Hello beautiful human,
ooooh, that’s a nice round number up above, innit? One hundred and fifty days of showing up here, whatever mood I’m in and whatever is going on around me. True, there was a little trip to Florida in there somewhere but even then I scheduled small made things in advance to keep the daily momentum chug chug chugging along, like the Little Engine who thought she could thought she could thought she could and did.
One hundred and fifty days ago, I needed to create An Inviting Space to give myself a place to come to, to build back from close to zero some kind of daily practice. To stretch. My writing practice has always been some mix of meditation and expression, and on some deep level that was not entirely conscious or planned, in January 2024 I simply felt I had reached a point where I needed a container that would allow me to grow whatever creative expressionful seeds I intuitively, instinctively knew were ready to be nurtured. I knew I also wanted whatever I made to be of service to others. I had no idea what would happen but I thought, if I could create a Space of welcome, a Space that allowed not just myself but anyone who entered to exhale, to pause, to breathe a more accepting and supportive atmosphere for even a few minutes in a busy day, maybe that would be of value. I thought it was worth it to try and find out.
And here we are, one hundred and fifty days in and counting. I might have to have a piece of cake to celebrate.
Now I think I’ll take a real break.
Dailyness is a practice and a promise. It’s not perfect and it doesn’t need to be. Over the last hundred and fifty days, as I’ve deepened and stretched back into a public and published writing voice, I’ve also expanded and rediscovered a lush interiority full of whispers and intriguing little breezes. The deep dark forests of mind have grown up all around me, and cries and rustlings of unknown origin beckon me further inwards. Public and private. The two energies grew—and probably had to grow—simultaneously. This morning, as I think about how I’ve stretched into the structures and architectures of a public space, I know I also need to relearn how to house and protect the quiet, private, dark time, to tend the secret gardens of the imagination.
This is something our current cultural moment misses in how we think about creativity, output, audience and performance. Lost in a haze of dopamine hits and stats tracking, we forget we need to be off camera sometimes. We need to be silent. And if we don’t build that in, with care and attentiveness, we risk burning out and drying up, over and over again until we learn the lesson. COVID offered us a global lesson that I’m afraid we missed the point of. Growth and productivity are not linear and they also aren’t steady states. Flow comes in waves and seasons. Fallow periods are not disaster and shouldn’t be taboo to talk about, And while sometimes they can’t be planned, we can also do our best to recognize and welcome into our lives down time and dark time as necessary and nourishing.
With all this in mind, I’ll be taking a few days away, dear reader, as the moon drains from full once again and we recover from the apex of Solstice. I think it will be good for this Space and what wants to come next. Small made thing number 151 will find you sometime in early July.
“It’s the rest between bursts of energy that makes a garden—and a writing practice—sustainable.” - Ann Kathryn Kelly
There’s a softness in the air this morning. Summer is ripening towards July, towards an apex that arrives sometime after the solstice has passed. We are coming into the period now where time hangs, suspended. It happens twice each year, in January and July, when either Winter and Summer, each in their turn, settles in to say, Pause. Most of the year is a whirl, the turning of a giant wheel. But once in a while the motion ceases. It’s good if we can catch those seasonal moments and relax into them. Slow the bustle. Pour a glass of sun tea. Close your eyes and purr.
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Today’s invitation: Where, when, how do you rest? How do you shut the door and give yourself the private spaces you need to recover, discover and uncover? What secret gardens do you tend?
Looking to grow the connection and the energy? Here are some possibilities:
Your attention and time are the true gifts. Thank you. xoS