September 15, 2024
Hello You,
I don’t know about you, but this last week flew past my awareness at a crazy pace. (Ah the riotous shift from one season to the next!) Right now I’m feeling a little worn out by it all, but also so very grateful to take a beat to sit and reflect and catch up with my thoughts. It’s my hope that this note will help you do the same.
Searching for Awe
I’m a big fan of the good that comes from noticing everyday magic. From a sweet, stubborn daisy defiantly growing up through a crack in the sidewalk, to the joyful sound of birdsong mingling with a child’s laughter — the world around us is constantly offering up remedies for our weary hearts, if only we take time to embrace them.
Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.
- from "Instructions for Living a Life" by Mary Oliver
That quote from a favourite Mary Oliver poem has long served as the road map I follow when I write. No matter what I’m working on, I’m always doing all I can to capture wonders great and small, and put them on the page.


One exercise I love introducing to my writing students is the concept of taking an “Awe Walk” to help them see the world through fresh eyes. Strolling through our surroundings (whether in a rural or urban setting) I encourage them to take notes on the world around them, on both a macro and micro level. If we’re in the woods or a park, I’ll encourage them to lay on the ground and look at the sky, or sit in a mossy glen and see what creatures they can find inhabiting the same space. I’ll also ask them to close their eyes and listen, and to breathe deeply and smell the air. It’s openness that I’m after, because without it there is no connection — and isn’t “finding paths to connection” what being a storyteller is all about?
Sharing Wonder
Remember this past May when so many people had the magical experience of seeing the Aurora Borealis at the same time? What a night that was! I was lucky enough to be able to sit with my family in lawns chairs on the dirt road in front of our house and gawk at the sky for hours. Curtains of green and pink lights danced and pulsed overhead, and every so often I’d get up and dance along with them, feeling oh so tiny but still completely connected to it all. (Best rave ever!)


Shortly after that experience I came up with the idea of the Notes from Destiny project. I just couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something truly special and important about documenting shared wonder with others, in places where moments of awe happen on the regular. This past week I chose another spot (The Look Off above the Annapolis Valley in Nova Scotia) and I set up my table and typewriter and offered free poems to strangers. I say this sincerely —it was AWESOME. From the four-year-old who called my typewriter “a machine that paints words” and then helped me write a poem about the colours in the Valley below, to the eighty-four year old woman who kindly shared a bounty of life lessons in the time that it took her to eat an espresso flake ice cream cone, it was pure magic.


Closing Thoughts
I guess what I’m saying is that no matter how busy we are or how stuck in the grind we feel, wonder is always there, waiting, and the rewards for finding and sharing it are essential and great. What moments of wonder, large or small, have you experienced lately? The comments on this post are open to everyone this week, so I hope you’ll feel compelled to share your thoughts!
And now for bit of housekeeping…
The FULL MOON is on Tuesday the 17th, so the first Voice of the Moon monthly post will go out to paid subscribers that day. It will include a new Dear Destiny advice column as well as a special Tidewrack Divination. Thanks SO much to all of you who have subscribed to this new chapter in my work, and to all the new subscribers here at The Cure for Longing. It means the world to me.
Until next time, may you find magic and wonder at every turn.
Thank you Ami! Your Notes from Destiny project is world-making … reading about it is my moment of awe for the day 💗
A machine that paints words! That’s my morning bit of awe. The minds of children. I’m constantly trying to get back in touch with that kind of mindset. May the moon be kind to you this week.