Welcome to Longing & Light
Over a decade ago, I had a dream. A little bird came and tapped its beak against my window, then dropped a folded piece of paper inside my room. On the outside, in a beautiful but unadorned script, it read, “Your calling,” and on the inside, “Tell your story. Write the book.”
It felt as though I’d been gifted with an assignment from some higher power.
Ever since, I’ve been a never-ending work in progress. I’ve started and abandoned this poor, sweet spark of inspiration more times than I can count. Still, through all the glorious and distracting chaos of the years since, I’ve never lost the sense that my path lies on the other side of this task. The Universe has patiently and dutifully continued to send nudge after nudge, sign after sign. And now, I have finally reached a place of enough peace and safety for the urge to move toward this dream to come fully alive. I’ve found the courage to stop running from this destiny, even if I must stumble all the way there.
I know it’s largely fear that has kept all these words locked inside me (and in disjointed journals and Google Docs…) for all these years. Fear of visibility. If I am as authentic as this work will require me to be, I may be truly seen in a way and on a scale that I never have been before, and the part of me that learned that vulnerability was unsafe sees that as an existential threat. Even now, as I write these words, I can feel my body brace and my cheeks flush.
I’m not ready. I never will be. But I’m here anyway, to see what I have to say.
I honestly have no idea what this will eventually become. I have tried earnestly to apply the full force of my intellect to press it into a tidy, cogent, preconceived shape before allowing it to unfold, and it simply will not comply. I’m beginning to understand that answering this call will require a degree of surrender I find deeply uncomfortable. But I’ve accepted that surrender was always part of the assignment.
So I can’t promise you what you will find here. You will find letters, some to myself, some to others. I don’t really aspire to give “advice” per se, but I do have a knack for shining light in dark spaces (and I’ve traversed quite a few dark spaces of my own, so I have street cred here). What I do hope to do is to simply offer a light. Not a floodlight pronouncing the way forward, but a match you might use to light a lantern of your own.
Not all of my writings will be overt extensions of light, though, and that’s where longing comes in. Some of my writing may be on topics that I’m still actively turning over in my hand, head, and heart: puzzles I’m still trying to make sense of. I want to share from that place as well, because I’ve found that sometimes we don’t need answers; we need the right question. Maybe something in my curiosity will spark yours. Maybe not. And that’s OK. These may only ever satisfy my own longing, and I’ve come to understand that’s a holy thing in and of itself.
I imagine the people drawn to this body of work will be the ones always searching: for meaning, healing, aliveness, a way through the darkness, or simply a life that feels more fully their own. But who knows. I suppose we’ll have to see who shows up.
Whoever you are, I hope you find here whatever comfort, spark, or clever turn of phrase that you need.
Thank you for coming on this journey with me.
I am alight with wonder at where this might lead.
With love,
Shannon