Hello Beautiful Human.

Mid-August can be a little strange, can’t it? Whatever I do, I get tugged down by all the things I thought the summer would be.

Is anyone else feeling super awkward about this transition out of COVID-19 restrictions? I was somehow imagining a feeling of total freedom and safety, everyone out in the streets, in restaurants. Hugs are back, stores are open, take a lick of my ice cream, let’s go to the dentist. Of course that’s not what’s happening…

Hello! Sophia here, one of the writing coaches at Firefly, with a story. It was 2015 and I was in the deep woods of California, struggling to maneuver up a ropes course.

Has it been “one of those weeks”? Already?

I think we’re all feeling it… Like the tide is rising on our little island of okayness, and there’s less and less space to move. Maybe we’re already standing on one foot…

Here’s one thing I know but constantly forget about writing — it takes a lot more time than I think.
Not only time but patience.
Not only patience but surrender.
Not only surrender but generosity.

Hello! Asifa, Kim and Mary here, three of the coaches at Firefly.

Way back in March, we ran our first ever retreat for BIPOC writers, and it was so beautiful that we quickly decided we wanted to create a space for BIPOC writers (us included) that meets regularly.

I want to take you back to a day in grade four.

It was spring, warm. My classmates and I streamed into the classroom and found, curiously, that all the desks had been rearranged.

A little while ago, Coach Britt texted a photo to the Firefly team and said — this reminds me of us.

It was taken by her friend, Lisa…

Thank you.

We’re in the last hours of 2020 and I don’t know if anyone is checking their email, but I’m slipping out of vacation to say — thank you so much for helping to keep Firefly humming through this difficult year.

The other day I was clicking through old newsletters and I found one from right after lockdown started in Toronto.

It announced — in what felt like a VERY cautious tone — that the studio would be closed for two weeks.

Here we are, late fall, holding on tight.

The nights are sinking in, COVID-19 numbers are skyrocketing, the American election remains in tense limbo, and some of us are preparing for holidays we never imagined.

We have news!

After many years, two beloved behind-the-scenes Fireflies will be moving on to new horizons — our office manager Bree is pivoting her attention to her organizing business Well Placed, and our Hello Writer manager Emma is refocusing on her new life in Australia.

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.