A Year Afloat

And so it began. After Mother’s Day 2024 upon the urging and encouragement of a trusted mentor—

Darius Bashar

of

The Artist Morning™

—to explore creating for Substack. I longed to heed the call to contribute, to offer forth towards greater community and yet was loathe to add to the noise. We live in a noisy world. The digital space amplifies the din. So how to float quietly, hear one’s breath, the whisperings of Soul, yet still reach others within their boats upon this sea of embodied experience we name life?

The Golden Boat set sail. It sails quietly forth into today. The offerings? Evergreen. No expiration date upon lived experience and timeless postcards from the voyage. I’m deeply grateful for you who receive what is given here. Your presence, your kindness, your questions, your generous support in return. And for those who also express upon Substack. I’m an avid listener, viewer and reader here. Thank you for transforming the blank page into veritable feasts over and over again.

To mark one year of travel upon The Golden Boat, a glance back at the starting point.

And so it began…

a blessing transformed into a prayer.

BOUNDLESS BLESSING

An honor to be raised by her.

An honor to be her primary caregiver for her final 17 years.

And while our systems consistently undervalue parenting and caregiving,

we know the worth is beyond bounds.

So today,

after the designated day of national celebration,

and the quiet and the noisy,

the hard and the soft,

the mess and the grace,

the joy and the anguish of the everyday-ness

of giving care

returns,

along with those moments

when you question if you can keep on keeping on…

know and trust you can

and will.

For the job ends one day…

it just does.

And that’s when you know

you would do it all again

in a heartbeat.

photos & words by AJ Wehr

So that was the first offering from The Golden Boat in May 2024 in honor of my mom, “Big A” Adriann Bocskay Wehr (April 14, 1927 - September 15, 2023) and all the beloved collaborators in care who joined me—“Little A”—over the years of walking “Big A” home.

And here’s to one year of this voyage upon The Golden Boat. If you missed any moments along the way, they wait for you for whenever you feel called to explore.

May you keep well. I look forward to being with you next time upon The Golden Boat.