Letters Home 💌 #14

Writing from: Banff, Alberta

Dear Ones —

Alignment and authenticity. Those are the two themes coming up for me this month amidst a lot of stretching and pulling. Our young family has some challenges with a lot of overdue photo-related work trips (thanks, COVID), which means I’m flying solo a lot. OK, let’s clarify: I’m not the one actually flying. While Paul’s in places like Mongolia, Greenland, Antarctica, and Bhutan (working hard, mind you! 😉), the girls and I have our own little thing going. Mostly, it goes well; the girls are growing more mature and adaptable. But it’s required me to dig pretty deep sometimes, and make sure that what’s on my plate aligns with my energy levels.

More stretching: as my book publication date approaches (September 26, 2022!) I’m feeling pulled out of my comfort zone. Lights to Guide Me Home is an offering I’m making to this world that is vulnerable and freeing, which is why I see a purpose in putting my heart on the page. I wouldn’t have devoted hundreds of hours and 312 pages to a story that I didn’t feel would liberate me or relieve a burden — the weight of the expectations I wrote about in the book, especially those I held for myself.

And let’s be honest, many of the stories are amusing, adventurous, or funny (or some combination thereof!) It was a pleasure to write and I hope it will be an entertaining read for others. I’ve actually missed working on the book since I handed in my final edits.

Then, yesterday, I got an inquiry from a national magazine with regards to their travel section and I was simultaneously leaping with excitement and shrinking with apprehension.

It’s so freakin’ incredible.

Have you ever felt like you were on the verge of something life-changing but you don’t actually know what it is?

Something that puts a spring in your step and simultaneously makes you want to slide into obscurity?

What do we do with this paradox?