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.
Ashley Mikell
I love this post, Polly, and your photos are beautiful !
Pastorswife
Wish I’d thanked you for this kind comment waaaaaay sooner, Ashley! Glad you liked it; the photos almost took themselves, in such beautiful places.
Darcy Caldwell
Polly, I love your writing, your perspective, your ability to notice things that ring true for so many of us. You are an inspiration if not to read and write then simply to pay attention. I cannot wait for your book to be published. Thank you thank you for this blog and all that you generously share with us. xoxoxoxoxo Darcy
Pastorswife
Very generous of you to say, Darcy…thanks so much. My family might wish that I would consider withholding more of my observations, and they do have a point, but I hope that in the proper context (i.e, a blog like this) I can relish in the freedom to develop some ideas that spring from what I observe in this beautiful multi-faceted world. Honestly, it can all make one giddy sometimes!
Suzanne Walsh
Enjoyed your blog. I used to live in the Northeast Kingdom. Great picture of Lake Willoughby.
Pastorswife
Right, Suzanne…love that connection! Yes, my son took that picture right from the porch where we were staying. Willoughby, right in between those two peaks, is always so breathtaking. We also visited Crystal Lake, up in Barton, and had a great swim there.
Jane Pemberton
I always enjoy your writing, Polly, and the pictures were a delight. The alpacas seem to have individual personalities. Warmest congratulations on the forthcoming book. Jane
Pastorswife
Thank you, Jane! Both of the places we went presented such natural beauty..as did the alpacas, in my friend’s barn.
I’ll ask about their names and fill you in more, soon.
Paul Krupka
Polly,
Thank you for sharing your journey. I’m certain the work will yield a splendid result that will warm many a heart.
Paul
Pastorswife
So kind of you to say, PK. I very much appreciate your loyalty here. Excellent to have the West Coast perspective, too, so keep these coming!
scottie faerber
Love your reflections, Polly, and the photos, and that your book will be published!!!
Beautiful summer in Amherst, and we hope in NH. Love, Scottie
Pastorswife
Thanks so much, Scottie! Your support always means a lot to me. Yes, and now that the high temps have come down a little, we can more fully enjoy the outdoors these days. And, from our screened porch, just listening to the birds twittering and the insects buzzing is such a pleasure.