The Hardest Pose

... and a few other good things | April 2023 Newsletter

I’m in what will be our final standing pose—utkatasana—and my thighs are shaking. 

“Three more breaths,” the yoga instructor calls out, “Can you get lower? 

I force myself an inch lower into the squat, even though my legs are burning and all I want to do is stand up, or bend forward, or do anything to get out of this pose. A single bead of sweat drips down my temple. 

Two more breaths.

I inhale. Exhale. Remind myself shavasana is coming.

One more breath. 

“Forward fold!” the instructor calls out. The entire class sighs in relief. We hinge at the hips and fling our chests toward our thighs, folding our bodies in half like a row of collapsing strollers. A brief second of rest. Then, down to the mats we go for a series of floor poses: pigeon, bridge, a few varieties of seated twists. Finally, it’s time. The lights dim, the music comes to a stop.

The instructor asks us to slow down our breath, settle into the ground, and then says matter-of-factly, “Did you know that shavasana is actually the hardest pose?” 

I almost smirk, remembering how long it took me to master crow pose. I still can’t do side crow without toppling over, and I am nowhere near being able to do a headstand. 

Shavasana? The hardest pose? The one where you basically take a three-minute nap? 

She walks slowly through the maze of bodies on the floor and pauses when she gets near my head, as if she knows I’m the one who needs to hear what she is about to say. Aside from the soft hum of cars driving outside, the room is completely silent.

“Shavasana is the hardest pose because you are doing nothing,” she continues, pausing for dramatic effect.

“Do you know how hard it is to do nothing?”

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The tulips are finally blooming. Signs of spring are popping up everywhere in our neighborhood, little glimpses of much-needed hope after what has felt like the longest winter ever.

The book launch has come and gone. Create Anyway is officially out in the world—tucked inside diaper bags, dogeared on kitchen counters, sitting on nightstands beside cups of lukewarm coffee.

Suddenly those words about shavasana being the hardest pose feel truer than ever.

I am slowly coming down off the high of launch week, the intensity and adrenaline of the last three months. And even though the new white space on my calendar feels like a relief of sorts, there is simultaneously a fog of disorientation permeating the background. I have been in go-go-go mode for all of 2023. Hustling. Bustling. Writing and podcasting and trying to figure out how to promote my book on social media without being annoying. And now that I can actually sit down, be still, think thoughts again, dream dreams again — I’m finding there is a very real part of me that is fighting the urge to Keep Doing Something.

I keep checking my email, checking my to-do lists, checking my wall of post-it notes. Surely I’m missing something? I’ve got stuff to do, of course, but the new pace in front of me—the pace of April, the pace of stopping to photograph tulips blooming in the neighbor’s yard—feels almost uncomfortably slow. Unproductive. Lacking in some way.

I’m realizing how much easier it is to do something, even when the something you’re doing is strenuous and exhausting and causing your legs to shake. There’s something comforting in making an effort—probably because making an effort leads you to believe you’re in control of the outcome.

It’s a lot harder to trust, to surrender, to let the chips fall where they may. It’s a lot harder to accept that you've done all you can do. It’s a lot harder to continue deleting Instagram every other week, and simply pray the dandelion seeds keep flying.

But here we are.

It’s April. The book is out, the sun is shining, and the tulips are blooming in all their glory. Shavasana.

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A Few Other Good Things:

My best friend

Katie Blackburn

wrote a little tribute to Create Anyway and yes I *sobbed* reading it. Related: we also talk about how Katie became a photographer in this podcast episode.

“But if literal light isn’t working with you today, listen to your creative heart. Choose the flavors that sing to you. Find a pretty glass. Grab a little something from the fridge for a garnish. Or maybe you simply need to put on some music that makes you feel alive. It’s all creative.” // from A Cocktail To Celebrate Create Anyway by

Rachel Nevergall

— one of the most creative women I know. (You should definitely be following her online if you’re not already.) I made this cocktail last week and it was *chef’s kiss* spectacular.

Our Coffee + Crumbs spring collection is live (!!). I repeat: THE SPRING COLLECTION IS LIVE. This is an entirely new format for C+C, and we hope you love it, eek! ❤️

Beautiful books launching this month that I read and loved: All Who Are Weary by Sarah Hauser (endorsed!), So God Made a Mother by Leslie Means (I wrote the afterword!), and The Life Council by Laura Tremaine (she’ll be on the C+C podcast soon, yay!).

I ran out of time to make a fresh playlist, but here are five songs from last April if you need some jams to keep you company while you wash dishes.

Real talk: is there anything better than receiving a gift that is so perfectly … you? A few friends got me these gold stacking rings stamped with “peace” and “confidence”—and I have worn them every day since opening the box. Truly, one of my favorite gifts I’ve received in a long time.

I ordered this dress for my book launch party (+Easter) and cannot say enough good things about it. Flirty ruffles! Shows off the back! Has pockets! Winner, winner.

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In Case You Missed It:

Note: Please forgive the overindulgence of shameless plugs in this newsletter. I don’t normally link this much of my own work, but a lot of what I’ve been working on for the past three months finally went live. Next month we’ll be back to regular programming, promise!

“Love the act of writing more than you love the dream of publishing. Devotion to the craft will carry and sustain you for the long haul.” // from my Q+A with Hannah Brencher

“I want my children to know me, and not just the version of me who vacuums a lot and grocery shops and shuffles them to and from school. I want my children to know the version of me who aches to put words on a page, who notices when flowers are growing in the cracks of sidewalks.” // from my Q+A with Modern Witnesses

I had so much fun pulling together this book roundup for Zibby Mag.

“Here’s what I will remember about the day Presley found a dead possum in the yard: my daughter came to me, visibly upset, and I blew her off. In response, she grabbed a piece of paper and made art.” // from my latest essay for Coffee + Crumbs, That Really Happened

“Every good thing I’ve ever made has the fingerprints of other women on it. And I’m starting to believe that is by God’s design.” // from A Reflection on Creating and Community for Risen Motherhood

“The older and more independent my children grow, the harder it is to release them out into this big, scary world. I want to keep them close, wrapped in bubble wrap, right here under this roof where I can keep them safe. And yet—this is the work of parenting. We pray. We trust. We let go. Rinse, repeat. Writing often feels the same.” // from my Q+A with Lisa Hensley

“Rather, motherhood and creativity ran together like two rivers becoming one, a confluence of scribbles and spit-up, love and art, wild ambition and sleepless nights.” // from the March

Coffee + Crumbs

newsletter, On Wanting To Have Everyfing

I have also been on … a lot of podcasts lately. I don’t want to spam you with all the links, but if you search my name in your podcast app, you’ll likely find a bunch.

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Happy April, friends! I hope you are starting to see more sunshine than rain (Lord, let it be so!), and enjoying the longer daylight hours.

P.s. Friendly reminder that I wrote a book and it’s officially available at Target stores as of this week (!). Great time to stock up for baby showers, Mother’s Day, etc 😉

P.s.s. If you read Create Anyway and loved it, would you consider leaving a five-star review wherever you purchased the book? Taking two minutes to leave an online review is an easy, breezy, free way to support my work, and can often persuade buyers who are on the fence. Thank you x a million. ❤️