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House of 49 Doors: Entries in a Life

by Laurie Klein 31 Chiming In

House of 49 Doors is here!

House of 49 Doors

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thank you, friends, for your prayers!

As with any vast project finally completed despite the odds, a recap might hearten us all amid our current — and coming — ventures.

January 2016:

Note to self: Another book? Never. Dodge — no, shun . . .

  • that ego trap
  • that marathon of minutiae
  • that +10 score on the poet pain scale

July 2022:

The email pings: an editor I admire.

“Dear Laurie:
I would be pleased to review another manuscript.”

Oh dear. No matter our field of endeavor, whenever we risk nurturing a new “brainchild,” insecurities clamor. Who am I to try? Or, Too little, too late. Too old. Too costly. (Read, Get out while you can.)

“Send it on when you’re ready.”

Did I have a book’s-worth of poems in me? Not likely. I felt steamrolled by politics, aging, loved ones in crisis, shocking weather, the state of my floors . . .

I missed the good ole days.

Hang on . . . I could resurrect the quasi-magical house of my childhood. The one with the turquoise door. Coax out my kid-self.

Would she talk on the page?

July 2022 – January 2024:

She did. As if awaiting my summons.

I named her Kid Larkin.

Eldergirl, sixty years her senior, replied. At times, the two voices entwined, mutually probing memory’s alchemy.

If poetry seems alarming, be not dismayed. House of 49 Doors unfolds like a story. Or a memoir. (If it didn’t sound so daft, I’d call it a novel-ish poemoir.)

A lot of words did NOT make the cut. The ones that did bear witness to wonder . . . threaded within and around a trauma I’d hoped to never relive.

Which sounds grim. Revived delights abound. The house speaks, with a shapely, three-story voice. The backyard muskrat expounds on family life. A menacing garfish models self-esteem. Even a maligned vesper bat chimes in via echolocation.

Turns out they all knew things I needed to read . . . so I could heal.

Most of the poems locate themselves on the premises or in beloved rooms. Hence, my title:

House of 49 DoorsMy intrepid sister located the circa-1950s photo of our house, taken by our long-ago neighbor, Lester Smith. She also double-checked the door count with me. (Try this with a sibling! Decant the memories . . .) Enhanced by masterful artist, Shannon Carter, the cover beautifully captures the enigma of shadows and shelter.

To revisit three years in that wondrous house made me willing to look when Kid Larkin insisted on excavating a family secret: the story of my childhood hero, beloved Uncle Dunkel, an army vet whose inborn joie d’vivre valiantly resisted his post-war death wish . . .

Until it didn’t.

And I was told too much, then told to keep it secret.

Sixty years later, Eldergirl finally let herself feel emotions long-denied. Such are the cathartic gifts of time, distance, grace. Art.

Is this part of putting one’s house in order?

Friends, I have glimpsed God’s interventions as never before.

“New every morning,” Dreamer recently quipped, quoting Lamentations.

In my head, though, I heard Kid Larkin: Shazam! YOU are new every morning.

You. Me. Each of us an ever-glowing, work-in-promise.

Paul’s verb choice in Ephesians 5:18b can be translated, “Be ye, being filled with the Spirit.”

So how about Be ye, being . . . made new?

Amid devastation there moves an unforeseen grace: the Great Mystery at work — even among the skeletons in our closets.

Is there a “next endeavor” we’re resisting?

Dare we take on a project too big for us?

Years ago, Oliver Wendell Holmes warned, “Many people die with their music still in them.”

Some will do best within a controlled sphere: perhaps in the wings, at work, or privately, in transit, or at home. Some will go public. It’s costly to translate part of oneself into a separate entity, then send it forth. We face evaluation by strangers. No matter the venue, the creator’s heart . . . still breakable. The proffered work . . . un-take-back-able.

Risky.

BUT it’s (still) a new year. You are newly new.

Friends, how will you put your house in order?

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February 28, 2024:

House of 49 Doors published Leap Day Eve. Which seems fitting.

