The long road to bloom

Today’s almost-daily dispatch comes to you from the foggy banks of the Willapa River. I am tucked away in a quaint, quiet coffee shop between gigs.

In this moment, I can’t quite believe this is my life. I feel very “writerly” typing away on my trusty Chromebook, a little ceramic rabbit watching over a stack of old books nearby. I’m sipping a cappuccino and preparing to nibble on a breakfast sammy wrapped in words—how fitting. The mist is slowly burning off at the sun’s insistence, and the taps of my keyboard keep time to the soft jazz playing in the background.

I’ve just finished a few Walmart Spark deliveries, and I have some time before I clock in as a care provider for an aging woman who is still full of piss and vinegar, even as her body betrays her. Every interaction with K reminds me that time is a thief. Watching her navigate a world that is shrinking reminds me of a book—more than a book, a mentor—that guided my life to this very place and time.

Sarah Ban Breathnach first appeared on The Oprah Winfrey Show on March 21st, 1996. Sarah authored the book Simple Abundance: A Daybook of Comfort and Joy. This daily guide provided a footprint for a life well lived, specifically for women with an artistic soul. I could not wait to get my hands on this tome, and it holds a place of reverence on my bookshelf today, thirty years later.

I realize now that I am finally taking myself on what Sarah called a “Creative Excursion.” In her February 1st passage, Sarah (borrowing the “Artist Date” concept from Julia Cameron) describes this as a weekly block of time set aside to be alone—a spiritual rendezvous to nurture the soul.

Back in 1996, I was a young mom struggling to keep my head above water. To me, the idea of a “date with myself” felt like a luxury for someone else’s life. My husband was of the mindset that he was “babysitting” if I left him alone with the kids to grocery shop; there was no way I was going to be able to take myself on a date.

It took thirty years for those seeds to sprout, but here I am. No kids, no partners, no chores—just me, my thoughts, and this keyboard. Time may be a thief that steals our youth, but K is teaching me that it doesn’t have to steal our joy or the opportunity to water the seeds planted so long ago.

Have you ever discovered a piece of advice that took decades to finally put into practice?