Sunday Letter

The Waiting Books

This week, I had a wonderful conversation with our dear friend, Christopher Bamford. I say our friend, because Christopher is one of those rare people who can inspire you through words on a page. Long before I came to work with SteinerBooks, I read his introductions to books as if  I had this great teacher sitting in front of me introducing me to the material.

This week, I am sharing a bit of our chat with all of you with his blessing. Our conversation veered in a new direction as I asked him how he was feeling. For those who are not aware, our dear friend is in a treatment regimen for cancer.

He described a space between understanding and beginning. The time that you are aware of a new protocol and beginning it. I shared with him the story of my father’s cancer journey, or at least the part of that journey I experienced.

We talked about the many faces of our biographies and how we share only parts of those with those in our lives. The cancer patient versus the writer, the cancer patient versus the father.

We spoke about my sharing books with my father over the years and how that selection changed when he was fighting and healing. I remember wondering what waiting books are best to share. The waiting books as I call them to help you pass the time, but also can become a tool in your own recovery and acceptance.

Chris told me that he was rereading Rudolf Steiner’s Autobiography, and with each new reading, he gained a new lesson. The chapters in the course of all of our lives give us a new perspective on life’s experiences and a panoramic view of the activities that led us here.

It is in times of challenge that we turn to the observational practice of looking back at events and remembering them from a sensory perspective instead of the actual image. As I look back at the trading of books with my father, it is the emotions that these memories evoke that are housed in my mind.

Chris shared that we can all learn about our lives through the lens of another's biography. It is this type of book that can bring meaning to our journey through the lens of another.

Reconnecting with the Rituals of Everyday Life

We are all connected, but only when we are following our own intuition and powers of imagination can we tune into that connection. Over the winter, I moved into a new office in town. A small space to work without subjecting my family to quiet times because mommy has a work call. I have always worked from home, but until our move to Wyoming I had a shared work space to escape to, be creative in, and just allow the ideas swirling around in my head a place to land.

I shared a space in a women’s creative collective when we lived in Texas. The women there were photographers, bakers, antique dealers, makeup artists, and yours truly. I took over the old kitchen space that had its prior life as a doctors office and before that a residence for the family who owned the pharmacy downstairs in the early 1900s.

I transformed my space from a kitchen into a workshop, with a farm table for a desk and old doors as a wall, and the kitchen became a place to be inspired with vintage linens, plants, and rusty garden decor. A vintage chandelier illuminated the space in a soft glow.

It became a place that everyone’s clients wanted to meet in to discuss creative projects. You could not help but be pulled into the space. It had a soul. You could feel the love of a space that spent almost a hundred years as the hub of home.

It will not surprise you as members of a connected community, that I received a message from a friend half a world away this week, that simply said “ ...I am feeling something inside of you needing expression…”

I had just started decorating my office earlier that very day. I needed that inspired space from my days at the collective and its energy back around me. I went in search of vintage furniture to bring life to my office. I am always drawn to pieces that have had a life before they reached me.

…I find too often the ideas of transcendence expressed on a cosmic scale rather than a human one, and in language which would need to be translated, or perhaps illuminated, just as ancient psalm books were illuminated by the monks throughout the Middle Ages and the earlier days of the Faith. - Dorothy Day


Our connections to our lives, past and present, often reconnect as we step back in time, and practice the rituals of life. I remember hearing the sound of the sewing machine as my mother created a softer, more beautiful home for all of us, or the sound of the lawn mower knowing my father was hard at work keeping nature in perfect symmetry.

Take time this week to reconnect with the rituals of life housed in your memory. Your efforts will ripple through the world of our connected community.