| Dear friends, I’m grateful that you’ve opened this newsletter. I realize it may be coming into homes that span a wide range of emotions due to the Coronavirus and quarantine. For those of us who, to this point, have been blessed with good health and continued income, the worst we’ve dealt with is not being able to move about as we normally would. Compared with how devastating a time it’s been for many due to sickness, death of loved ones, job & income loss, and stress, not being able “go somewhere” doesn’t merit a complaint. And for all those still out there who are working to keep the rest of us healthy, safe, fed, still getting our mail & packages–there are no words to thank you enough … but we can begin with a few words of thanks whenever we see you. I’m sure we’ve all felt some emotional stress due to the uncertainty of not knowing how long this will last. But remember … better days are ahead; we will get to the other side of the Coronavirus. I’m not someone who counts patience as my best virtue, so the wait isn’t easy. But I’ve found that this experience is teaching me to be more patient, largely because anything I may feel impatient about pales in comparison to the hardships so many are facing. So I’ve discovered greater patience.  (Photo Credit: by Noble Mitchell on Unsplash) Over the past four weeks I’ve made some other discoveries. Thought I’d share a few: My 93-year-old mom loves to FaceTime! My mom lives in Scottsdale, AZ, near my sister. She turns on her iPad, taps on the videocamera icon, taps the name of one of us kids or grandkids, and there we are … face to face. A few things have been tapped by accident–like “flip” and “mute”–and sometimes we just see her forehead, but mostly we see one another and feel connected in one of the few ways we can right now. I’m not as fit as I thought I was. Most afternoons I set out on a walk around our neighborhood. I’ll call down to my husband, Rick (working at a table in our basement) and say, “I’m going for my walk around the block,” only half of which is relaxing. The other half is uphill and unforgiving on legs and lungs short on stamina. I consider myself fairly fit, but still get a somewhat winded on the uphill side. I’m working on it. My dog, Enzo, has a 1-gallon bladder. I like taking Enzo on my walks. It gives me an excuse to stop along the uphill side for a few seconds–he does his business and I catch my breath. But, of course, by the time we’ve gotten to the uphill side, I’ve already had to stop at least a dozen times for him to “go.” Where does it all come from? It’s such a mystery to me. And speaking of dogs: I think one of our other dogs, Toby, is fitter than I am. That dog, despite his short, stubby legs, would run after a tennis ball in our backyard from morning til night if we had the time and energy to toss it all day. And he’s quite athletic. Over-the-shoulder catch — no problem. Leaping grab — “Come on, mom, challenge me!” Yes, he’s a bit of a show-off, too. I Love New York! Actually, that I love NY isn’t a discovery. What I’ve discovered is how much I miss it. Though I’ve lived in PA since age 6, I was born in Brooklyn. My daughter now lives and works in NYC, and I had gotten used to taking the train in for a few days every couple of months. I love the energy of the city, cultural diversity, bookstores (the Strand!), stationery shops, coffee shops. Can’t wait to get back! I can make a pretty respectable Americano with my moka pot. If you’re not familiar with the moka pot — you use it to brew espresso. 1/3 cup of espresso, 2/3 cup of boiling water, a little creamer, pack of stevia, and I’m set. But don’t you worry, Starbucks … I’ll be back when you reopen. 🙂 I love washing my hands. Never thought such a simple act would make me feel like I’m contributing to society. But I’m finding myself so purposeful about it now — 20 seconds, sing the ABC’s. Who knew it could be so much fun? I’m a bit of a cooking control freak. Early on in the quarantine I said to Rick: How about we take turns cooking dinner? Good guy that he is, he readily agreed. But every time he offers to make something — spaghetti, meat loaf, tacos — I feel something tighten inside. Then I’ll say, “Why don’t we get take-out,” or I’ll offer to cook instead. I’m not proud of any of this. I have to let go. I’m trying. Sorry honey! (PS–Rick’s making spaghetti tonight … really.) Part of me is going to miss this slower & simpler life once things get back to normal … and all of me realizes how blessed I am to be able to say that. Parents with kids at home 24/7 (especially those who are homeschooling), all those on the front lines battling the Coronavirus, everyone still out there working to keep shelves stocked, check-out lines moving, and grocery & takeout orders filled … I know your lives are neither slower or simpler right now. You’re probably busier than you’ve ever been, or at least in a very long time. You all have my utmost respect and gratitude. If you’re financially able, let’s continue to support the independent professionals who provide us with services: hair stylists, dog groomers, cleaning services, various kinds of lesson instructors, etc. I’ll never be able to name them all. If we support them now, they’ll be able to reopen later. Lots of love and prayers to each of you. Hang in there … we’re going to get through this!!! Tess  (Photo Credit: by Anton Unsplash)  |
Category: Community
The Blessing of One, The Riches of Two
Grand Rapids, Michigan in the summertime is a lovely place. I know this because I spent a wonderful three days there this past August. At the time, I was halfway through a six-month book proposal writing course and was in Grand Rapids to meet with seven other writers in the group and our instructor, Chad Allen.
