Notes from the Heart (Email Newsletter, January 19, 2020)
(950 words)
Hello sweet friends,
I'm writing to you from a Saturday afternoon in mid-January, where the light is ever so perceptibly beginning to return.
I noticed it two days ago. Morning light came a little sooner and evening arrived a little later. The thin snow melted and something stirred in of me--like a seed roused beneath the soil.
I spent late December and early January basically burrowing. Resting, reading, journaling, and processing. It's true, the darkest month is a kind of chrysalis. I could feel in my body as old patterns turned into a sort of formless goo--like a caterpillar does--before anything new can begin to form.
In December, I made a surprise holiday gift for Lucia's print subscribers. It's a zine called Winter Light. Painting the dozens of magenta and rose watercolor postcards to tuck inside each gift gave my mind something to focus on while the old patterns metaphorically melted.
Resting in the unknown is the part of every transformation that feels so scary. I look for ways to resist. I only seem able to surrender to change after I've fought for stasis, and inevitably lost. I'm getting better, though, with every year that passes.
One thing I've learned is that my attention is powerful.
What I focus on flourishes. Just like my body reflects the choices I make about food, so my mind reflects the choices I make about what to read, listen to, watch, scroll through, and see.
I've been finding ways to overcome addiction to iPhone dopamine hits. Social media pings and fresh news headlines (hypervigilance, anyone?) all create little chemical reward pathways that inevitably lead me down a spiral of scrolling and absorbing way more random information than any human brain can healthily process.
“Our senses are delicate. So are our brains.”
Years ago, I deleted Facebook from my phone. Last summer, I deleted Twitter too.
This winter, I've deleted mobile news apps! All of them. The New York Times, The Washington Post, NPR, and the Apple News button, gone. I still subscribe to these papers and listen to the radio (hooray for excellent journalism) but no longer read them on my phone. This shift--deleting mobile news apps--has resulted in me spending the last few weeks reading actual books in the evening. I can feel my brain growing.
I have an enriching new goal too: 52 books in 52 weeks. I am also journaling more than ever.
All the journaling this month resulted in a new word for 2020, and I'm excited about it.
My word is golden.
Golden, to me, is a state of being that is light-hearted, aware, reflective, warm and healthy. Like the air at sunset, or the way I feel walking home after coffee with a magic person. Golden is how it feels to sit around a candlelit table with fascinating people and listen to them share stories.
Choosing this word might seem (at first) to be passive or simply hopeful (as opposed to inspiring action). But I see "golden" as a state of being I have the ability to manifest at any time, if only I remember.
“Golden is presence amidst the fray. Golden is what is holy and beautiful in the here and now. Any time we focus our attention on this, we are golden too.”
Four other words also showed up and would not leave me alone, so I kept them:
1. Soften (I want to do this with my thoughts. Especially when I interact with those I love most.)
2. Prosper (Last year one of my words was "earn" and I did. This year I'd like to prosper.)
3. Write (I am working on a book and this feels important.)
4. Flower (More of these in my life and home, please! Also the verb form, unfolding into fullness)
Otherwise, right now I am mainly choosing seeds I wish to plant this year.
2020 looks promising, and I've spent the past week with not one but TWO new planners (Eule and Dreambook). I love them both. Eule is helping me organize my social media and online world for Lucia. Dreambook is helping me with dreaming and scheming.
I am still working on an in-depth photography course for heart-centered entrepreneurs. I want every woman whose work involves healing our world through her artistry and heart to be able to capture and share the kind of photographs that match her vision and brand.
I'm also turning over an idea for a Lucia retreat for creative women, which I've been wanting to do for years now. I am very much in the "dreaming up" stage today, but it feels really good. I'm dreaming about Provence in September or October. Nothing is set in stone. Where would you like to go?
I hope January and February bring you so much winter love that you can wrap yourself in it, like a huge cashmere scarf around your body.
Breathe deep, keep writing, creating, healing, inspiring, and giving voice to your heart. Care for yourself. You are a golden gift to this world.
All my love,
Laura
P.S. This week, I am reading The Witches are Coming by Lindy West. Her voice is powerful, hilarious, intelligent and unapologetically honest. I alternate between howling with laughter and nearly crying at the hard truths she so artfully drops. "So fine, if you insist. This is a witch hunt. We're witches, and we're hunting you."
P.P.S. Lately I've been loving this soft channel playing in the background while I work: Atmospheric Piano.
P.P.P.S. To subscribe to Lucia's print volumes, visit our website, 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.