This newsletter is the second in a series begun two weeks ago with 50 Rotations Around the Sun, on the occasion of my 50th birthday.




As I begin another trip around the sun, I want to remember:
Creativity thrives on the edges of things; this is a place to gather. We don’t have to strive for the center, we can claim and enjoy the spaciousness of the outskirts and focus on connection as we welcome others to gather with us.
When we find ourselves on the edges or on edge, we can walk around a bit, finding a rhythm. When things feel overwhelming on the outside, we can return to a focus on the patterns of our lives and routines. We can craft a way of being in the world that remembers attention is an offering of energy and care.
We can invite our creativity into cahoots, scheming ways to disrupt the cycles of overwhelm with moments of pause and rest in awe, wonder, and connection. As we find these things, we share them with others, offering sustenance and nurturance.
My last newsletter focused on the first statement above about edge spaces. This week I want to explore the idea of rhythm and pattern, the ways we shape and move through our days.
"I don’t know how to settle down to my writing. Everything is still much too chaotic, and I lack self-confidence, or perhaps the urgent need to speak out. I am still waiting for things to come out and find a form of their own accord. But first I myself must find the right pattern, my own pattern."
Etty Hillesum
I have been reading Etty Hillesum’s diaries. She writes from 1941 to 1943, during the Nazi occupation of the Netherlands. Her diaries and letters were published after her death in Auschwitz at age 29.
I was struck by how much she writes about her writing life and creative process. This quote about finding the right pattern, and that it will be one’s own pattern really stood out to me. Similar to claiming our space, living into our own patterns is an act of self-care, and helps us to be intentional with our attention and care.
When so much is designed to overwhelm and destabilize, finding our own pattern and committing to that feels like a necessary skill for life and a small act of resistance. Particularly with creative work, the pull to distraction is very tempting. Staying with our desire to create matters.
To me this includes the creativity involved in making a meal for family and friends, witnessing spring blooming in your neighborhood, and taking time to compose a note to a friend. These conscious acts of making are a choice of how we spend our time and how we pattern our days. They matter.
In her newsletter, The Noticing Question,
writes about beginning a week of training asking the same question of her students each morning.“What is one thing beautiful or noteworthy you noticed in the last 24 hours?”
She describes the initial silence and discomfort, the hesitancy she hears in voices who respond. With the repetition each day, students report noticing more and more as the week goes on. They anticipate the question, and it begins to shape their awareness. As the class ends, she invites students to continue asking themselves this question each morning; she encourages her readers to do the same.
I am struck by how this inquiry can offer a routine and encourage a habit of noticing. This becomes a pattern to shape our awareness and our days. As Annie Dillard wisely reminds us, “How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.”



As I speak with friends, I am grateful for others who share ways they establish life-giving routines that pattern their days. One friend wakes early and begins each day with a book of poetry before turning to the news.
Time spent in nature is another grounding rhythm. Noting signs of Spring and photographing flowers and trees in bloom are practices that ground me each day.
I would love to hear from you too, what practices or routines are life giving for you? How do they help you find your own pattern for your days?
The rhythm of writing and sharing twice a month is a nourishing pattern for me. I am grateful for all who read and respond. Thank you for being a part of creative community through this newsletter.
With a grateful heart,
Kathryn



Just pausing to notice my dogs’ eyelashes or teeth. Listening to the birds. Dreaming about flowerbeds. Covering the little peony starts to protect them from frost. Slowly working on a new quilt, touching each piece of fabric. Beauty is everywhere.
Gorgeous photos, Kathryn! And I love the story of the teacher who asked that question about noticing beauty every day.