Well, I finally did the thing and completed the project that I started sometime in 2020 – I wrote a book and it will be released in two weeks on January 24th!
I think I’m a bit in disbelief that this is even happening because while I’ve been writing since I was a very young child, there have been numerous times that I’ve lost myself throughout the years and subsequently abandoned writing for a while. That’s life, though, I suppose. We move through years like seasons, and in the midst of it all, I sometimes feel as though I’ve been stagnant, unmoving. I think I felt that way for a really long time and so it was through words that I would (attempt to) figure out what exactly I felt and why. Sometimes I was so depersonalized and disassociated that it was only through writing that I could feel me return to my body again.It was within those pages that my brain – an often wild and chaotic place – would begin to make sense to me again.
Similarly, throughout the past several years my writing would come and go in fits and starts while I went through a divorce, mental health crises, a career change, two moves, and a cancer scare, not to mention all the other relationship changes I made during this time. I didn’t even know I was creating a book out of all that I was writing because there was no cohesive plan or theme in mind at the time. Writing was simply therapeutic and it kept me going… as writing always does for me.
Sometime last year, however, I looked over the many pages of poems I had accumulated and realized that there was, in fact, a theme revealing itself in those words. A theme that spoke of grief, of pain, of growth, of love, and of healing. These poems encompassed my life over the past few years and showed me that even when I was hurting and grieving, I was also beginning a new journey that would eventually lead me to a place of health and peace – something that felt unobtainable for most of my life. In the midst of that journey, my writing also began to take on themes of and about nature. I found myself venturing outdoors more, in part because my fiancé is a forester and forever outdoor enthusiast himself, and in my awe over discoveries made while climbing up a mountain tethered by a rope, pushing through the burn in my lungs and legs as I hiked over steep terrain, gliding through rivers and lakes as my hands steadily moved the oar from one side of the kayak to the other, witnessing sights in person that are otherwise impossible without making those efforts and finding mindfulness in the process… it was nature that reminded me of how small I truly am. To be able to visualize that smallness, the simultaneous feeling of insignificance and power, was helpful because it was also so human. It showed me that though I am mortal, I remain part of something that goes beyond well beyond me, well beyond all of us. Though I am not religious or believe in a god, I have discovered that I do believe in faith – a powerful spark for anyone no matter where it is born from. My faith was found and developed in the reverence for the earth, and so all of this also became incorporated into my work as it continued to heal my wounds, all that I felt had been broken.
In August of 2023, I made it a goal to finalize this collection. I made room for it in my life and shed the last remnants of all that held me back in order to make this book a reality. I think, out of everything I have written up to now, I feel most proud of this collection because it is also the truest body of work I have created. It is me at my most honest, a vulnerability that terrifies me but is also a relief. And to now share it with everyone? A gift, one for which I will always be grateful.
The World Goes Down Slow is currently available for pre-order at most retailers (such as Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Books-A-Million) and is a poignant poetry collection that celebrates healing through intimate and inquisitive reflections on worthiness. The included poems touch on the very human themes of grief, passion, and identity while also maintaining a lens of curiosity and respect for the vast complexities of nature. Because of this, The World Goes Down Slow encourages us to surrender to that which gives us power: the awe over the unknown.
I hope this book reaches those who are in need, all who have felt or are currently feeling similarly. I hope you can find a home of solidarity within the words. Regardless, I appreciate the space I’ve been given for though it is fleeting, it is also meaningful.
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