Winter Trees, Winter Reads

I have been diving into creative solitude this winter by writing, reading, and watching trees. One of my many book companions was May Sarton’s luminous Journal of a Solitude. Her wisdom on poetry alone astounds me. But so does her more general wisdom, some of which I decided to share on this first day of Lent: 

 

“Under the light of eternity things, the daily trivia, the daily frustrations, fall away.” (54)

 

“It is only when we can believe that we are creating the soul that life has any meaning, but when we can believe it—and I do and always have—then there is nothing we do that is without meaning and nothing that we suffer that does not hold the seed of creation in it.” (67)

 

“[S]olitude is one of the ways toward communion.” (73)

 

“I have said elsewhere that we have to make myths of our lives, the point being that if we do, then every grief or inexplicable seizure by weather, woe, or work can—if we discipline ourselves and think hard enough—be turned to account, be made to yield further insight into what it is to be alive, to be a human being, what the hazards are of a fairly usual, everyday kind.” (108)

 

“[R]eal joy. It is becoming exceedingly rare among artists of any kind. And I have an idea that those who can and do communicate it are always people who have had a hard time. Then the joy has no smugness or self-righteousness, it is inclusive not exclusive, and comes close to prayer.” (182) 

 

 

May Sarton, Journal of a Solitude. W. W. Norton & Company, 1977.

 

 

The "is" in this

All the swallows sing of sky,

& I try to wintry listen

to the is of this

the is in this. 

Solstice Song

Inspired by reading Wintering this Solstice morning...

Solstice Song

Winter comes, kind & slow—

unseen behind the glitter of other gifts.

Outside, the trees root deeper.

Inside, the fire glows brighter.

And further inside, the spirit asks to rest—

asks for fewer shoulds & more stillness.

For less noise & more silence

 

& more silence

 

 

& more silence

 

 

& the winter lovers listen.

The Long Game of Joy

I am delighted to announce the release of my new book on the first year of marriage!

The Long Game of Joy is the book I wish I could have read before I said “I do.” It’s a blend of memoir, manual, and meditation; interwoven within the story of our first year of marriage, you’ll find practical advice from savvy relationship experts and bits of poetry for those moments when no practicalities will do. You’ll encounter a wild mix of the sacred and mundane—the Enneagram, rivers, the wound-that-heals-us, RITZ-cracker communion, the True Self, corn dogs, and a key thing called zimzum. This is a playbook for couples looking to up their game by practicing grace to live in gratitude, faith to trust, and forgiveness to love. May we celebrate marriage in all its mud and wonder, all its stains and stars. Here’s to the learning curve of love for the win. 

Below you’ll find a bit of the first chapter, “We Fought About What?” 

 

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I titled this book The Long Game of Joy, though I’m not a huge fan of games—there’s usually just one winner. But I discovered that on the playing field of marriage, both players can win. On this Unified Field of Love, two can become one and know joy. 

 

Which might sound sweet…. 

 

But it’s also a marvelous-hard healing process! 

 

I confess: the first year of marriage was rough for me. And I’m pretty sure it would have been rough regardless of whom I’d married; I had too much of my own unlearning and learning to do—even though I thought I’d done it. 

 

That’s one of the many things I wish I’d known but discovered only after talking with people who’d been married 10, 20, 30, 40+ years. And after reading poems to help with mystery. And after reading books on marriage to help with practicalities. All of which I’ll reference often in these pages. Like this bit of wisdom from Winifred Reilly: 

 

I thought of how helpful it would have been to have learned, early on in my marriage, that not every problem can be solved and not every irritant can be negotiated away, that a good marriage is a mixture of delight and disgruntlement, that unhappiness comes from expecting it to be otherwise.*

 

That’s good advice for the long game.

 

And what is the long game? 

 

A long-term endeavor. 

 

A marriage…. 

 

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You can read the rest in the book (both as paperback and eBook).

 

My gratitude to Bo Stern-Brady for her lovely endorsement:   

 

Anna Elkins has the ability to capture a world of emotion, turmoil, joy, and hope in just one sentence. In her newest book, The Long Game of Joy, she tells the story of her first year of marriage with a mix of disarming transparency and delightful self-awareness that only serves to elevate the magic and mystery of love. This is the book for those who suspect that true love still exists, but it is messier, sturdier, and yet more beautiful than the fairytales have led us to believe.—Bo Stern-Brady, author of Beautiful Battlefields 

 

Here's to grace, faith, and forgiveness in all realms of life,

 

Anna (pictured here with my husband, Jared, at the start of our long game)

 

PS: If you enjoy The Long Game of Joy, please do leave a review!

PPS: And do share it in social-media-land: #TheLongGameOfJoy

 

* Winifred M. Reilly, It Takes One to Tango: How I Rescued My Marriage with (Almost) No Help from My Spouse—and How You Can, Too (Gallery Books, 2017), 236.

Book Brinking

It's almost that time...publication time! My newest book has a November due date, and as I wrap up all the pre-pub stuff, I remember all of the resources that helped me write my own. 

This photo shows a fraction of the (way-too-many!) books I read and quoted in my own upcoming book about the first year of marriage. I am immensely grateful to the authors who shared their wisdom on relationships and communication, and I hope that my writing will be helpful to others, too. 

And so, on this brink of a new book, I thank the brave souls who write about the hard things. My already-deep respect for you has grown!

Here's to forging joy....

How to heal the world...

Give thanks
Take joy

An August Nod to Machado

Some Antonio Machado magic for these dog days of summer:

And the golden bees
were making white combs
and sweet honey
from my old failures.

From his poem, “Last Night As I Lay Sleeping,” translated by Robert Bly