Make it Beautiful

despite everything

I’ve just returned from vacation, a short stint in Denver followed by some time in Keystone, Colorado, and I’m sick. We had a fine time while away, saw some friends and family, communed with the mountains, had no travel troubles…..but falling ill was not the way I wanted to step into mid March as I prepare for a number of book events¹ that are coming up this spring. But, turns out we don’t get to choose when illness strikes, so I’m trying to just breathe through the [long, boring] days and rest as much as possible. I called in sick to my day job. The tea kettle hisses constantly, cup by my side at all times. I read an entire 400 page book on Monday.² Today I have answered a few emails, rescheduled an event that was supposed to be tomorrow (see footnote), stared at the wall a lot, felt annoyed that I still feel so lousy on day four of feeling lousy, and slept for a time in a sunbeam (highly recommended, especially when chilled). Having no energy is not my usual—it’s a bit of a shock to be forced to move extra slow, even stop entirely, and take things off the calendar (especially in book launch season). I don’t like having to ask for and accept so much help from others (even though I write about how important it is to do that on a fairly regular basis..) It’s harder to see beauty, the possibilities, even though it’s all still there, despite everything.

I have been using tea bags, not loose leaf, but this is a nice photograph of tea.

You could make this place beautiful³

is a line borrowed, sure, but it’s also

a line true for anyone

willing to look past the rough edges

or peer into darkness through a soft lens,

anyone tending a wound

bound in shadow or with cuts that are on

their way to healing but aren’t quite there,

anyone who holds room for possibility

on a lonely lingering day in a winter

that’s holding on tight —

even then, you could make

this place beautiful.

I’ll end this missive there, I think, lest I ramble on incoherently in an illness-induced haze. I hope to see you at some of the events listed in the footnotes! I should be good and healed up by next week, and even if I’m not quite 100% yet, the event next week is virtual, so we’ll make it through.

May you find the possibilities that exist inside every moment, from the uncomfortable to the glorious. Find the angle that allows you to see the beauty that remains, despite everything.

1. On Tuesday, March 21 at 7 PM CT, Join Meghan J. Ward and I via Moon Palace Books for a reading and conversation about Collisions of Earth and Sky and Meghan’s latest, Lights to Guide Me Home. This is a virtual event. Please register on Crowdcast.

Due to my illness, Ellie Roscher and I will now be at Next Chapter Booksellers in St. Paul, MN on Wednesday, March 29 at 6pm CT for a conversation and signing. (Rescheduled from March 15.)

And this is a fun one….Collisions of Earth and Sky is the featured book for WonderLIT, a deeply restorative retreat experience sparking wonder and enhancing wellness with literature, people and the natural world. If it's feasible for you, consider joining us April 14-16th for this unique two-night retreat in Concord, MA. Registration is open! I hope to join in person, but at the very least, I’ll be there virtually and, of course, via the book.

And a little further out, I’ll be at Cream & Amber in Hopkins (with Emily Brisse!) on Sunday, April 23 at 3pm, and in Dubuque, Iowa at the Shalom Spirituality Center for an evening reading followed by a day of renewal on May 11-12 (more to come on that soon..).

2. A Court of Thorns and Roses, by Sarah Maas. It was entertaining, and being fantasy, nothing like actual life—which makes it a good sick day read.

3. Line borrowed from Maggie Smith, whose book of that title comes out in April.