For The Journey

Some thoughts on failure and success.

Dear ones,

I have a confession to make.

By most people’s standards my first book would probably be considered a complete failure.

It’s now been a year since I received the book in its final form: poems that poured from fresh wounds immortalised in ink and bound so beautifully that I shed tears when I tore open the box that contained them. The months that have passed since then feel more like a lifetime. Some of those books have made their way out into the world. Some remain in the same box they arrived in, sat on top of my wardrobe. Pretty covers gathering dust, words within waiting to be devoured by hungry eyes and hearts.

It's a shame because this book is so much more than a vanity project. I write for many reasons, but looking back on this particular season of my life I can see that I was taking my pain and braiding it into something both powerful and beautiful. It took a great deal of courage to translate the ravaged internal landscapes I was traversing into something tangible. And as I mapped my heartbreak, my healing and everything in between I learned an invaluable lesson: we must tend to ourselves before we can truly mend.

In times of turmoil, it can seem safer to force ourselves to detach from our feelings. Writing this book taught me so much: it brought me home to my body, it helped me embrace the wisdom each emotion holds, and it reminded me that softness is as essential as strength. But beyond that, it helped me to recognise that if we are to build resilience, we must first resensitize. For me, this looked like being brave enough to welcome the sensations I had spent years suppressing. Poem after poem, I paved my way towards a new way of being in the world, slowly shapeshifting into the woman I was born to become.

With all this in mind I am more than willing to set aside the standard metrics of success, to take the time to redefine success on my own terms. Embarking on this project enabled me to sow the seeds of self-belief, but it also humbled me in many ways too. It showed me where I was still seeking external validation, and it created the opportunity for a long overdue conversation with my inner critic. A conversation that has changed the course of my life. In situations such as these a simple shift in perspective makes all the difference. I may not know a lot about material success, but I have learned a little something about liberation.

Those aforementioned wounds have since faded to scar. This morning I sat and read For The Journey cover to cover to find that its words and the memories they evoke no longer sting the way they once did. They still ring true but they land differently. Tenderly. I realise now that everything I write will irrevocably change me, if only in some small way. For the woman I am today that feels like enough in itself.

And so, to celebrate the one-year anniversary of this little book and the fulfilment I found in the process of writing it, I have decided to offer the remaining copies at half price (£5.50) over on my website. Each copy will arrive beautifully gift wrapped, topped with a sprig of lavender and a little handwritten surprise. You can order yours here, and if you’re feeling generous perhaps you might even grab one for a poetry loving friend.

If you’re still not quite sure, you’ll find the Spotify playlist I spent far too long curating below. These songs were chosen to capture not only the essence of the book itself but also to echo the thoughts and feelings that I believe any woman who has made the journey home to herself will have experienced. Wishing you a weekend filled with all things soft and sweet.

With Love,

Laura x