I am not Cathy Earnshaw.
I am not Cathy Linton.
Or Isabella Linton.
Yet you are write these characters with such texture that I connect to them. They are not women who are likely heroes, but I still hear the trials and understand them.
This seems important, as you seem like none of these women either, from the short biographies we now have of your life. You write in such an a rich way, that we even connect with Heathcliff.
You come over as someone who had a sense of wonder alongside a sense of home. Who could carve rich imagined worlds from the limits of your bedroom. If we could all write like this or imagine life like this, we would all be able to live freely.
Your poetry also talks of being in the moment. Connecting ourselves into the presence.We have a name for that now – Mindfulness. Linking that to your rich imagination is both inspiring and humbling.
“Thy mind is ever moving
In regions dark to thee;
Recall its useless roving—
Come back and dwell with me.”
Shall Earth No More Inspire Me, Emily Bronte
My mind is ever moving. If I could hang out and chat with you, I am sure that I could become enlightened on this darker regions.