I’m writing this like a postcard
to you all, a Hello from my kitchen table on a sunny spring morning full of birdsong. Sharing a few thoughts and inviting you to stay in touch. On the front of the postcard: bright spring flowers, blue sky, billowy clouds hovering over Mt. Rainier, shining like a jewel. Greetings from Queen Anne!
How are you?
Kicking off this new tradition in May feels right. Days brimming with exuberant life and possibility, with still an occasional thread of winter chill in the shadows like a memory. Here we are, in the fullness of it all; past, present and the growing future all on display. A perfect time to step into a new season together while holding what’s been.
One thing on my mind in this new season is how our Self Space community can help nourish each of us so we’re sustained and enriched in a profession where burnout is a real risk. What supports and sparks you? What helps you stay curious and engaged, especially when the work feels difficult? How do you get rest and connection? For me, daily moments of wonder are essential, my multivitamin of choice. Another word for it is delight. For me, this includes poetry, walking, and trying to notice what’s here. Poets help me with this. Mary Oliver wrote, “To pay attention/this is our endless and proper work,” and I agree. Ross Gay wrote a radiant book called The Book of Delights chronicling his year-long practice of recording daily small instances of delight and simple joy as acts of healing and resistance.
Last week, I had a moment of ordinary wonder that accompanied and helped me, particularly in sessions with clients suffering intense grief. One morning before work, I walked to my car and found it covered in pink and white blossoms, every surface gloriously adorned. It sat on the street like a Mardi Gras float, or a giant birthday cake festooned with frosting flowers, or the chariot of a fairy queen. It made my regular car beautiful, magical! I looked around for someone to share it with, but the street was empty. I got in and peered through the bedazzled windshield at slivers of sky. I felt blessed by some soft magic. Did you ever lie on the ground as a kid and stare at clouds, naming their shapes? I loved (still love) doing that, feeling sun and breeze across my face, warm grass beneath me, time slowing down. I felt that kind of dreamy peace while sitting in my car that morning. As I drove, blossoms spilled and tumbled onto the street like confetti. My first session of the day was with a client whose grief can be raw, sharp, and powerful. Sometimes I have felt helpless and overwhelmed in our sessions, especially when her experiences stir my own grief and loss. That morning was different. Those blossoms had been a balm that soothed and lightened my heart and mind, helping me greet her rage and sadness with fresh tenderness and a calmer, more open attention. Throughout the week, the image of the pink and white petals, and the feelings they brought, kept me company. A reminder to practice daily wonder and delight as part of caring for myself and my clients.
Wishing you all moments of wonder and delight. I’m looking forward to hearing what’s supporting and stirring you these days.
-Emily