Notes from the Heart (Email Newsletter, March 17, 2019)
On the afternoon of my forty-fourth birthday, I ran outside to catch the sky.
Amanda had texted to tell me it was a gorgeous day for a birthday. She wrote, “The sky!”
It had been a gorgeous day.
I woke early to a dusting of snow, and came out of the shower to find my love making breakfast. He presented me with a gift to unwrap. It was a puffy black coat, one I think he has wanted me to have for a while now. I love it. It is soft and super fluffy and has built-in hand warmer sleeves with little slits for my thumbs. It is the warmest coat I’ve ever owned and I have barely taken it off.
Birthdays are usually a mixed bag for me, maybe it’s a highly-sensitive person thing? I want to take in all of the moments and record them like a movie in my mind, but on a big screen unfolding in real time—the story of my life in three dimensions and technicolor. Each minute matters and feels like it must be filled with beauty and meaning. It’s a tall order, I know (haha).
I become overstimulated easily though, and also need quiet time by myself to process grand experiences, like birthdays. After a luxurious morning being loved on and receiving sweet messages, I spent a few hours that afternoon alone. I had a video-conference to attend for work, and then I wanted to journal, take a bath, and touch in with my heart before going out to celebrate and devour Italian food.
But when my girlfriend’s text message came, I looked out my window and realized I was missing the birthday sunset. The sky was spectacularly soft and full of awe-inspiring changing light—it looked just the way I want 44 to feel.
Forty-four is such a gorgeously round number, isn’t it? It is the last circle around the sun of our “early” forties. Four-plus-four adds up to eight, which is a heavenly number, too.
A desperate feeling swelled in my heart as I looked at the sky and realized what I had nearly missed. I threw on my new puffy coat, clutched my camera, and ran to the waterfront. As I raced, the cerulean-rose sky above me shifted and changed so fast, too fast. I cried.
It turned out there was plenty of time, though, once I allowed myself to arrive. Time. There is always enough time. I caught the sky.
The beach was empty. I placed one hand on my heart and closed my eyes. I turned 44 listening to the waves and the sounds of the birds. I said thank you. I promised I would be brave. I promised I would keep seeking light and creating beauty. I promised I would listen, and use my voice to encourage others.
My birthday wish is for each of you to enjoy a softer year, filled with creative inspiration and enough time tend to your heart and do the work you were born for. Time. There is always enough time.
P.S. Speaking of light, last year a good friend asked if I'd consider offering an online photography course. I loved the idea. I floated it on Instagram last summer, and several of you said “yes please!” Now I am working on an intimate e-course (I think introverted creatives will love this). It blends an exploration of photography, intuition, and light. Emails and lessons from yours truly. I realized I know a TON about photography, and I'm excited to teach soft skills and share my secret tricks you can use (with any camera) to create beauty and capture images that will reflect your vision, heart, business, spirit, blog, brand... you. Stay tuned.
P.P.S. My new favorite artists, Beautiful Chorus, are playing in the background of most of my creative endeavors right now. I might be addicted to their voices, but if so I think this is the healthiest addiction I’ve ever had. Because 4+4 = 8, here are eight of their heavenly songs: Eight Songs by Beautiful Chorus.
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.