How are You, really? A Stream of Consciousness Swinging on Mind-Ribbons

& and offering up a 108-word story about butterfly migration

This is not the story I thought I’d be typing on one of my two “big working weekends” that I have left before my husband returns to his next 6 (!!!) credit hour class for his bachelor’s program.

I thought I would be able to write a poignant post on how my transition to becoming an author is both beautiful and wrecking me (see: go after your dreams but also wake with your heart pounding on what you’re about to reveal about yourself to the world whilst accepting a desperate season of sad sleepless nights into your rotation and feel like you’re letting your family and friends down as you hunker over your laptop to do “one more thing”…judging by their sighs, they know, and you know, there are many more things to go! Also, don’t seem like you're complaining because you’re getting your dream, so don’t let anyone know how hard this is). Do you sense the trouble here?

So, I will allow a stream-of-consciousness because writing through (life, etc) is how I figure it out. You might be one of those write-through-it-sorts, too.

Also, my brain and my emotions are super loud these days.

Anyone else?

Disclaimer 1: I’m already slightly cringing about posting this, but it will help me process. Right now, that is reason enough.

Disclaimer 2: As weird as it may sound, I want to remember this part. The part where I felt I couldn’t do anymore and didn’t feel like I knew what I was doing, but I didn’t give up and did it anyway.

Disclaimer 3: A 108-word story about butterflies is nestled at the end. You can scroll past this madness and go straight there if necessary. I get it.

FINAL Disclaimer 4: I once heard men process information like walking down a long hallway. They open a door, think their thought, hear the conversation, take it in, walk out, close the door, and proceed. Sorry if this is untrue, men of the world.

This source, sorry, I can’t remember who, also explained that women process and talk through things like a winding staircase with giant colored ribbons hanging down through the center. They can jump up to the staircase railing, swing across to a new ribbon, and then another. But the point is, they can keep swinging along together, following the plot. Where I might wish I was a hallway with organized doors and rooms, alas— I am a mind full of ribbons.

I’m trying to help you understand that many ribbons are about to start spiraling. Here we go.

Ribbon 1: I compose a monthly creativity email for the Work of Words Waitlist. Work of Words is a workshop I collaborated on with Legacy Magazine, and it creates a safe space for serving families and veterans to work through their narratives. Want to join this email list and get a cool creative prompt every month? You can, even if you aren’t related to military life (Don’t mind me; I am working on subtly plugging things like a good author should/would).

Despite all the changes we’ve endured over the past few years, I’ve released the creativity email fairly consistently (unlike the dusty Mailchimp list I STILL need to find access to). This past month, I offered the prompt, “How are you, really?” emphasizing the really. It’s the really that gets heavy. It’s the really that provides a pause to who we’re asking the question to. With one word, we make space to hear what’s really going on.

*I’m really okay. But I’m also not.

I’m really excited to release my book (please don’t take me for whining about it!), but I also have to admit I’m a BEGINNER again. I’ve never launched a book before. Talking about the book, showing up more regularly on socials, and pitching myself to all the places is also starting to feel really exhausting. And we’re still at t-minus three months until the official launch date. I don’t know how I can keep up unless I really start prioritizing rest. Do I remember what rest looks like? I don’t know. But what I’m doing now to “rest” isn’t cutting it.

Ribbon 2: I finalized the cover this week with the publisher! When I opened the final proof, I wept. It’s beautiful, intentional, and calm with great energy—precisely what I hoped for in a cover. I can’t wait to show you.

Ribbon 3: I was a guest on a podcast this week, which went well. I am excited to keep making connections and look differently at every launch team or kind word of mouth I’ve shared over the past few years. It matters. It matters to have someone say “yes” to help you put your project out in the world. I know we can’t say “yes” to every request that comes our way, but when we can, gosh, it not only helps spread the word but gives that artist/author/person in need a boost of confidence to keep at their craft.

Ribbon 4: I dream of going old school with a book launch team + blog hop. Can I make time for that?! How fun would that be?!

Ribbon 5: The book comes out right as Ryan cools down from the Marine Corps. While he doesn’t officially hit his “EAS” (end of active service date) until September 2025, we’re inundated with choices we must make now.

We scheduled his retirement ceremony for May, and my book launch party will happen the next day because our extended family will be in town already. It makes practical sense and is excellent timing, but it also makes me want to puke.

Ribbon 6: Marines wear green undershirts under camouflage “cami” uniforms. As I was folding one of the green T-shirts the other day, I burst into tears. I calculated that I had about 6 months of folding green undershirts left. That surprised me, too. I don’t know what to do with these random, compressed feelings bursting forth.

I’m both relieved and holding grief. Who are we without this military life? What is it like to not worry about him going away on deployments? I don’t know. Will I still buzz Ryan’s hair on Sunday evenings? What happens if we stay here in Texas? What does it mean to stay somewhere longer than 2-3 years? Will the friends I’ve made here stay my friends? What assurance do I have that it will all be okay…???

Ribbon 7: I had a long talk on the couch last night with my daughter, Evelyn, after watching Wicked. I listened to her thoughts on “the state of the world” from her 10-year-old perspective, and the only thing I could think of was to reference Olaf in Frozen 2. I told her, “Do you remember how Olaf sings, ‘This will all make sense when I am older?’ unfortunately, I haven’t found that to be true.” To which she replied, “Yeah. That stinks.”

Ribbon 8: See Ribbon 6, but apply it to the world at large: “What assurance do I have that it will all be okay?”

Ribbon 9: If you made it this far, thanks for reading.

Ribbon 10: It feels wild and arbitrary and necessary to release a book about clinging to what matters most amidst constant change. That’s exactly what my book, Holding On and Letting Go: A Life in Motion, features, utilizing stories from our life as an active-duty military family. Releasing May 6th, 2025 (!) Preorder info coming soon (!!).

Remember the 108-word story I promised? I wrote it in a workshop led by

Sonya Spillmann

in the Exhale creative community. We’ll end this stream of consciousness by leaping to one final ribbon. Imagine it has butterflies on it.

Will this all be worth it?

I hope so.

How are YOU, really?

Above photo by Rachel Handley on Unsplash