Carried

Books, Love, Wisdom, Art - and the women who pass them on

Art by Sister Karol Jackowski

I am still not sure where I found the book, or rather, where it found me. What matters is that we found each other.

Mid-80s, I am living in Hawaii in a tiny apartment on the same street as Tom Selleck, who I never managed to catch a glimpse of.

It’s a big chapter of my life, single in my 20s, I am swimming in a blend of freedom and soul searching, much loveliness swirled with regular doses of loneliness. I spend most days on movie or photo sets, applying makeup to famous and less famous noses. I spend more nights dancing than I have in the four decades to follow, as if I know that I must drink from this well before it runs dry. A few months later I am married and this page has turned.

But the book.

Small, blue, and with the words: “10 Fun Things to Do Before You Die” printed on its cover. I have no idea why I picked it up. I was having plenty of fun, and dying was nowhere on my perceived horizon. Still, we met. Me, the small blue book, and its author, “Nun Other than Karol Jackowski.”

Sister Karol Jackowski, a joyful, deep, intelligent, funny and steeped-in-love Catholic nun (who also, mind you, would tackle the Church’s pedophilia scandal in her 2004 book “The Silence We Keep”) put a bookmark in my heart.

I quietly knew she was a gift to my life, even though I was not quite yet ready to unwrap it.

I read The Small Blue Book and more than once, on page 46, I stared at the simple line drawing of a bathtub filled with bubbles. The caption said “There must be quite a few things that a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them." Attributed to Sylvia Plath, the drawing and its words spoke to me, to my body which missed a bubble bath and to my sometimes tender heart, which could have used the hug of hot bubbly water. I did not know then that a hot bath had not been enough to cure what gnawed at Sylvia Plath; all I saw was the homey comfort I yearned for.

In the years that followed, over many moves, The Small Blue Book and I parted ways. I hope it found other hands to hold it, other hearts to love it. Life got busy, I moved back to the mainland, made babies, baked cakes, became single again, did not spend many nights dancing, bumped headlong into my beloved vocation in coaching, and savored many hot baths.

Then one day, before we knew much about podcasts, I decided that I would create a radio show. Raising my children on a small island in the Pacific Northwest (there is a pattern, here), I craved diversity and wanted to talk with people who had lives I knew nothing about. I guess it was my way to travel when I could not even imagine getting on a plane.

I learned all I could about BlogTalkRadio, bought a mic and sent out invitation emails.

During 52 weeks and from the island, I interviewed authors, artists, therapists, people living in vans, famous and less famous people, and trusted that if the conversations delighted me, they could delight others, which it turned out, they did. I never researched much about my guests before the calls because I wanted to be in full curiosity, the way I hoped my listeners would be. I discovered alongside them and asked the questions I thought they might ask. Then I would barely edit the recording and publish it every week. I was not the most polished radio host in the world but I was certainly an eager one and Chez Laura Radio held a few gems.

One of them … can you guess … Sister Karol, of course.

Sister Karol and I spent an hour together on the air, me grateful and curious and she, graceful, funny, wise and delightful.

Then Facebook entered our lives, we became “friends” and kept in touch. When her mom got ill, Sister Karol used to write frequent posts she would title “Shit My Mom Says.” Each post made me smile and send a quiet thank you for her being in my life.

A couple of months ago, I felt the need to hold The Small Blue Book again. I don’t know whether I wanted to get in touch with the-me-of-long-ago or just drink in its sweet wisdom with my new eyes. I asked Karol if she would get me a copy via sending it to a friend in the States who was about to meet me in Mexico City for a March Retreat. I could of course order it online, but I wanted a copy that her hands had touched. I am funny that way.

She immediately agreed, said she would include a copy for my friend, and then added that she was also going to send me a book or two by Corita Kent (a former religious sister, artist, designer, extraordinary educator, and I would soon find out, general bada**). “There was some connection for me there,” she said.

On the first day of the Retreat, my friend brought me a package that held four books: two copies of The Small Blue Book and two books from Corita Kent.

Standing in the magnificent dining room, I opened them with the same reverence and anticipation I would reserve for a box full of fresh baked French pastries. Seeing Karol’s book for the first time in almost 40 years made my insides smile. Famili-arity, warmth, wisdom, love.

Opening the first pages of Corita Kent’s book I felt as though a knowing friend was introducing me to someone she knew I needed to meet. There was guidance in that moment, an important introduction, something sacred. I felt it in my body.

Two Sisters’ work coming to me from across the border, carried on a plane by a friend I cherish.

Unwrapped in the dining room of a two hundred year old convent, on the first day of a women’s Retreat.

Women have forever passed wisdom to each other. Tucked into gifts, whispered across tables, carried in suitcases, sewn into hems — the way my refugee ancestors also carried what mattered most across borders.

It is an ancient chain, and an honor to be part of it.

Sister Karol, when you read this — there is a pot of tea waiting for you, and a gratitude too big for any email.

***

The March Retreat was beautiful and this November, I will be going back to that convent. Back to that magnificent dining room. I would love for you to join me. Together, just a few women, we will walk the cobblestone streets, sip hot cacao, take in art from masters and everyday hands. We will bask in Delight, Inspiration, Joy, and Togetherness.

“Laura does a magic trick that weaves together the energy of the group, the breathtaking beauty of the place, and a deep container for reflection, leaving you with a mixed of renewed clarity and appreciation for what matters the most.”

Would you like to meet me there?

From time to time I host personal Retreats for women who need a few quiet days to think about their own next chapter. Just you and me for a couple of days. Full focus on you, your Core Essences, your fears and your dreams.
More info.

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