What if we let ourselves feel it all? (A note from Nina)
A close-up of Nina’s hands, closed as fists, with the words “BE YOU” written on the knuckles. Her torso, in a black tank top, is blurry in the background.
Hello Fireflies!
Nina here. I’m the newest member of the Firefly team (though I’ve been part of this community for over a decade) – I’m so excited to start getting to know you all more.
I wrote you this newsletter about self-doubt, meditation and what I’ve learned here at Firefly.
Right up top I want to say that I’ll be sharing here about my own mental health struggles, including feelings of low self-worth. If that’s not right for you today, I totally get it.
When I first turned towards mindfulness meditation, I was longing for relief.
Relief from lifelong negative self-thoughts.
Relief from the sense that I just couldn’t get life right.
Relief from the heavy tears that wanted to push out from behind my eyes.
I spent many years trying to make these feelings go away with effort and distraction. I was a good worker bee, highly functional despite the devastating effects of major depression. This served me in many ways but was also exhausting.

Then I began to learn about mindfulness, and I encountered the idea of “not around but through” — the concept that we can’t talk ourselves out of any negative emotions, because they exist no matter what. There’s no escaping grief, despair, regret, even self-loathing. And actually, the only path towards healing is to open our arms wide and welcome them. I thought:
No fucking way am I going to embrace the feelings I have worked my entire life to get rid of.
Months passed, then years.
More meditations were done and workbooks were completed, and still I struggled. I just wanted relief from the wet blanket of depression. I did not want to feel any more of those shitty feelings.
And then I heard teacher Tara Brach talk of “Inviting our demons to tea.” For some reason, I felt a nugget of curiosity, instead of resistance. What would that even look like?
Slowly, I started putting my own hand on my heart when I noticed that mean internal voice. I started saying, Oh honey, it must be hard to feel so bad about yourself. After many (many) reps, there started to be moments of softening, of ease. Maybe I couldn't yell myself out of depression, but maybe I could gentle myself through it.
This whole time, I was quietly learning the same lessons at Firefly.
Each time I entered a Firefly space, I felt that same permission to be easy with myself.
What if I offer tea to my writing fears?
What if I write even when I don’t believe I’m good enough?
What if I open my arms wide to all that exists inside of me, and trust that there’s room on the page for anything I want to express?
What I was learning as a writer and what I was learning as a meditator started to become one. My writing became more expansive and free. My sense of self became more solid and grounded. I learned to be my own best companion, on and off the page.
For me, Firefly has been a home away from home that holds the attunement and kindness that I’ve always hungered for.
It’s a space to practice gentling myself through the hard things and uplifting myself through the glorious things. And it’s a space to be witnessed while doing all that. It’s a clear container that allows exploration and growth for us all at our own paces.
I am so incredibly excited to be on the other side of Firefly these days! I’m learning about all the ways Firefly shows up in the world and how I can be a part of that. It’s a dream come true.
You can come explore this with me in Seven Swimming Pools this summer.
This is a large group, sliding scale, 7-week class where we all take a week to explore something we’re currently nerding out on. My week is about self-compassion for writers. I’d love to see you there.
I’m also running a 5-week small group workshop (Keep Your Pen Moving) class this summer if you want to cozy up and write with me and 7 others to write, connect and be brave together.
And, we have so much more going on. Read on!
Come start, or start over.
Begin Here is a series of doorways to find our way back towards our voices, with joy and curiosity.
* Thursday evenings with Asifa on Zoom
Keep Your Pen Moving is also great for beginners, but just a little deeper, with the same spirit of possibility and exploration.
* Tuesday evenings with me, Nina, on Zoom
Come play with fiction.
Brief Bursts (The Fiction Edition) is a flash fiction class, dedicated to the shortest short stories imaginable, and the art of less.
* Monday mornings with Britt on Zoom
The Fiction Workshop will create structure, accountability and feedback for anyone with a fiction project on the go.
* Tuesday evenings with Kim on Zoom
Come find your flow.
Focus and Flow is a gentle and generative class with lots of prompts and writing time, based on the science of finding our flow state.
* Monday evenings with Sophia on Zoom
Progress is a heads-down-let’s-work class for folks with projects on the go.
* Thursday mornings with Britt on Zoom
Come make it weirder and wilder.
Romantasy will blend science fiction and romance into places no one has ever been before.
* Wednesday evenings with Kim on Zoom.
Come try a little bit of everything.
Seven Swimming Pools is where each of us tries out something strange and fun, and invite you to play along.
Unlike our other sessions, this is designed for a big group, less sharing, shorter sessions, sliding scale, and all sessions will be recorded if you miss one.
And finally, come to a luminous summer author evening.
On July 29th, we’ll be hosting the incomparable Brandon Wint for a discussion and reading about writing, grief and the passage of time.
This is online, sliding scale, and all are welcome. All proceeds go towards funding creativity grants for Indigenous Youth.
A poem for your heart.
Here’s “to the parts of you” by Justine Taormino.
Here’s something amazing.
It turns out that when you touch yourself with kindness (hand on your heart or two hands holding your face), it lights up the same part of your brain that lights up when a safe person touches you with kindness. Can you believe that?
Let’s be as nice to ourselves here as we are to each other. And let’s write as bravely and freely as we possibly can.
In it with you,
