“I am out with lanterns, looking for myself.”
Emily Dickinson wrote this in a letter to a friend after she moved to a new house and lost some of her belongings in the process. Some say it was meant to be a funny line about the frustration of losing things. Others read it as a deep and introspective metaphor about the grueling and exhilarating task of “finding yourself”. Both can be true. That’s what art and poetry do, no? One phrase can contain many truths.
Why this, why now?
The answer keeps evolving. Below are Versions 2 and 1
Version 2: written Sept 18 2024
My entire creative outlook changed when I ran across Georgia O’Keeffe’s quote, “I have already settled it for myself, so flattery and criticism go out the same window and I am quite free.” Approaching my writing that way is my goal, and a daily practice seemed like the right way to approach it.
I want to take the preciousness out of my writing. In the past, I have loved something I’ve written so much that I went all Gollum with it—hide it like it’s my precious. But in the end, that’s just a bad idea. Share your work! We’re given this crazy sensitivity so that we can reflect on what we notice, then be messengers for the wilds of this one beautiful life we’re given.
Out With Lanterns also exactly what the subtitle is: my practice. I’m posting daily because for about eight years I have been blocked with a capital B. Some people say writer’s block isn’t real, or that it’s perfectionism disguised as stoppage, or that it’s just laziness or letting your fear win. Sure. Maybe it’s all of those things. (Maybe it’s also called being a hands-on mother.) But I was so deep in the stoppage after the success of my book. How was I supposed to follow up a unicorn-style-publishing experience and an instant New York Times Bestseller? How?? I didn’t know. I still don’t. But not writing feels a lot like holding my breath. I was blue in the face for almost a decade. No more.
I didn’t notice until the day after I’d gone live that Out With Lanterns’ acronym was O.W.L. If that isn’t the universe offering an affirmation…
And to all you writers, musicians, artists, keep practicing.
Version 1: Written mid-August, 2024.
I wrote a bestselling memoir eight years ago. The success of that memoir did not do what I thought it would do. As I wrote on Jane Ratcliffe’s beautiful substack, Beyond.
Of course I was thrilled that the book was well received, but I also began to realize that praise like that wouldn’t do what I thought it would do: fix my life or make me a creative workhorse. For the first half of my life, I sought validation everywhere. I wanted people to tell me I was good and okay and doing well. But somehow I have almost completely flipped on that front since having the success of one tiny memoir. These days, I don’t need anyone to tell me what I’m making is good. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t! That’s not the point. If you knew me fifteen years ago, you would know that this statement is revolutionary. Somehow Dog Medicine’s mild success helped me begin to understand that the best part of writing is not the accolades, but it’s the every day creative practice.
These days, I write a poem daily because it’s my way of noting the beauty, consoling the sorrow, recognizing the magical. Oh, and the magical?! I hope you’ll see in my poems that magic or serendipity or fate or signs or spirit, whatever you want to call them, are truly everywhere, if only we pay attention and stay on the path towards humility, gratitude, and love.
Out With Lanterns is for everyone. The poems will usually take about one minute to read, and will hopefully help you think about something differently or more deeply as you go about your day. I will be posting daily, and you can read archives anytime.
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