Start There
During a goal setting session with a friend, I shared self-disappointment.
“With everything going on, I regret that I haven’t written a piece in so long. I just don’t know where to begin.”
“Why don’t you start there?” she said.
“Start with my disappointment and sadness?”
“Yeah, and how you’re not sure where to kick it off,” my friend encouraged. “If nothing else, it will be a good free write.”
Oh Claire Campbell, you are so wise.
Brave Tutu’s essence is to shine the light on small moments of significance—to uncover their rawness, wonder, beauty and even grief. However, for months I’ve felt stalled out. With added pressure, I wanted the January piece to serve as a mighty capstone of the last year and offer solid hope moving forward. But after a mind mushed from 2020 and the deadly insurrection at the Capitol, picking up the pen to dive into this space felt like writing on college-ruled paper with a magic marker. Impossible.
So, I start with not knowing where to start.
Were there plenty of 2020 moments to choose from? Yes. Too many. The moments feel less like treasures glistening in the grass and more like a pile of coal that sat dark— needing to be put in the fire.
I want to light up the good and even the bad of last year and 2021. I want to illuminate, be wise and insightful and offer hope. NBD.
But all I can do at this moment is share how worn down I feel in this surreal season.
I’m exhausted emotionally. So tired of worrying daily about the rising rates of infection and death. I feel like I’ve been strapped into a roller coaster against my will. Such highs of putting out my first book* paired with true grief over not seeing that release happen as I’d dreamed.
In one 24-hour period:
my sister delivered my beautiful new nephew
my book launch took place with The Writing Barn
my father was in the ICU and had to have a risky spinal surgery
another family member continued, unreachable, down an unhealthy path.
That life tornado seems indicative of what I call the “new roaring 20s.” Babies continue to be born; light exists. Meanwhile, overwhelming pieces of political divide, a strong need for racial justice and a deadly virus tap tap tap on the window like a tree in a storm. Unrelenting. *Glass breaking*
When the surges started in the fall, we had to cancel yet another trip for me to meet my nephew and see my twin on our birthday. After months of isolation, in sad surrender, I let my guard down. I chose to share an indoor meal with two special people. Days later, one of them developed a fever. Of course, I followed regulations and got tested and the results came back positive for Covid-19. Months later, after a relatively minor case, I still suffer from internment exhaustion and a slight burning in my lungs**.
Big Picture: what I most want is for people to read this and, hopefully, know they are not alone and perhaps feel seen on this forced roller coaster. What are your highs and lows? Perhaps acknowledging them will bring comfort and help us move forward.
Let's start the new year there.
Remember,
Your Brave Tutu (You’re brave, too-too!)
-Take courage in delight. Discover power in small moments.
P.S. I am planning special Galentines events surrounding my book, Alexandra and the Awful, Awkward, No Fun, Truly Bad Dates: A Picture Book Parody for Adults, if you want to get a signed copy for you or your favorite Galentine, I’m buying and sending out signed copies for a limited time. Details here.
**DISCLAIMER: I’m not writing any of this for pity. If anything, I feel strange sharing as I know I write this from a place of privilege. For starters, I still have a wonderful job with insurance. To go deeper, watching rioters fly confederate flags at the Capitol attack made me sick—but I acknowledge that I can’t imagine how my friends of color feel. I only know I’ll continue to do necessary self-examination, work to be an anti-racist and share my support of Black Lives Matter. Feel free to read more of my thoughts on Open Cupboards.
