Preparing to fly


I’m in such an in-between place at the moment. I sense enormous change coming down the wires, but it’s not here yet, and it’s all I can do not to set my house on fire. I’d love to be one of those authors who confidently promotes her book with a camera-worthy smile and a word-perfect elevator pitch, but the truth is I’m feeling extremely nervous. And exposed. Pre-ordered books have started to go out, and last week I had my first sleepless night, my heart racing despite my best attempts to calm down. I honestly hadn’t realised I was this nervous. I try to shrug it off, but it doesn’t work.

I’m pulling together my plans for the tour but most of the time I haven’t a clue what I’m doing, so I just make it up as i go along. I’ll be out of the country for a month and it would be great if I could just GET ON THE PLANE ALREADY because the anticipation is killing me. I’m excited to meet everyone on the tour, at the Creative Joy retreat, at the World Domination Summit… and I’m praying my visa comes through in time.

And then there’s the other stuff, the private stuff I don’t feel comfortable sharing here. And that’s a first for me, having spent the last six years spilling my guts all over the internet. Suffice it to say I’m very tempted to start an anonymous dating blog.

I’ve spent the last 3.5 years building my business and shaping my dreams. I postponed having a social life so I could sink deeper into writing the book. And now? Now I suddenly want to be as far away from my laptop as I can possibly be. I want to LIVE, out loud, out in the world. This has been building over the last six months or so and now I can’t push it back down.

I don’t want to push it back down.

I’ve out-grown this life, this flat, this city, and all the previous expectations I had and I’m craving the challenge of the new and unexplored. But right now it’s a waiting game, and it’s making me a little nuts.

So, yes, lots of change coming. Lots of new ways of being. Lots of plans. Lots of fears. Lots of discomfort.

And, luckily, lots of blind hope, too.

Ode to a life I do not yet have

There are times when the ache overwhelms my ability
to read, to reason, to be still.
It runs from my womb into my heart, a central
Iine that will spark and snap like a cheap box of sparklers
if you cut me open.
There are times when I wonder if it’s this ache
that will carry me forward into the future,
a time filled with Sunday papers and country lanes
and cousins playing with tractors and string
in my sister’s garden.
That the ache exists for a reason,
not only to plague me in the quiet times, but to
keep my faith —
to help me believe.
There are times when I believe so hard,
my own private church of one, that believes,
oh how I believe,
that all is possible if I just
want it enough.
And then there are times like today, when it all
feels so far away and I swallow down
the ache with gulps of black coffee and let myself
fall into my work — my one safe place — while hoping
I have no dreams tonight.

[This poem first appeared on Bentlily.com – thank you, Samantha, for inviting me into your lovely space. Create your own poem over here!]

Sometimes I’m sitting here

Sometimes I'm sitting here | SusannahConway.com
Sometimes I’m sitting here writing or procrastinating or whatever it is i’m doing and a song will start playing that taps into all that’s churning in my heart and i can’t stop the tears from coming and i feel all that happened in the past and all that will happen in the future and everything that is here now and my empathy or projection or i don’t even know what it is but it just sweeps over me like a tidal wave and my face is wet with tears because i’m thinking about my nephew or my mum or lost love or that i didn’t walk my dog enough or that i just want to be kissed because what else is there but love and i just bloody feel so much even when i want to just get on with my work it’s sitting here in my heart this wanting this regret this hope this awareness of all of it all the time yet hidden but then the damn song starts playing and whooooosh it’s up in my head in my heart and now running down my cheeks as big fat tears.

The gift of community


The internet is so bloody brilliant. I know there’s a lot of crap floating around out there on the interwebs — a LOT of crap — but there is also so much GOOD. I’m so grateful to be alive now, in this era. I’m sure in 50 years there’ll be stuff happening that will blow my mind, and I’ll be an 89-year-old auntie marvelling at what my great-niece or -nephew can do with… god, with what? The power of their eyeballs? The power of their thoughts? Can you imagine?!

I’m feeling the love today because we’re nearly at the end of week two in my newest course, and so far it’s been amazing. And it’s not just the content of the course (which I’m very proud of) or the blog posts that are being born — it’s also the way the participants rally round each other in support and shared learning. We’re using a private Facebook group to connect but I see this happening in the Flickr groups we use in my other courses too. When I started blogging I connected with people slowly, leaving comments here and there and participating in a few group projects (Sunday Scribblings is still going!) but I’d have loved to participate in online classes if they’d been around back then. It’s like finding an instant community of like-minded folk. It’s like finding your tribe. Which is why I love doing this work — you teach what you need to learn, and in turn find what you were seeking.

I don’t often talk about the courses here, just because it would get boring if I was constantly banging on about them, but today I just wanted to let you know that if you were looking for community, and had your eye on any of my virtual babies, registration for Unravelling and Photo Meditations opens on Saturday. After this run I won’t be offering the courses again till the autumn as I need to keep the summer free for the book tour* (<—– still tickles me to write that) so come join us for some springtime connection and community! xo

* re the tour, lovely Lucinda mentioned on Facebook yesterday that my book signings could also be like informal Unravelling meet-ups, which is exactly how I’d like them to be. And obviously you don’t have to have taken the class to come along — just think of it as an opportunity to meet like-minded folk. With a few books lying around. And possibly cupcakes. As soon as I have the dates I’ll share them here — the tour will be completely self-funded so I can’t go to too many places, but it’s looking like the cities will be:

Boston
Providence
NYC
Portland, OR
LA or Santa Barbara (maybe both)
San Francisco
Vancouver
Toronto

I really hope to see you there!