Waiting to bloom
When we write through fresh wounds, the most faithful choice we can make may be to keep those words between us and God.
Welcome to Nourish, a free monthly(ish) newsletter to help you be kinder to yourself and others. I'm Erin Strybis, a writer, mama, bookworm and believer. In your April 2024 issue: an exercise to practice presence, three resources for cultivating closeness and my favorite new album.
Dear reader,
The peony bush I planted last summer has sprouted. The plant that fried due to inconsistent watering and heavy sun, the plant I assumed was dead and gone, now grows proud and greenish-red out of the gray dirt. Planting this bush was my effort to right a past wrong: seven years ago, as a first time homeowner, I made the mistake of removing the backyard peony bushes, replacing them with sod.
A few years after I removed our peonies, I admired a perfect magenta bloom growing in my neighbor's yard. My cheeks reddened. I realized I’d destroyed a gorgeous bush in an effort to simplify our backyard. I was devastated.
It’s worth noting that peonies rarely bloom the first season you plant them; it can take up to three summers to see your first flower. Our scrappy little peony has only one summer under her belt, and it’s unlikely that we have two summers left at this home. After a decade in Chicago, we have our sights set on the suburbs. My husband and I want to move our family closer to my folks and brother’s family. We’ve started a tentative search that I suspect will move slowly given the current housing market.
Will we be in this home long enough for me to witness our own blooming peony? Only time will tell.
Likewise, my writing career is moving slower than I expected. I hoped to make big moves this year — to pitch new publications, make more art than before and push my writing to new levels. I wanted to bloom, big and bold. Instead, family circumstances required me to pull back from public writing. 2024 is turning out to be a year of simplicity and restraint.
Lately, I’ve been writing more in private than in public. I made a goal to journal every day in April, and thus far, I’ve journaled 19 days. I’ve also shaped half a dozen poems, a short story and song lyrics. Because I know these works are just for me, the pressure is off and the words flow. I wonder if I’ll ever share some with you, dear reader.
Only time will tell.
I set down my pen and admire the white flowers decking the tree outside our bay window. A gentle breeze shakes the branches and scatters petals across our recently mown lawn. For a couple days, our front yard will be dusted with natural confetti.
The truth is, many of my words will remain stowed away in Google docs and old journals, treasures never to be discovered. Some are precious pearls shining with personal insight. Others are sharp yet healing gemstones. Many are for my edification alone, and I’m at peace with that. When we write through fresh wounds, the most faithful choice we can make may be to keep those words between us and God.
In this age of oversharing, it’s critical to remember that we are allowed privacy and secrets. So, we hold our deepest truths close and share sparingly to trusted friends. Perhaps you already know this, but it’s easy for me to forget as someone who has bared her heart online for over seven years.
Art shaped in private, art created simply as a form of self-expression, is every bit as valuable as art presented to an audience.
Whatever secret story you hold in your heart, whatever pain that cannot be spoken, whatever invisible scars trace you, know that you can write your hard truth, burn it up, and let it go.
Not every work is meant to be a hearty, show-stopping peony. A young peony bush takes years to flower, yet her incremental growth still matters. Or, like the white petals that grace our lawn, you can let your words burst and flutter in the breeze for a moment — beautiful, fleeting, free.
NOURISH YOURSELF
During my toddler’s story time, I often read him Here and Now by Julia Denos. This poetic children’s book captures both the grandness and the minuteness of the present in an accessible way for littles and their caretakers.
Reading Here and Now evokes a deep calm inside of me that is helpful to recall whenever I experience a toxic thought loop. Toxic thought loops occur whenever we get stuck focusing on past regrets or cataloging future worries, which distract us from the present. Can you relate?
The next time you need relief from anxiety, try this Here and Now-inspired thought exercise:
1. Find a comfortable seated position where you can relax without interruption. Tune into your senses: What can you see, smell, hear, taste and feel?
2. Next, close your eyes and imagine the wider world. What else might be happening right now in your neighborhood or city? How about elsewhere, such as the natural world or a faraway city?
3. Now, return home: Focus on your breathing and bring your awareness back to your body. Place your hand your heart and say, “Right here, right now, [I am] becoming. Isn’t that wonderful?” (This quote is adapted from Denos’ book.) Blink your eyes open. Resume your regular activity.
NOURISH OTHERS
How do you cultivate connections with your loved ones? My husband and I are working our way through Eight Dates: Essential Conversations for a Lifetime of Love and it’s been a lovely tool for fruitful discussion. Each chapter covers essential topics such as trust, conflict and physical intimacy, and includes corresponding conversation starters for date night. In addition to this book, the Gottman Institute also provides an app, Gottman card decks, to be used with romantic partners that has a variety of questions that promote deep connections. Finally, whether you’re single or partnered, the storytelling game, Where Should We Begin, is a fantastic resource for building closer friendships.
NOURISHING WORDS
On my nightstand
How to Walk Into a Room by Emily Freeman: Rich with insightful reflection questions and sage advice delivered in a gentle tone, Emily Freeman’s most recent book is one I never knew I needed. I will keep her words close to aid me whenever I’m walking through a life transition.
My new favorite album
“Deeper Well” by Kacey Musgraves: The title track of Kacey Musgraves’ sixth album has been my anthem for the past month. Her entire album is so strong I’ve been listening to it from start to finish while driving or doing dishes. I also enjoy her songs “Cardinal,” “Jade” and “The Architect,” both for their lyrics and melodies.
Recent writing
On the blog: Some Things You Never Forget
For Living Lutheran: “This is where you can meet God”
Follow me on Instagram for more stories, including a rainbow revelation and my thoughts on finishing the Orange Theory Dri Tri (My account is now private, but I regularly monitor follows and I would love to connect with you there!).
Well, that’s it for your April issue. I’ll be back in your inbox next month with more ideas and stories to share with you. In the meantime, may you feel God’s presence as you witness the gifts of spring and patiently await your own blooming.
Grace and peace,
Erin
“You can tell the story of how you forded the stream or got lost on the short cut that wasn’t, how you trekked your way to courage or a heart, but all of that comes after the fact. There is no road ahead. There is only the walking, the tales we weave of our adventures, and the songs we sing to call our companions on.” —Lynn Ungar, “The Path”
Such wise words about keeping some art to yourself. I find that’s when my words flow best as well!
I love the analogy of peonies. And peonies are my all time favorite flower, there’s a huge row of them at my parents’ house and it always signifies the start of summer.
“Art shaped in private, art created simply as a form of self-expression, is every bit as valuable as art presented to an audience.” YES YES YES glad you’re taking care of yourself ❤️