly vividly -- but empathy only goes so far. I do hope that expressing it all, out loud, via the page, gives some amount of relief.
I only recently found your newsletter, or, more accurately, it found me. How, I have no idea, though probably as a recommendation from another follow ‘stacker. That’s one element I love about this platform, the way discovery happens, via community, via magic.
Hal, know we love you. You are a wonder. You are not forgotten. You are in a miserable state, yes. And its ok to say so. But you are more than this illness. The illness comes and goes but you remain forever. Not just your impact upon people throughout the years but you, who you really are, remains forever. You will always be the great Hal Walker! 🙂 I send love your way peace and healing.
Hal, you’re doing it all right. In my grief education, I learned we can’t cry 2,000 tears if we have 10,000. It’s hard not to know. It’s hard not to control. It’s hard to just be and trust but you have wise people around you helping you with that most difficult and challenging and fearful of messages to sit with this darkness knowing that no feeling is final, no night is final, no darkness is final. In your posts, I see hope, the distant stars still twinkling and also there in the day when they can’t be seen any longer. I see the stillness of rest and wonder and contemplation of the vastness. I see a man coming to terms with layers of grief in a wide variety of truths and I admire the work, the honesty, and eloquence. I not only hope soon for you but know it will get better in another moment in time. There is a saying that I tack on the words that I choose to trust buoyancy. I leave off the saying and hope the phrase I tack on is not traumatizing as I think of the buoyancy of spirit and trust in this context. F* all the things that rob people of life and bring loss and grief. F* it, f* it, f* it. Absolutely. Then maybe the curiosity people innocently suggest. Then maybe the what can I take from this and how is this growing me? It’s in the silence, sometimes the blackest silence, that we can hear these answers even if they are painful. If we find them, we release pain enough that it is recognized, acknowledged, not trapped, not a hidden piece of us. Thinking of you, Hal, and sending love from our corner. Keep writing even if it’s only for you and never sees Substack or an audience. It’s for you as much as for us, friend. 💕
Hal please know you are not forgotten & never will be! We are listening & love you! Your words are a way for me to connect to your journey-the suffering & the power of your will. There is so much inside you thank you for sharing all the layers.❤️
Hal, I’m one of those who loves you from a distance. I don’t think you know me. But my admiration for you knows no bounds. Especially now that you have to deal with this terrible disease. Your musical energy added so much to my life. Even though I also lost my choir and UU job, I cry with you for your losses.
Hal, your writing is such a gift to this world, and to me. Despite your pain and sorrow, you take the time to write and record these raw, vulnerable emotions and bring us into your world. You are not disappearing. You are seen. You are admired. You are hugged from afar. You are not just crying in the dark alone; there are those of us who don’t even know you who are crying with you and on your behalf. I’m sorry this is happening. Wishing you peace and love, especially now. Thank you for being such a beautiful soul. I look forward to all your posts, even the hard ones.
Hal, reaching out like this is the best way to pry the jaws open. I'm so glad that you're pushing through sharing with us what you can when you can. Your writing is beautiful.
Dear Hal,
I will keep a candle burning brightly for you. I too have a chronic disorder that makes life hard sometimes.
What you wrote reminds me of my grandmother. She was bedridden with rheumatoid arthritis. She told me one time that her purpose in life was to pray for the poor souls in purgatory, to help free their souls so they could go to heaven. Your friend was not far wrong when she said that this was your opportunity to ponder the great mystery.
I wish you wellness of body and mind. Peace.
Hal , I wish I was a fairy with a magic wand that could make this all go away . The only thing I can do is send you love and hugs, I don’t say prayers in any great way , I leave it to those that are great at it . So I will take myself to Salisbury Cathedral and ask for prayers for you there . I have always visited that place and believed it helps . Till then I am sending love to you .
Hey Hal- Something in me just said to read your story today, don’t listen to it aloud. From the title I knew it would be painful. I heard it in any case. You’re generous to honestly share what’s so hard to hear. I hope I can be so generous, real, as well as engaging, with whatever I have to offer. Less pain wishes for your holiday break, however long it is
Hal
We are praying for you. You are not forgotten and never will be. Hoping the monster will ease it's grip on you and allow you to rest.
I am here with you, Hal, and I am sorry. We recently switched my diagnosis from ME/CFS to fibromyalgia, and I also have a new heart condition from one “mild” case of COVID. In a conversation with my best friend about the usual difficulties of being in our mid-twenties, I finally said out loud yesterday: in the next few years, it is less likely that I finally make a living wage and more likely that I become too sick for the work I love (and am currently underpaid to do.)
It snowed here in Berea, did it snow in Kent? If so, I hope you get to see it, if only for a moment.
I feel it, you take us with you, and despite how real your disease is and unlike our lives on our feet, we still feel it. Dang
It sucks so much that you’re experiencing this setback. We won’t forget about you, Hal. Hoping for a Christmas miracle that puts you back on your feet and into the spotlight where you belong.
Will be praying for your ease and healing. So sorry what you are going through my friend. I too have experienced the ringing ears and it can be tough. Merry Christmas
Dear Hal, I'm sending you love and strength as you struggle. You are stronger than anyone I know. I'm holding you in my heart. PS There's a lot of really good TV available now! Love, MR Kelsey
I will join the chorus (which you still lead here on Substack, and other places too I would guess) of those who sing their gratefulness to you for being so open and vulnerable and pissed off and sad and angry and all the other emotions that I imagine you must be cycling through. I can imagine what you are going through -- your writing and voice describe it so heartbreakingly vividly -- but empathy only goes so far. I do hope that expressing it all, out loud, via the page, gives some amount of relief.
I only recently found your newsletter, or, more accurately, it found me. How, I have no idea, though probably as a recommendation from another follow ‘stacker. That’s one element I love about this platform, the way discovery happens, via community, via magic.