Why I Started All This

When you get what you asked for, it’s normal to feel happy/excited/relieved…as well as uneasy/anxious/unworthy.

At least this is what I’m telling myself these days as I begin to work with the publishing company that has graciously agreed to get my manuscript, becoming a real book, out. Our target date is Spring of ’25, so I have plenty of time to fret and to take deep breaths. Well, maybe not all that much time. The fact is, it’s remarkably easy to believe that maybe this whole project is somehow half-baked, not a necessary contribution to the literary world, ho-hum.

One thing I’m doing is asking myself how I got here, what propelled me to write this particular story. About 18 years ago (!!!), when life felt overflowing with rich moments, I began jotting things down in a big blue looseleaf notebook, my “clergy wife journal.”

Then I started shaping essays to send out to newspapers; they landed. And then, wanting a place to strengthen my voice, explore a broad theme and see if I could draw in an audience, I started this blog.

I distinctly recall talking with Rob about what I might be aiming for, what was motivating me. The setting for our conversation that day turned out to be a huge help; we had a kind of “lightbulb moment” even though we were looking at bare walls.

Here’s what I wrote in the Welcome Message which still appears on this site:

My husband painted our bedroom recently, and my favorite part is the line between the rich beige (called “Amulet”) and the white of the ceiling.   Over and over, my eye is drawn to where the two colors come together…but stay separate.  These places, to me, illustrate so much that is true about regular life.  Sometimes we can see them, and sometimes we just feel them.  An ordinary moment in the present takes us right back to a time long ago; a person who is known for behaving one way does something completely uncharacteristic; an experience we counted on to be wonderful turns out to be crushingly disappointing.   We are shaken or maybe moved by the juxtaposition of things, and we try to get hold of our feelings. 

Hey, wait a minute. These walls, looking more green than beige, must’ve been in another room! The fact is, it was so long ago now, we hardly remember.

But this summer, on two different trips, I’ve gotten many reminders of why these various kinds of juxtapositions, especially the places where one element meets another in the natural world, are so compelling. And all of these scenes which I’ve witnessed have served to remind me that my original theme, the one that inspired the full-length memoir about marriage that I’ll be getting out into the world next year, still holds. In an odd kind of way, the traveling helped boost my confidence about what my story portrays…at least what I hope readers will find there. Maybe this is wishful thinking, but it sure is a good antidote to feeling uneasy/anxious/unworthy.

Now I’ll just share the photos with you; they can speak for themselves.

Here’s a view from the Cabot Trail in Cape Breton, Nova Scotia. Ribbon of road on land, flowers, sea, and sky:

Elsewhere on Cape Breton, from a beach: shells, sand, water, land, sky.

And then in the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont, a view of the gap between Mount Hor and Mount Pisgah; Lake Willoughby lies between them. Trees, peaks, clouds, sunset sky, more clouds. And then, on a rainy climb up one of those peaks, a view of the lake with rocks and trees framing it.

Finally, the group shot I took when I stopped to see Terry (who has been my “webmaster” ever since the blog began) at the farm where she and her husband live and work. I was so glad to see their alpacas in the barn! They’re all in the same species, but these girls (because they’re all female) are distinct individuals, too. Can you tell?

Their job has been to be shorn of their wool – last April – and now to be growing a new coat of wool again. In the meantime, they can enjoy their lives, out in the fields much of the time.

My job, the one I took on for no pay because I felt moved to write on a particular theme, is to stay the course for these final months of nurturing and see my “offspring” get safely out into the world. What happens then, well, I’ll just to have to hold my head up and be proud. And then, thank goodness, move on.