Sunday, April 9, 2017 - Daily Notes, From the Editor
Whoa, April is intense. Burgeoning. This thing we call Spring is aptly named. To the untrained eye, new growth appears suddenly. But if you have been paying attention you know: this all started long ago.
In March, I turned 42.
Forty-two is the age I spent my thirties looking to for wisdom, comfort, and answers. In some alternate universe right now, a 35-year-old me is writing a letter. She is looking for permission to follow her heart; to trust the inexplicable things she senses deeply that make no sense on the surface yet; to let go of what she imagines her family, her culture, and her ego want from her so that she may touch the shimmering thread she believes is truth and stay with it all the way through.
Through to where? This sharp question brings her out of calm reverie, brusquely depositing her back in the land of expectations; a place some call reality, but others know is only one reflection, one perspective, one part of the mirage. She is looking for reassurance. She wishes to feel whole. So she writes to me, "Dear 42-Year-Old Laura,".
Sunday morning coffee glides past my lips as I pause and look at the page, my handwriting, the black ink. I have volumes of journals just like this one, filled with my familiar scrawl. So many of her questions live on my bookshelves now; an entire decade of call and response.
She asked one question again and again: "Will we be together, in the end? Please, give me the truth." Her heart was aching, and all she knew how to imagine then was a romantic reunion to relieve it.
The responses were not what she expected. True answers are often like that. They came forth with quiet confidence though, and a touch of mystery, a warmth my 35-year-old self could feel and rest in. "It's not the reunion that matters, my sweet. What makes you, at 42, feel grounded, strong, and deeply loved, is what you are doing right now: learning how to hold yourself. This is important work. I know it's hard. I am grateful to you for doing it. Keep listening to your heart. You can trust what you feel there. It is real."
Like the cherry and magnolia blossoms that came a little later this year, love blooms again when it is time. There is a season for everything under the sun.
Here in the midst of my forty-second spring, it is a time of wild transition. It feels as if someone (me?) has taken the pieces that make up my life and tossed them up in the air with a spacious laugh, chanting "change, change, grow, grow," as they fall back down to earth. There is no way to know exactly where they will land.
How is April stirring you? We are certainly in it, aren't we? The intensity of spring is real. It is a good month to breathe deeply, touch earth often, watch blooms unfold, and know: this all started long ago.
May your April unfold with beauty. Sending so much love.
Thank you for being here.
Laura Lowery is the founder, editor and publisher of Lucia. She does her best to lead a creative life. Whether triumphant or stumbling, Laura shares daily notes (that are often weekly) here on luciajournal, including stories, behind-the-scenes happenings, little doses of inspiration, and large quantities of curiosity and heart. She is pleased to meet you.