Our bodies hold energy of what we’re actively healing and the things we have yet to notice or face.
Writing books has a similar energy.
My book about my brother and grief had a unique raw energy of survival and awkward hope that being honest about how terrible it all was would help a little bit. And it did.
This next book has a different energy. The poems were written during a season of immense challenge and shift. The realities in front of me were hard to untangle but I was determined to softly sit with the pain and see what it needed to say. These poems showed me all over again that we don’t get to heal without feeling our pain. I hate this, by the way. I want the resurrection without the death. But any transformation worth having rarely takes the easy path.
I chatted with my husband a few months ago about how differently it feels to release this book. My grief book felt like a wild child of energy that demanded my full attention at every second. This book? It sat on my computer mostly finished for a year or two with an energy of simple truth. Not demanding much. Just quietly existing with a beautiful whisper, “Send me out when it’s time. I’m in no hurry.”
And I tell you. That’s an intriguing vibe.
My life has been full with family, complex work shifts, and a complicated world around us. So it would have been easy to sit on this book for a few more years until life felt…easier. Or maybe, that makes this a beautiful moment to offer her into the world.
Today, my readers, I offer to you, “There She Is.”
She’s unassuming and disarming.
She’s not in a hurry.
She’s full of quiet invitation.
She’s been mine for the last few years. Kept me warm while I faced a complex part of my story. Honestly, she whispered me home.
And now she is yours. I know you’ll take good care of her.
So many congratulations, Jenny!!!