Surrender, Remembrance, & Optimism

Life lessons that keep on rolling

Y.L. Wolfe
Published in
3 min readApr 9, 2024


Photo by Carley & Matt T. via Pexels

Well, hello there! I know, it’s been a long time. I haven’t sent out a Wilder newsletter since the height of the pandemic.

Why start again? I’ve been going through my past work and found so many gems that are now buried under the new content on this platform, and I wanted to take some time to highlight some of these pieces, especially for those of you who are new to me and my work.

The second story I published in Wilder (after the introductory essay) is one dear (pun intended) to my heart: How a Day in the Woods Taught Me to Surrender. It is an essay about the day I came upon a dead stag in the woods, not long after my most significant boyfriend ended our relationship. In this season of my life, nearly ten years later, as I face another time of death, this story reminds me again of the spiritual lessons of surrender.

Soon after, I published Love Your Period (One Day It Will Be Gone), and today, I find myself nostalgic for the slightly younger woman who wrote that and wasn’t yet ready for menopause. Though I still likely have a few more years of bleeding ahead of me, I have to say, I think I’m ready to be done. I loved my period off and on…and I’m good now. Let’s move on with life. (More on this topic to come for all my perimenopausal readers out there.)

Speaking of that…I published a poem about impending menopause last week and it didn’t get much love, which just will not do. Please give The Woman & the Hag’s Torch a read, especially if you are a woman over 40. We need to take some time to mark this sacred transition.

(Leave a comment if you know what a hag’s torch is…no googling!)

Photo by Y.L. Wolfe

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I might become an optimist. I might need to become one. This world is hard and dark and I am struggling.

But a few days ago, while feeling under the weather, I re-watched Under the Tuscan Sun and remembered what a happy, joyful, life-affirming movie it is. That last line about unthinkably good things happening even late in the game gets me right in the heart every time.

We need that, wouldn’t you say? We need unthinkably good things to happen. Because unthinkably bad things are happening all too often.

I don’t know what this means for me, other than that it reminds me why I started writing in the first place. It reminds me of the beauty and art I wanted to create. The unthinkably good things.

We’ll get there in time — and maybe even to a place where I’d be considered optimistic. I’ll do my best. Starting here.

Love and hope,




Y.L. Wolfe
Editor for

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