Hello! Good Morning! It’s been a minute. Or, rather, months. Or actually, somehow, just over a year.
To those who may have experienced concern, I’m so sorry if my lack of communication left you wondering. To those who maybe didn’t even notice, I’m grateful you’re still here. Thank you for waiting for me.
Many things contributed in tearing me away for a necessary hiatus from this newsletter and budding community, much of which I look forward to tenderly touching on in the future. In short, after moving into our cabin by the sea, it all just became too much.
There have been several times over the past several months where I’ve had juicy ideas for jumping back into sharing here with you all, but a tiny voice inside begged me to just wait, you’re allowed to give yourself time—reminding this reformed people-pleaser that it’s okay to potentially disappoint people. Or even, leave people wondering.
It’s okay.
There’s something to be said of surrendering to the exquisite quiet of an intentional pause, which in current times has felt rebelliously brave more than anything else. While the pressure in my head favored CaPiTaLiZiNg on the amazing attention generated over Leo’s published written piece (which was recognized with a 2023 Lowell Thomas award!), followed by the digital video feature with Good Morning America going viral, my spirit howled for her turn and the necessity of fully grieving the loss of her beloved child on the Earthly plane.
Soon, I learned, it was impossible to do both. My over-functioning, delayed-grief-stricken self was fiercely swept out into the tumultuous, deep teal waters of the Salish Sea.
Our time in the cabin was an escape from reality in a pendulum swing opposite of our beloved home in Fort Collins. An A-frame in a cold and isolating neighborhood proved to be quite an experience compared to the simplicity of a new construction townhome that had as much warm love outside our front door as it did on the inside, before Leo passed.
The wall of south facing windows provided a panoramic view of the Salish Sea and Camano Island, framed with towering hemlocks on either side. We experienced daily interactions with resident bald eagles who truly seemed to acknowledge our presence as kind neighbors in their neck of the woods with a turn to their wing, followed by a friendly glance in our direction as they floated above. Tiny treasures were seemingly laid in our path for effortless beach-combing on mid-morning seaside strolls. It was all like living in a dream, until it wasn’t.
While spending a year living in a semi-remote, Air-bnb-esque cabin with easy access to two miles of private beach was something I definitely didn’t have on my bingo card even just over a year ago, it was the perfect opportune location to melt down and be (a mess) with my (our) feelings.
Learning the owners of the cabin were unexpectedly returning in the spring—and our initial plans of staying another year were now not an option—Ryan and I once again found ourselves staring at a map with tired eyes wondering, where to now?
So, it may amuse you to know we’ve gone ahead and moved again. Our sixth relocation schlep in under five years, god help us. More on that soon!
Over this past year, I’ve learned there’s genuine power in the pause amidst darkness. There’s wisdom waiting to be gained in the sweet spaces between inhales and exhales, if only we curiously indulge and surrender.
“I do not understand the mystery of grace — only that it meets us where we are and does not leave us where it found us.”
― Anne Lamott
At this moment, while I’m far from holding the clarity in the purposeful direction my heart has been praying and working for these past few months, most days I’m awkwardly settled into a peaceful presence of the unknown. Showing up for ourselves is a priority—the priority, many would argue. It’s helpful to remind myself this season is simply a new version of a familiar song and dance, being outside my comfort zone once again. Thinking back to the early years spent actively mothering as Leo’s Mama, I know this place doesn’t have to be scary.
Thank you for waiting for me. It feels so good to be back!
What a lovely surprise that you're back at it again! 💛💛💛
Lewann, no words can articulate how happy I am to see you here, hence all the emojis ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🖤🤍🩷🩵🩶🪵🌲⛰️🦅 big love and big hugs to you!