The problem of old journals & the multiverse — a note from Britt
A top-down view of an open notebook, glasses and case, a glass of water, a mug, and a pen — all on a wood desk.
Hi Fireflies, Britt here!
If we don’t know each other yet, I’m one of the facilitators at Firefly, surfing the newsletter waves today! It’s great to be here.
I have a confession.
In the back of my office closet sits a huge pile of notebooks. The pages are filled with my writing, and the stack gets taller every year.
From time to time, I peer into the dim and consider pulling them all out. I want to comb through them for the story ideas, half-finished poems, and memories that are scribbled in there.
But I can’t. It’s too daunting.
Rereading old notebooks feels like entering the Multiverse, where there are many different versions of me all existing at once. There’s the me when Covid hit. The me when cancer hit. The me after breakups, deaths, and nights of raging insomnia. And then there’s also the silly me, the wise me, the naive me. It’s a lot.
And yet, on those pages are ideas I love, and thoughts that could be seeds for future projects. There are stories that I need to write, and truths that I don’t want to leave this world without voicing, even just to a few people.
Poet Andrea Gibson once said:
"Pay attention to the walls you build while trying to keep your heart safe."
I read this now, and think that maybe this untouched pile of writing is my own self-built wall. And I'm so ready to dismantle it.
What about you?
Do you have your own version of my stack of notebooks? Maybe it’s many journals lined up on a shelf. Or a legion of folders on your computer desktop. Even if you haven't been writing for long, it adds up.
I have an idea for a new workshop or program to help us face this problem, and I would love your thoughts.
I want to offer our community structure, accountability, and camaraderie around this riddle of diving into our archives. Together, we’d meet our past writing selves, armed with highlighters and sticky notes and lots of self-compassion. We’d finally figure out what to do with all of that stuff.
Is this just me, though? Do you want this? I’m here and listening. Write me back and tell me —
What would you love (or need) this to include?
What kinds of support would you like to receive?
What’s at the heart of the problem for you?
… Or anything else. I welcome compliments and knock-knock jokes, too.
Whatever your experience of this, you’re not alone.
We all have piles. We all have walls. We all, imperfectly, day by day, look for ways to keep making the things that matter.
And I’m here in the mess with you, as are we all.
Here are some ways to connect to us in the coming month…
Push Week
We’re so excited to bring back this popular large group program that we ADORE. Sliding scale and super fun.
Morning Coffee Sessions
We love spending 9am with writers. We gather on Zoom, give a little check-in question and then a prompt, and we write quietly.
We’re coming up on our 1400th session! Amazing.
Our winter workshops are coming up!
On Zoom and in person, with a new 1-day erotica class, led by Kim and Chris! All the deets will be on our website by this Friday.
If you like, you can join our lists to receive a nudge when bursary applications open on October 24th or when early bird registrations open on November 4th.
Here’s a poem for you.
I chose the poem “Space Station” by Shannon Kernaghan to share with you today.
All heart,
P.S. If you’d like to nerd out about Multiverse Theory with me, check it out here.