First off, I did not plan for February to turn around and remind me of everything that I love. It just happened. I did notice the not-so-subtle energy shift in late January and I do love the energy of Imbolc.
Of what? Of Imbolc, it is the Celtic honoring of the halfway point between the winter and spring solstice (we have a lovely conversation this upcoming week about the turn of the wheel, biodynamics, and Celtic traditions, subscribe so you don't forget). February 1st is when it’s celebrated across then Gregorian calendar in Ireland, and St. Brigid is the steward of hearth, home, poetry, writing, midwifery, and black-smithing. As the stirrings of the Northern hemisphere turn, it is Brigid who guides the flame.
I happened to book myself here for a night on Imbolc at The Bookhouse Hotel in Kennet Square.
The reverence for books and whimsy is like a magical oasis for a book-lover, and the beds are really comfortable. Stephanie and Matt Olenik knew what they were doing when they set out to turn this old bookstore into a bibiliophile’s destination location. The attention to detail translates to guests feeling held and claw-footed baths also help. Of course, you don’t have to be a writer, or a reader and you will love it just the same here because is is built to be enjoyed.
However, if you are a book-over. If you have withstood the criticism that books are going away. If you have known that a kindle is not the same as the written page, then this is a space for you.
Why the long commercial? One, because it is my nature to share what I love, and two, it is our nature to love what we love. This place along with some very notable ancestral winks reminded me of that. Let me explain. When I walked up the stairs to my room’s sitting room, and saw the well placed chairs and books, and streaming in light — I gasped out and said, “They even have a dog,”
Something about the simplicity of all the detail, started a flashback in my mind of books. My whole life was surrounded my books. When childhood was a little topsy-turvy, I had books. Sometimes I’d tuck my book into my back, climb my grandparents tree to read. There are so many photos of me, in glasses with a stuffed animal and a Nancy Drew or Ramona Quimbly. Later it would be Judy Blume, and still later James Joyce. Books have lined my life.
What about you? What lines your life?
I recently set out a very clear prayer for clarity. Shortly after, I was awarded a consultation by a brilliant marketer to look through and over my profile. She recommended to me, a niche that would be very lucrative, and as she spoke my heart sank into my feet.
Later that day I would have 3 more unplanned phone-calls. They were like an eye-exam from life. Each one was closer and closer to what actually lit me up. By the end of the day, sitting with my cup of tea, I realized the very epic power of my own choice and how I had been understandably operating from what should work and happen, rather than digging deeper than deep into what was could happen should I choose to believe.
It is timely here to mention that it seems to me sometimes you go through periods of life that are hard and unrelenting and the goal is to do the best you can. We are not always in a rose-blooming phase, but we are forever in a cycle of soil building even when the act is to surrender to winter’s fallow ground.
48 hours after this realization I am here, at The Bookhouse Hotel. If books were no longer necessary as so many people are saying, why are people flocking here? Because some us love books, and that is enough of answer. That to say, don’t let the world tell you what you love doesn’t have a place. It does. It’s within you.
Sitting on the loveseat last night, I started to imagine books that would be born here. Authors that would pop on the kettle, and sit in silence until the muse came and tapped their shoulder, perhaps whispering a story, or a character, or filling the writer’s head with a book title and poof another book would be born. It would be born in the walls of place where the word has a sanctuary. This is true in nature as well. For the alchemy of observation is human creativity, whether through word, paint, dance or song. We are here to love life back.
I am purposefully catching these phrases, here in the hunter green sitting room, overlooking the side-streets with a perfected latte, so that when it comes time for me to leave, I will have written this note to you, and to me, to remember what is possible and to hold space for it in the mundane. That is how it works you know. You go to the top of the mountain and you bring that fire home and tend it.
We are not separate from what we create — a cause for celebration and responsibility. - Rebirth The Art of Letting Go & Letting Life Lead 📚
What to do now?
📝 You’re invited this Monday February 5th 12 - 12:30pm EST to talk about surrendering shoulds. Bring a pencil and paper. Register here
🌎Also, if you know it is time to write, but you really just need to get away — take me with you. Kinda. I am now offering 2 spaces a month to book me as your getaway-muse for Zoom support so that while you tucked into the mountains, looking over a lake, or snuggle into a cozy nook, you can still thwart blocks and confirm your hunches with a trusted word-loving friend. It starts with a free connection call.
IRL: My marketing bestie (two-time published author)
and I will be at Coterie Commons in Doylestown (another gorgeous space for community and creativity) teaching a Lunch & Learn on everything you need to know about writing a book. Come with questions, leave inspired! But first: Registration is a must even though it is free.Sharing is caring! The world needs us all focusing now what we love because no one else was designed to do it but YOU!