It still makes me grin. And cry. It helped me heal. It might help others. That’s why I mention it. Should you wish to explore it further, there’s currently a 40% discount available only from my publisher. Here’s the link. Click BUY, Select your country, Click add coupon,” type in DOORS. https://wipfandstock.com/9798385208067/house-of-49-doors/

And here’s the link on Amazon.

Buy from Amazon

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Filed Under: Immersions Tagged With: be ye being filled, brainchild, Eldergirl, House of 49 Doors, Kid Larkin, putting one's house in order March 13, 2024

525,600 Minutes

by Laurie Klein 16 Chiming In

525,600 minutes

525, 600 minutes. Friends, how will we measure life this year?

Every day I hear “Seasons of Love,” by songwriter Jonathan Larson, pose that question. Poignant theme, catchy tune.

The little earworm with a big heart.

Dreamer has it on loop, so he can rehearse it. He and our oldest daughter will be auditioning for an ensemble within the Whitworth Community Chorale. We’ll all sing this April at the swankiest venue in town.

To perform again with our girl . . . in our seventies — the so-called exit-lane, I mean, on-ramp years (because . . . heaven, right?) — bowls me over.

For now, my seasons of love are earthbound, and I hold these fleeting moments dear.

525,600 minutes . . . The musical groove replays. Caught up in the syncopation, I have a mini-epiphany: it’s Leap Year; we have 527, 000 minutes!

Remember that small discrepancy between global calendars and earth’s orbit around the sun? A measly quarter-hour difference, over decades, will throw off the seasons. Think crops. Holidays. Travel schedules. Nearly every four years, we have to adjust.

We are making up for lost time.

How? A full day: sheer windfall.

I’m planning a day-treat — more doable on short notice than a personal retreat. If I schedule it in the next couple weeks, I’ll join almost 5 million “leaplings” (those born on February 29) as they prepare for the quasi-rarified observance of their birth.

So much constellates around that idea: birth . . .

Why not re-sync with the heavens?

Choose an ordinary day to reenter the timeless, friends — one spacious enough to absorb the “awe behind the obvious” as Rick Rubin puts it.

I enjoy shifting artfully numbered wood blocks on my universal calendar. “All my times are in your hands,” I murmur, as the new numeral faces front. I’ll start my day-treat there.

I might page through old albums. Lately, God is reviving my past (a kind of retrofitting, perhaps?), bringing the trusted model up to date.

I’ll lean into my favorite breath prayer throughout the day (see below).

Turns out the word “inspiration,” from the Latin inspirare, means “to breathe life into.” Notice that last syllable: rare? A definition far older than I am translates inspirare as “the immediate influence of the divine.”

Time is more layered than we think. Unresolved questions lurk there, often skewing our current worldview. I could write a book about that. And did (update below).

Plan your day-treat or, if you prefer, wake up and be deliciously spontaneous each given hour.

Grab a candle. Strike a match. Allow that brief singe and flare to usher you somewhere.

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Friends, share one thing you’d love to do on your day-treat . . .

Trinity Wick Breath Prayer: from the archives.

Paced for the cadence of a relaxed breath, pray the first half of each line on the inhale; the second half on the exhale. watch for what kindles within.

(inhale) Holy God: (exhale) commune with me
Perfect Love: suffuse me
Light of the World: illumine me

(extinguish match to the following words)

Three-in-One . . . I, in Thee
Here am I, use me

“Seasons of Love,” by Jonathan Larson (525,600 minutes), from the musical Rent

Rick Rubin: The Creative Act: a Way of Being

Photo by Rachael Crowe on Unsplash

Sneak preview, back cover. Might have books in mid-March!

Filed Under: Small Wonders Tagged With: 525600 minutes, awe behind the obvious, House of 49 Doors, inspirare, Leap Year, leaplings, lost time, re-sync with the heavens, timeless, trinity prayer, windfall February 15, 2024

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House of 49 Doors: Entries in a Life

House of 49 Doors: Entries in a Life
Buy This Book Online
Buy from Amazon
House of 49 Doors: Entries in a Life
Buy now!

Where the Sky Opens, a Partial Cosmography

Where the Sky Opens, a Partial Cosmography
Buy This Book Online
Buy from Amazon
Where the Sky Opens, a Partial Cosmography
Buy now!

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