A Journey Worth Taking
Finding a secret cove plus the six-month anniversary of this newsletter (which almost didn't happen)
Issue #27/ Welcome to the Good and Beautiful Things newsletter. Whether you are new here or you’ve been around for a while, thanks for stopping by!
It was a typical July morning in Tennessee the first time I brought a friend to Aimee’s Cove.
The sun pushed the wet heat into our skin as we unloaded our kayaks, but thankfully the clouds shifted just in time to pull the worst of it back. As we sailed across the lake even the slightest breeze brought some relief. Wild hibiscus flowers waved their oversized pink and white blooms from the shore and the whisper of our paddles provided the perfect soundtrack for a conversation between two old friends.
I knew we’d reached Aimee’s cove when I spotted Aimee’s tree, a Bald Cypress that first captured my affection because of the roots that emerged from the water in a haphazard circle around the base of the tree. These roots are also known as the “knees” of the tree, a fact that only made me love it more. As we settled into the cove at the end of the lake, a pair of Great Blue Herons landed on the shore, completing the magic spell.
I drifted in my kayak, hovering near the tree’s knees, while my friend used the knobby wood stakes to anchor her kayak so she could slip into the water and cool down. As we talked, my gaze lingered on Mr. and Mrs. Heron, thankful for the elegance of their company in the cove that morning.
The Christening of Aimee’s Cove
You may have guessed by now that Aimee’s Cove is not the official name of that part of the lake, nor is Aimee’s Tree likely to be found in your guidebook on Tennessee nature. My husband and I chose the names when we first discovered the cove earlier this summer. It happened to be my turn that day to choose our route of exploration, hence the sharing of my name.
Finding this special place that I can revisit weekly, or even several times a week if the weather permits, is similar to finding the space that is now the Good and Beautiful Things Newsletter.
The Newsletter That Almost Didn’t Happen
It’s been six months since I began writing this newsletter, which means I just passed my half-year anniversary. In the twenty-eight weeks since I sent out the first issue, I’ve written twenty-seven newsletters.
My friend Shannon (the same friend who visited Aimee’s Cove) started a newsletter a few weeks before I started mine. When the idea of my own newsletter first got under my skin, I tried to ignore the urge. I worried my friend would feel like I was copying her and I was also afraid that I would make a fool of myself.
Shannon is a spiritual director who, at the time, had just stepped down from running a successful homeschool tutorial for years. Because of her various careers and connections, it felt like she had a potential following as well as a compelling reason to write. As a recently retired homeschool mom, I could count on my hand (skipping a few fingers) who might be interested in hearing from me weekly.
Be that as it may, I couldn’t help writing down ideas for a potential newsletter. Quickly some themes emerged from my scribbles: creativity, courage, and curiosity.
But I found myself short on courage. For the last decade, our family’s lives have overlapped with a faith-based art community. Since we first learned of the organization, I have deeply respected the excellence of their work. Several times I’ve submitted writing or offered the use of my theater skills but each time I’ve been met with disinterest. The message has slowly branded itself deep into my heart, I have nothing of creative value to offer the community that I love.
The stormy cloud of doubt hovering over my artistic abilities threatened to smother my ideas for the newsletter.
Thank goodness it wasn’t the only message getting through.
Back in my days as a young mom I knew I was different than the other stay-at-home moms. While other moms composed grocery lists, I composed an acceptance speech for my future Tony award (prior to becoming a mother, I spent eight years studying theater). I took art classes and shared the lessons with my kids as part of our homeschool study. My friend Shannon (yes, the same friend again) and I both wrote blogs during the early and middle years of parenting and I spent Saturdays working on the stage adaptation of a children’s book.
I remember a particularly cold reaction when I chose not to attend a homeschool mom’s retreat in order to protect my writing time. Many of the moms I interacted with just didn’t get it. But I knew, even back then, that paying attention to the unique shape of my heart was allowing me to become more of who God had made me to be.
Trusting the direction of my heart as a compass leading me in the right direction (in this case, to start a newsletter), I finally yielded. A week later Good and Beautiful Things was born.
Just a few weeks after I wrote my first issue, a podcast episode further infused me with the belief that however illogical, this step was the right, next step for me.
In the episode, writers Shawn and Maile Smucker talked about the sheer number of people in the world and about the vast difference of each person’s individual taste. They shared examples of movies and books that were voted number one by some people, while others couldn’t understand their appeal at all. Here’s a condensed excerpt from their conversation:
Maile: There are a lot of different tastes out there and it just takes you finding the people who like what you’re offering.
Shawn: Because of the internet, we have access to those people, we just have to find them…As creative people we have that freedom to realize maybe it doesn’t matter what certain individual people think about what I’ve written because they have a right to like or not like something.
Maile: You’re gonna find your people eventually. They’re there.
As I processed what they’d said, it became clear to me that I’d let the opinion of two or three people shape how I felt about my gifts and dreams. Two or three people! For ten years!
I continued working on my newsletter with a new sense of freedom and curiosity.
And that’s where all of you come in.
It didn’t take long for several of you to let me know that something I’d written had resonated with you or encouraged you. My friend Shannon, by the way, completely supported my desire to step into the Substack world alongside her. At first it was friends who reached out, then it was other writers within the writing community that I had recently joined.
My art teacher of ten years, Carla Sonheim, is an artist that I respect and who has greatly influenced my creative life. She read my early newsletters and wrote in an email:
“You are a beautiful, engaging writer and I love the hope and honesty of it.”
I can’t imagine any better compliments than honesty and hope applied to my writing.
By taking a chance on this newsletter, I began to find the people who have a taste for what I do. It’s been a privilege and a gift.
I’m thankful for each and every one of you who have read, commented, liked, subscribed, shared and showed up in this space with me.
What does any of this have to do with the journey to Aimee’s Cove?
Like my visits to Aimee’s cove, I hope we can continue to notice some good and beautiful things together.
Like bringing along a good friend to visit Aimee’s Tree for a little swim and a chat, I hope we can show up here with honesty and understanding, with curiosity and courage.
And even on the days when it seems like too much work to load the kayaks on top of the car and collect all of the gear that I’ll need for another trip to the lake, I hope I can continue to listen to the voice that invites me to show up anyway. Because no matter how hard or inconvenient it might be, a trip to Aimee’s Cove or a chance to meet you here is always worth it in the end.
Here’s to six more months!
What internal message do you need to set aside in order to pursue a dream?
From the Sketchbook Archives
In 2017, I converted an old book into my sketchbook. Here’s a peek.
Words to Remember
“-When you give an (admittedly limited) account of what you have seen, you are making your reader's life more abundant… If the art you’re making is bad, fine. Keep at it. It will get better if you are committed to the work.”
-Jonathan Rogers, from his weekly newsletter
Blessings from the Guest Nest,
-Aimee
Congratulations on your six months anniversary! ❤️ I am proudly sharing your journey as you encourage and inspire others.
Good and Beautiful Things in so many ways!