Greetings, friends!
Recently I started going through some boxes of old papers that had been hanging out in a shed far too long. I found—glory be!—a stack of childhood journals that I had given up for lost, along with notebooks full of stories that I began writing almost as soon as I could hold a pencil.
What was I writing about? Paging through these old stories and essays, I discovered that as a child, I was writing to honor and record my deep connection to the natural world, which I recognized as fragile and under threat.
I wrote to spend time in my imagination with the horses I loved but was rarely able to spend time with in real life. And I wrote in the fierce awareness that creativity has the power to make the world better.
As a child, I already knew that the natural world was being terribly disrupted by human activity.
As the years have gone by, I’ve been all too aware of how our planetary life support systems are heating up and spinning out of control, setting off imbalances that affect our individual physical and mental health as well.
Knowing this, what do I do?
We who are aware of the fragility of these transition times—the poisoning of the air, water and earth; the dangerous weather extremes that are becoming our new normal; the rapid and tragic disappearance of species; the pervasive sickness of human mind, body and spirit—what should we do with our knowledge? What should we do with our precious time?
I think I knew the answer to this as a child, when I spent every moment I could wandering outside communing with nature, alone or with my dog, on foot or on horseback when I could. And when I wasn't out in the woods, I was channeling my great love of nature and animals into my writing.
Me by the “grandmother tree” that I still love to visit.
What I understand now is that this practice of writing about what we love has real power. As Margaret Atwood put it, "a word after a word after a word is power."
For all the chaos and heartache of our time, one thing that we do very well in the 21st century is give people new ways to connect their words and pull their individual ideas together into movements with the power to change the world.
It is true that we live in a time of passionate intensities, where hatred can circulate and gain momentum just as powerfully as love.
We live in a time when words like freedom and courage are often used as code words for carnage.
I want to reclaim those clarion words for the critical mission of our time: to bring humans back into a balanced relationship with our environment, so that all members of the Earth community can flourish.
That is what is means to be a worldwright: to write in any form—poetry or prose, fiction or nonfiction—with the aim of sharing perspectives and stories that will help us understand ourselves and our world better, so that we can live more intentional and harmonious lives.
In writing to right the world, I write out of love and in celebration of the creative spirit that has given rise to our beautiful planetary home, which I long so ardently to protect and nurture.
Nova Scotia fox neighbor.
As more of us engage in this practice of writing to right the world, even if only in the privacy of our own notebooks, the psychic momentum will build, quickly becoming an unstoppable force.
We have no time to lose.
The wild ones are looking to us to make things right and we can't let them—or ourselves—down.
Come out into the creative meadow and dance with me, friends. Step into your own power and become worldwright you were born to be.
Coming up:
I’ll be off RIDING & WRITING in Iceland in a couple of weeks—follow me on Facebook for photos from this fabulous adventure as it unfolds!
Me in Iceland, summer 2022. I knew I had to go back ASAP!
You can check out my album from Riding & Writing at Il Paretaio in Tuscany here, and my memoir retreat with Il Chiostro at San Fedele here. I expect to run all of these trips again next May/June—if you’re interested let me know and I’ll add you to my notify list!
I’ll be announcing my fall online and in-person workshop and event schedule soon, but in the meantime here are a couple of opportunities you might want to add to your calendar.
September 15, 2023, Honoring Our Plant & Animal Teachers: A Writing Workshop in the Woods.
I’m teaming up with the marvelous wilderness educator Tes Reed to offer a day of writing and exploration in her home forest in New Marlborough MA. We’d love to have you join us! All the details are here.
January 7 – 13, 2024, Riding & Writing in Portugal!
I’m bringing a small group to the world-class dressage stable and “equo-resort” Monte Velho, in the Alentejo hills about 90 minutes outside of Lisbon. No, you don’t have to be a world-class rider to enjoy and benefit from the experience of taking lessons on well-trained horses with caring, encouraging instructors. We’ll have fun with daily exploratory writing sessions and savor this beautiful region together. More information and registration here.
Writing to the right the world can and should be FUN! As we lighten our own spirits, we brighten the world around us and energize ourselves and others for the important work we’re here to do. I’m here for you! Let me know how I can support you in your creative journey.
Yours in the cosmic dance,
Jennifer
PS: I just wrote a short essay about what being a worldwright is all about. You can find it here.
He’s counting on us….
I was going to comment that you wrote in your notebook as a child was amazingly prescient. But the I thought no, it was actually obvious even then (and much earlier) to anyone paying attention, as you were. I try to remain heartened by the fact that so many more people now are paying attention. To co-opt Margaret Atwood's phrase, "an act after an act after an act is change." I hope we are headed there!