O the courage of yarrow,
impossibly blooming through
abandoned asphalt. Yarrow—
meaning healing & love,
meaning even the thickest lid
above the wild seed of our hope
cannot contain tenacious life.
Fifteen summer solstices ago—give or take a matter of hours—I wrote my first blog post here on Wordbody. There have been many books and paintings since then. Many things lost and a few things won. I’ve shared most all of them here. Some posts are long, considered essays. Others are the equivalent of a photo and caption. Some I think about for weeks. Others pop into my head the day I decide to post, inspired by a word or image. Like this one.
You can easily guess at my inspiration. I came across this stuffed unicorn on my walk. It was much larger than it looks: almost five feet long, lying right there on the shoulder of our country road. I couldn’t help but wonder who had lost it, dumped it, or left it.
These days, a unicorn is often a metaphor for a uniquely successful start-up or entrepreneur. But once upon a time—back when the equivalent of television was stained glass and tapestries—it represented qualities like purity, freedom, gentleness.
I don’t have a grand plan for this post—it’s one of the quick ones. But to honor my blog’s quinceañera, I wanted to give her a gift. Not the dirty stuffed unicorn but what that mythical being once represented. Actually, I’d love for the world to give itself those gifts. Purity doesn’t have to be unique. Freedom doesn’t have to mean a financial boon. Gentleness doesn’t require a horn growing from the middle of our heads. Really, it’s a gift to know we can cultivate these things right where we are.
Happy birthday, Wordbody. May the next fifteen years be full of everyday magic, too.
Ten springs ago, I walked the hills of Wales. I was in the middle of making a choice, and this little pedestrian path sign seemed like the perfect metaphor for choices.
It also reminds me of these lines from the Dr. Seuss classic, Oh, the Places You'll Go!
You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself
any direction you choose.
That day on the path, didn't know that I'd make a really bad decision later that year. Nor that I'd make a really good one not long after.
Interestingly, all those Welsh paths eventually led back to the same trailhead.
Interestingly, all of our choices—bad and good—lead us right where we need to be. Even if we feel lost in some landscapes and seasons.
I guess this post is a kind of blessing on our choices—a reminder of the great gift choice is.
Happy trails, happy choosing,
|Happy Book Birthday!|
This illustrated vignette was a labor of love. In fact, it was born out of what I thought was lost love. I had met my now-husband the summer before, but it hadn't worked out at the time. Heartbroken, I decided to finally write a book. About hearts, of course.
I had no idea how prophetic this little book would become. It was the first of six published books (and counting!). It traveled the world with me in subsequent workshops. And it's a continual reminder that when we feel like we can't go any further as we are, we are being invited to grow a whole new way to move through this world.
Here's to heart-flight.
I'm saving my writing juice for the Big Project, so this month's post is a little encouragement to press on & press through. And maybe remember the determination we had once upon our little selves!
Plus something lovely from John O'Donohue's poem "For the Interim Time:"
The more faithfully you can endure here,
The more refined your heart will become....
Blessings of endurance,
Anna, now & then
|One of the things I learned from my husband: |
Shoe Goo fixes most everything!
Part of my book-writing process is creating a list of terms: alphabetized proper names and odd or specific spellings. This is helpful both in style sheets for future copy editors but also when I can't seem to remember if "corn dog" is one word or two.
The list of terms for my current book on the first year of marriage is now ten pages long, and when I skimmed through looking for something the other day, I thought that some of the letters read like little found poems. And so, I share the letter S here.
(Random things I did not know: what was once the capitalized acronym SCUBA is now lowercase scuba, and Snoop Dogg spells his name with two Gs. Always learning!)
Saint Teresa of Ávila
Sarah & Byron
Sarah & Christer
Sour Patch Kids
South Kelsey Trail
South Fork Salmon (River)
The Space Between
Starsky & Hutch
summa cum laude