I’m scrubbling and rubbling and bubbling and doing a bit of sudsy laundry in this wednesday note.
Also known as my clever way of using metaphor and alliteration to try and keep a bit of blog housekeeping interesting.
First, I am so pleased to announce the release of Hidden Lights: A Collection of Truths Not Often Told. An anthology co- edited by Carolyn Riker and myself, this project is 10 months in the making, and we are so happy to finally see its release. A collection of diverse voices that go to the core of truths not often told, this anthology touches on a wide range of human experiences with the common theme of being seen, heard, and valued running through its veins.
Second, I will continue to post on sunshine in winter– mostly poetry and prose- as the mood strikes, but if I’m around less, it’s because I have moved my therapeutic, creative, spiritual, and personal reflections over to my other blog. Also, I recently started a facebook page called Island Songs where I share daily words of inspiration and healing. Please feel free to connect with me on either site.
Last, change is Life’s way. Inevitable and unavoidable. I came to Kauai for change, and change is what I’ve received. In small trickles and then all at once in great gasping waves. Living over here has encouraged and forced me to live bigger, braver, and more authentically and to not be afraid of who I am or the gifts and voice I have been given to use in this world.
On that note, I am very excited to announce that I have been nudged (pushed and pulled, really) to write the sequel to Lamentations of The Sea: 111 passages on grief, love, loss, and letting go. There has always been a counterpart to this story; I just wasn’t ready to write it. But here I find myself, and the time is finally right.
So I am happy to say that in 2018 I will be releasing, Revelations of The Light: 111 passages on soul, spirit, the afterlife, and finding my brother on the other side.
I am overwhelmed by the amount of courage it has taken to get to a place where I can write the words above; undone by the beauty and rightness of how it feels to finally step into alignment with my true self. I have lived, and relived, and lived again the lesson that truth is the catalyst for more truth.
And when we are invested in speaking and living our truth, only there will we find a free heart. Sometimes it just takes a bit of courage to follow it.
Thank you for following along. I’ll be back with more poetry soon, and in the meantime- be well, be free, be truth, be you.
In peace and love,
I’m looking forward to the sequel. I have recently purchased the Lamentations after debating for a while whether to get the ebook or hardcover version. I’ve transitioned to ebooks a while back but somehow felt I might want to touch and hold this one. I’m glad I followed my gut. I love the look and feel of the cover, its heavy weight in my hand. This, just as much as the content, is very comforting when those waves of grief and gushes of tears wash over me. I also experienced a painful breakup after a long relationship, the very sudden loss of my much too young father whom I hardly knew, not to speak of my wavering job satisfaction and burnout, all of which left me in shambles. As you say, there are different kind of griefs, but there seem to be universal themes, stages, phases we go through when we let the ocean of sorrow sweep us away. I don’t know yet on which shore it will set me down again. I almost don’t care anymore, as long as it feels better again, and new and fresh and authentic and life-affirming. What a soul-shattering (or soul-finding?) journey this is…
I so hope the book offers some comfort and warmth during this time. That is a huge amount of loss to go through all at the same time- both soul shattering AND soul finding, I would think. Thank you so much for sharing- we don’t really get to choose the things that break us open in life, but we do have choices about what to do with our breaks. And some days all that means is simply letting ourselves feel all the hard stuff and honor our grief and honor our stories. Wishing you much peace, comfort and light on this journey. ❤ BethAnne
It certainly does, BethAnne, thank you. And as always, good luck (and authenticity) on your journey as well. I admire your courage.