As a writer, blogger, speaker, and former acquisitions editor with over twenty years in the publishing industry, Chad has a wealth of knowledge and insight into writing and publishing. Even better, he’s one of the kindest and most modest people I’ve come to know.
(True story: I first heard about Chad several years ago … I came across his name on the internet, along with his bio and tips on writing a book proposal. Thought to myself: What I wouldn’t give to work with someone like that! Fast forward to last Fall when I heard Chad being interviewed on a podcast. I learned that he had started his own book coaching business, then I subscribed to his blog and signed onto one of his courses. In April 2019, I was accepted into his book proposal writing program. I think when something’s meant to be, God has a way of getting us there.)
In Grand Rapids, our merry and passionate group of writers experienced a bit of a transformation—from writers who feel they have a book inside of them, to writers who feel they must get their books written and out into the world. Not because of an ego-driven need to be published, but because of a sincere desire to find and help that one person (although I’m sure a publisher would prefer many more than that) who needs the message our book provides.
Within our small group of writers, we have helped one another believe that we can each do this—make a difference in the world through the words we write. We have supported and championed one another, and now, three months after gathering in Grand Rapids, we are each close to having a finished book proposal. One person from our group is already working with a publisher.
There’s still much work ahead for us all. For me, that includes completing a manuscript. But thanks to Chad and the Grand Rapids Eight, I’m about to scale the book proposal writing mountain, which not long ago felt too tall to climb. It’s a fitting time of year to be thankful for that.
The benefits of being in this community of writers are so clear to me. Anyone who’s a part of a supportive community knows the feeling—of being understood, of being able to leave so much unspoken (but, often, we say it anyway because it’s comforting to know others feel the same way), of hearing someone say, as we’ve constantly heard from Chad, “every step matters.”
It all got me thinking.
It got me thinking about how incredibly fortunate I am to be part of a community … to receive the support in my endeavors of, not just one, but many individuals.
To have the strong, undying support of even one person in anything we do is a blessing. Any more than that is an embarrassment of riches. Which leads me to all of you.
When I started my email newsletter in January of this year, there were some people who didn’t have a choice as to whether they would be added to my newsletter mailing list; my husband, kids, mother, sister, brother, and in-laws were my first “subscribers.” Then I sent out a batch of invitations to friends and more family to sign up. Before long, I had twenty-five, fifty, then seventy-five subscribers. My list of subscribers (the glorious group of all of you) has more than doubled—to just over two hundred—in the past six months. The list continues to grow.
I say that, not with a swelled head, but, with a heart humbled by your generosity—of support, spirit, time, comments … simply your graciousness in allowing me to drop into your inbox every two weeks and share my thoughts and stories. To any writer, including me, that’s huge; it truly means the world.
Writing is typically a solitary undertaking. Even when writing in Starbucks or some other coffee shop, I’m in my own little world, wearing earbuds and hunkered down over my notebook and laptop.
As I write, I am alone with my words, but motivated by a message I wish to share.
As I write this newsletter, I think of you.
As I write, you are with me.
I couldn’t be more thankful.
My wish for each of you this Thanksgiving—especially those who are grieving, or anyone who’s feeling lonely or a bit short of hope—is a sense of peace and of being loved. My hope is that you find both here.
(Photo by Mikhail Pavstyuk on Unsplash)
Thank you for reading my blog! Please feel free to share it with family and friends.
Tess
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