11 Things That Matter
Is this a thing? It's a thing.
My writing mentor — and more importantly, my cat Delilah’s good friend —
taught me about a writing practice she calls 11s. It draws power from its simplicity and presence. Write 11 things. They don’t have to be related. No item is too mundane. While they may be best practiced daily, I’m borrowing them for a different purpose here.Much of my public writing comes from thoughts and feelings I’m processing, healing, or growing through — or that I did at an earlier point and am reflecting upon. As a writer, there can be a tendency to fall into the habit of asking, “Is this important enough to share? Does anyone care?” I’ve noticed myself feeling at times like what I publish here must have a big lesson connected to it, all tied up with a big bow.
I want to let myself be messy here sometimes. Not always. But sometimes. I want to share things that are happening in my life that may feel important now, but will fall into the deepest recesses of my memory before long, as well as those happenings that may seem trivial but whose meaning time will reveal. You never know how meanings change.
I’m calling this series 11 Things That Matter because I’m in a season of my life where I’m observing more than ever how grand the Plan is. Whether you call Them God or Source or the Universe, you may feel like sometimes you notice disparate pieces of what you thought to be wholly different puzzles slide into one form, as if by magic. (Or perhaps you choose chaos and randomness as an explanation. That’s okay, too.)
The more my life fills up with magic that would have seemed impossible to me not long ago, the greater surrender I allow myself to relax into. This is a growing theme in my life right now, embodied by my perpetually belly-up cat Delilah, whose fluffy visage and floofy torso will serve as this series’s mascot.
September felt … full. The radiance of powerful connections during a visit to Los Angeles powered me through personal challenges, including a car that’s been in the shop for more than a month (Oh, Epona…), a chaotic situation with my apartment complex that’s been dragging out since late August, and a friend losing their life.
The fullness in my life of love without form has also been a rich presence supporting me as I navigate the twists and turns — and more than that, the uncertainty. Sometimes it’s not the movement that wears us down as much as it is the not knowing if we’re anywhere close to the end. We hear the wind carrying the ocean waves crashing on the rocks below. As we walk in midnight darkness, how close is the edge of the cliff?
My floofy signal has arrived. When I reach a particular depth in the words, Delilah can sense it, even from the other room. Snuggles are here.
I feel something coming. Another season change. I don’t mean the weather. As a Libra, the waning weeks of Virgo season felt heavy. I can sense that as the challenges I noted above reach resolution in the days to come, there’s newness waiting for me. I’m opening my heart for that meeting.
I debuted a new offering in my work several weeks ago, and I’ve been incrementally working toward making it a bigger part of my offerings. To borrow words from my friend
, I’ve been approaching building this new practice as I might a terrified bird—gently, not scaring it off too easily. This new work feels like the next thing that is meant for me. I’m moving toward it slowly, with soft footfalls, so that I can hear it whispering to me what it wants to be.I didn’t finish what I was saying four Things ago. I have the most wonderful people in my life right now. I love how I’m allowing them to be here. No forcing. No chasing. No clinging. It feels safe, and yet still a bit new. A good Thing.
🩵
James