This being the week of my book launch (though it will be over by the time this lands in your Inbox) I’m finding it hard to concentrate on anything other than the event itself, and this includes writing my newsletter here. So, please forgive me for today’s shortened version. I intend to be back to normal next week, hopefully with some photos from the launch.
There will always be times in our lives, when we must give ourselves over entirely to what’s happening out there in the world, to life itself, and to the life of others. To things not of our own choosing. This is surely a good thing. To me, a life composed entirely of the mind, or only of our own wants and concerns, ultimately means, a life that is disconnected, a lonely and less meaningful life.
Having said this I believe we all need to be selfish at times, selfishness is a healthy response to life’s demands, a matter of self-care. For someone who spent her childhood attending to the needs of others, self-care was a hard learned lesson, truth be told it’s one I’m still learning.
Something I’ve learned, is at times like these - book launches for instance - I need to take special care. Events where I’m at the centre of something are a trigger for me. Such occasions were often sabotaged by my mother, who preferred to be the one in the limelight. I quickly learned that out of the limelight, in the shade, was the safe place for me and I sometimes wonder what on earth I’m doing in the light. Then I remember Marianne Williamson’s message
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.
Coming into the light with me at the launch is someone I admire greatly. She’s feisty, not afraid to speak her mind, not afraid of the light, not afraid to give up everything to grow flowers, and a brilliant writer, Caroline Beck. If you haven’t read her Substack - DIRT - you should. Every time I read the next instalment I see it between covers. It’s a powerful, beautifully written story.
In advance - a huge thank you to all of my family and friends who came into the light with me on Wednesday night - your support means everything.
In these rather rainy, grey days, I leave you with a beautiful poem about light from a great poet…
Ode to Enchanted Light - Pablo Neruda
Under the trees light
has dropped from the top of the sky,
light
like a green
latticework of branches,
shining
on every leaf,
drifting down like clean
white sand.
A cicada sends
its sawing song
high into the empty air.
The world is
a glass overflowing
with water.
Thanks for reading
Avril x
Thanks Avril - I thoroughly enjoyed last night. I'd forgotten how enjoyable and invigorating chairing book events are as it's been a while. And we're SO lucky to have Collected Books in Durham. Usually if I call into Waterstones I see very little that really ignites my enthusiasm, but last night before your event, I saw at least a dozen intriguing books on their shelves that I wanted to dive into. I need a return visit soon.