The French author André Gide wrote that “one does not discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of the shore for a very long time.”
Self-publishing The Stardust Elves, which is inextricably linked with my journey to becoming a mother to my three children (and to myself — more on that later); has meant accepting to lose sight of familiar shores for some time.
Much like what I imagine a caterpillar must be feeling when metamorphosing inside its cocoon; both these transformative journeys, as a mother and as an author, have been at times deeply exhilarating and at times deeply uncomfortable, changing me on an almost cellular level.
Motherhood and self-publishing a poetry collection in a language that is not my mother tongue are experiences that stripped me of my comfort zone — that seemingly safe but stagnant place where humans tend to cling to stories that no longer serve them.
I came to realize that discomfort is not only inevitable; it is a necessary precondition to all growth.
Over here I will share some of the lessons I have learned along the way, some tools I have acquired, sprinkled with some words that I hope will soothe your soul.
But don’t get me wrong. This is not the account of some fully enlightened being — there are others for that. I’m still in the thick of it, and I will tell you about that thickness as well.
Whoever you are, and whatever voyage of enlightenment or murky thickness you might be traveling through; I welcome you — and I love you.
Oh yes, there will be that as well. That Grand Old Word. I believe it’s where it all begins and where it all leads. So if that word and my declaration of love for you makes you uncomfortable, do stay. Discomfort is a good place to start.