Dear fellow Misfits,
Some days, I feel like I’ve forgotten how to write.
I was recently rereading some old poems I haven’t touched in a few years. I once dreamed of writing a chapbook called Sabbatical Poems, mostly based on things we did and saw during the three months we spent in Colorado two summers ago.
I wrote about twelve poems. I’m not sure they were that great to begin with, though I will say if I worked really hard for a few decades, I could be a decent poet by the time I’m 65. Fingers crossed.
But I do miss a part of myself that came alive that summer. The part that had been lying dormant for several years. The part that noticed.
The part that used to lay in the grass when my children were young, finding words for the exact color of each blade as it swayed in the wind.
The part that wanted to effectively describe the sound male cicadas make among the pinions so that you could almost hear it even if you weren’t there.
The part that went back across the creek so that I could see a decaying animal and illuminate that particular mix of fascination and disgust.
Where is that part? Is she gone for good? Or is she still here, lurking beneath the brain fog and internet scrolling, inoperative beneath the glorious challenging tiring years of child-rearing, sidelined by the neurochemical disruptions and physical changes of a woman’s forties?
Maybe she's seasoning, incorporating the wisdom of age, pain, loss, and the knowledge that the world darker and more beautiful than she thought. Maybe she’s just resting. Lying in wait. Patient until it’s time to stretch out and take on something new.
I hope she’ll tell me when she’s ready.
Christiana
A few things that start with M:
Memento Mori: We just dropped a new episode of our podcast Til Death Do Us Part in which we talk about the origins of Memento Mori and why the practice of Memento Mori can help us become more compassionate to those around the world who are suffering.
Music: Two summers ago, I took our eldest son (a huge fan) and daughter to a Coldplay concert. Ever since, we find ourselves cycling through different Coldplay songs and albums according to our moods and the seasons. Lately, I’ve been listening on repeat to the song Everyday Life. The lyrics are simple and beautiful and hopeful. Also, I love this version by Audrey Assad and Moda Spira.
Magic: I’m reading The Assassin’s Apprentice by Robin Hobb and I’ve been having trouble putting it down. It’s a high fantasy novel from the 90s and it’s so well written.
Mirth:
A literary joke for fans of Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter. Yes, they are very similar. We always knew it and we don’t care.
Deer blind dad jokes.
Speaking of poems, here’s an old one of mine that actually got published. Spoiler alert: it’s about death.