Friday Dispatch: Seedlings & Stars

So many miracles

Friday greetings,

I’m writing to you from the sunporch of our new home. As I poured my coffee in our tiny kitchen this morning and glanced out the window, I realized how instinctive it is for me to locate “east” no matter where I go. I mean, maybe it’s a given – the sun rises, right?

This is an ancient, primal human need, to be oriented, to find our place amid the stars. As if to confirm: OK, the sun is doing its thing and I am here on the earth. My body is doing its thing, which is to say breathing and so many other miracles every minute that I don’t even have to think about. (Seriously wow.) Gravity is doing its thing. (Another wow.) The clouds are drifting and the Earth is indeed turning. (WOW.) The birds are doing their thing, chirping and dive-bombing, swooping and landing. The breeze is doing its thing; rustling leaves and the wind chimes that look so pretty in the backyard. The dog is doing her thing (snoring, you guessed it). The houseplants look happy in their new digs. And this is the view from here, from this particular spot on the planet, at this exact moment. Hello, Longmeadow.

We are almost all the way unpacked. By the end of the weekend, we should have every box broken down. I am no small amount amazed at how at home I feel already.

Things happen when they happen, not a minute too soon or too late. (Of course faith waxes and wanes. But so does the moon, so does the moon.)

Planting seedlings and new beginnings are always acts of faith. Not everything will grow and thrive. Disappointment and reorienting are inevitable. (Exhibit A: Our first garden attempt! Second attempt to commence soon.) Some things will not be what you expected. And – get this – others will be even better than you imagined.

Nearly 10 years ago, I created a new job title: Promptress. One of the biggest gifts of this vocation is that I get to create and facilitate spaces for works in progress – seedlings that deserve nurturing, time, and care before they are ready to be transplanted into the bigger world (if at all, I might add, as not everything has to become something else).

One of the groups I’ve led for years is called Jewels on the Path. Its purpose is to provide gentle accountability, fierce encouragement and support, and a place to show up, share new writing, and deepen one’s writing practice and/or other creative goals in community.

Over the years, these groups have been, to quote my Grammy (may she rest in peace), a star in the crown of my rejoicing.

Last fall, shortly after October 7, I decided to offer a variation on this group, Jewish Jewels on the Path. For the first time, a group of Jewish writers convened both to write and to be in community at a time when many of us are, frankly, reeling.

The experience was deeply meaningful. And the writing? Well, as with every session, the writing floored me. So when I got word (no pun intended) recently that three members of the fall cohort had newly published pieces, pieces we had had the privilege of reading in draft form last fall, you can be sure I cheered!

I’m so delighted to share them here.

From the BRAINS issue of the literary journal Dorothy Parker's Ashes:

• Such a Good Brain by Karen Paul

• The Hole in My Head by Susan Spector

And in Hippocampus Magazine, an online creative nonfiction magazine:

• Profile of author Jeannine Ouellette by Melissa Greenwood

Now, if you’d like, set a timer for 10 minutes and write without stopping. No editing, no deleting, no ruminating. Just start and keep going.

Tell me about the seedlings you’re planting. Tell me about the stars in your crown.

Shabbat Shalom and love,

Jena

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