Hello, again!

It's been a little while...

You might be wondering what this “Daring to Delight” newsletter is, suddenly dropping into your inbox unannounced. If you once subscribed to my Back Patio newsletter, or, an eon ago, to posts on my blog that was called “Graceful,” that’s probably how we’ve connected in the past. I’ll say this up front: feel free to unsubscribe if yet another newsletter isn’t for you right now. Time and space and needs and desires change — I get it!

But if you’re curious, I invite you to stay to see what “Daring to Delight” is all about. We’ll discover together along the way, because I’ll be honest, I don’t really know where all this might go!

In case you need a refresher, hi! I’m Michelle. In my previous life I published five books (you can find them here), as well as lots of articles, blog posts and monthly newsletters. It was a beautiful, fruitful season of creativity. And then, after 10 years as a freelance writer, it became clear to me that it was time for a change. Last August I accepted a job as a communications and events coordinator for an environmental non-profit here in Lincoln, Nebraska. Our mission is to plant trees and gardens and help Nebraskans learn how to create sustainable landscapes of their own. I absolutely love it! I’m 53 years old and have held a half dozen writing jobs in my professional life (all of which have grown me as a writer and a person in their own unique ways), but this job is my sweet spot for sure.

Recently though, I’ve been feeling a creative urge burbling up again, which is surprising. When I closed down my newsletter last October, I figured I was done with public personal narrative writing forever. But…maybe not? A couple of weeks ago, I picked up Elizabeth Gilbert’s book Big Magic — one of my favorite books on creative living — and something I read there really resonated me. She was quoting poet Jack Gilbert (no relation to Elizabeth), who wrote, “We must risk delight. We must have the stubbornness to accept our gladness in the ruthless furnace of this world.”

I wrote the quote in my journal, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it, even days later. The truth is, I’m not sure I know what delights me. Where do I find delight? What does delight feel like to me? Do I intentionally seek delight, or do I even notice when I am, in fact, delighted by something?

I didn’t have any answers to those questions, and the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to know. I wondered if perhaps I put a bit too much emphasis on duty in my life (I am, after all, a Type A, Enneagram 3, results- and responsibility-focused kind of person!). What would it look like, and feel like, I wondered, to intentionally choose delight over duty — at least occasionally? When I asked myself that question, I felt a little spark ignite inside me. I was curious. I wanted to find out.

So here we are. Daring to Delight. I told my husband, Brad, recently that I don’t know what I know until I write my way through it. Writing helps me notice, and it helps me uncover what I think and what I feel. If I didn’t write, I would simply skate across the surface of my life, fulfilling one task and duty after the other, ticking boxes on my never-ending to-do list, never dipping below to peer into a deeper place. Even over the past year, when I wasn’t writing publicly, I have been a faithful journaler, scratching my thoughts into a notebook in the early morning hours before it’s time to get ready for work.

I decided to make Daring to Delight a public endeavor for two reasons. One, because writing publicly offers accountability and will help me be more intentional about this practice of delight (and maybe some of you will join me in this pursuit?). And two, because I have missed the communal aspect of writing over the past year. Journaling is fruitful, but it can be a bit of an echo chamber amid all those lined pages.

That said, I do want to state here at the outset that this newsletter may be a little loosey-goosey. My goal is to release a reflection once a month, but I make no promises! My job ebbs and flows into busy and less busy seasons, so there may be months that I just don’t have the mental bandwidth to write outside of work. Also, I know there is a comment function here at Substack, and while I love that (just like the old blogging days!), I don’t know that I’ll always be present to respond (though I do promise to read any and all comments that appear here).

So that’s it for now. I’m excited to be here and excited for you to join me in this pursuit of delight as you are able. As Ross Gay writes in his lovely Book of Delights, “The more you study delight, the more delight there is to study.”

Let’s dare to delight together.