I’ve been thinking lately about my tremendous drive to “understand my creative process”…

Hi, it’s Mary! I’m one of the trio of new coaches at Firefly and I’m take a turn writing the newsletter this round. I’ve got to tell you that in the past I have seriously resisted the fall.

People who have been reading these newsletters for a while have been giving me knowing side-eye lately. Three years ago, I was making passionate pronouncements about how the Internet is not the right container to hold the tender heart of this work.

Hellooooo beautiful human. I read once that my Myers-Briggs personality type (ENFJ) struggles in romantic relationships because we can so clearly see the ideal of human connection… but human connection doesn’t live in ideals.

Human connection has drastically changed shape this year. We’re all looking around this new planet, getting to know what it does to our bodies, to our hearts. Here’s one example — the New York Times published graphs of social media use from January through April, and it is the spike of all spikes.

I’ve been thinking about the joy and agony of big dreams. This spring I had my last session with The Big One, our yearly 9-month-long class. My group had gone through a lot together, three seasons of life and writing, two retreats, many tears, and a pandemic that turned us all into two dimensional pixel faces.

We’re in an immense and important moment, witnessing the most recent manifestation of centuries of systemic racism finally entering public consciousness in a big new way.

It’s vast. And like many people, I don’t know how to speak about it, or if I even should.

Is anyone else amazed at how exhausting daily life is right now?

Even on the good days when the sun is out and there’s nothing newly terrible on the horizon, I often find myself moody, spacey and irritated about the smallest things…

The days are blurring and melting into each other. But — much to my astonishment — the one thing that has held them in place is this new thing we’re doing, Morning Coffee Sessions.

I’ve been thinking lately about how daily life is requiring so much creativity right now… And how, when there’s creativity, there’s vulnerability, and there’s their rascally little buddy, comparison.

I’ve struggled with this newsletter. I have a ton of thoughts I want to share with you… but my voice feels quiet these days, tender. There is so much in the air, so much hardness and need to know, so much fight and push.

I know we’re all spending way too much time on screens right now. And it’s spring! For real! I want you to be gazing out the window. But I have some small, good things that I want to drop into your lap first.

This is a note to let you know where we’re at with studio plans and hopes as we watch the unfolding news about COVID19.

First of all, some guiding principles…

This is a big moment.

As you may know, we went through a huge, multi-layered recruitment process this winter.

It felt like a river swelling — sooo much energy and chemistry and dreaming flowing with us.

My last newsletter was about pride. Pride is SO IMPORTANT to anyone who wants to nourish and build their creative work. I could go on and on. I did. But we can’t talk about pride without also talking about doubt.

Sometimes writing workshops feel more like high-stakes contests in the art of deep humility.

Let me tell you a story from the other side of that doubt.

The winds are high and it’s time to hunker down and prepare for change.

And this newsletter is all about change because our wonderful, hilarious, smart and sensitive writing coach Jenna is moving on to her own self-employed adventures.

Sometimes at night, when I’m all tight and rushed from the momentum of the day, I sit in the backyard and wait.

I wait for the motion sensor light to click off, for the first stars to show between the tree branches.