Hi, Friend.
Today I’m here with a celebration and a little pep talk, in case you need them. I do. Life’s been a slog since January, if I’m honest—and I try to be!—but there are so many things to be thankful for, and I look for them every day. I keep my antenna raised.
Here’s something I’m celebrating: the first birthday of my memoir, You Could Make This Place Beautiful, which was published a year ago today on April 11, 2023.
Where is the smash cake when we need one? (Funny, when my daughter turned one, she wanted nothing to do with the beautiful little cake I put on her highchair tray—white frosting, tiny pink roses. Violet was more interested in the fruit and dip we’d set out for guests to snack on. To be fair, my mom’s fruit dip is equal parts marshmallow fluff and cream cheese, so who could blame her?)
But I digress.
The book turns one today, and this has me, like a proud and bewildered parent, reflecting on the first year. Proud because I made this thing. Bewildered because it’s also, like a child, not mine. Not really. It’s living its own life now, making its way to places I may never visit, speaking to readers in languages I can’t read or speak. It’s left the nest.
Publishing a memoir is equal parts harrowing and joyful. So many things could go wrong. So many things are beyond our control. But—here comes the pep talk—so many things could go right.
This is a page from Keep Moving: The Journal. It’s helpful for me to remind myself of this when I start to go down a worst-case-scenario rabbit hole in my mind: At least as many things could go right as could go wrong.
It’s helpful, when I start to list all of the negative “what-ifs” that could happen, to instead ask myself: What if it all works out?
Maybe you also spend too much time thinking about how things can go wrong, and not enough time enjoying the present moment or dreaming about what could go right. Keep Moving was so much about overcoming self-protective pessimism and opening myself up to the possibility that my life could be good, really good, even if it wasn't what I’d expected.
If you've also been a self-protective pessimist or a worst-case-scenario thinker, I hope you’ll jot these lines down on a sticky note to keep at your desk, on your bedside table, or wherever you need a reminder that chances are, it’ll all work out. Maybe not the way you’d planned or hoped, but in new, unexpected ways. Life is full of surprises, some of them heartbreaking, but many of those surprises are unbearably sweet. Let’s not forget about those.
Today You Could Make This Place Beautiful has been in the world for a year, and it’s surprised me every single day. It’s succeeded in ways I couldn’t have imagined. It’s tested my mettle. It’s made meaningful, life-changing conversations possible for me—and maybe for others, too. I hope so.
It’s made me rethink, yet again, what is possible.
Next time you’re tempted to expect the worst, or to give up on an idea before you even get going, I hope you’ll remember: At least as many things could go right as could go wrong.
What if it all works out?
Love,
Maggie
PS: A heads up, because I’m hitting the road (fine, the skies) in a few days. If you’re in the St. Louis area, I’ll be there on Monday 4/15 with Natasha Trethewey, Michael Cunningham, Imani Perry, Daniel Halpern, and current National Student poet Shangi-La Hou. Join us for events in support of the National Poetry Series, or bid on rare literary collectibles in the online auction wherever you are.
PPS: I’ll be listening to the YCMTPB playlist today—what about you?
Loved that book so much. Such perfect fit of form and content - loved your repeated questions (every book begins with an unanswerable question, what is mine?).
Thanks Maggie. I loved your memoir and thoughts from it have become part of my psyche (nesting dolls!) I find myself tending to think of the worst in about every situation, but al-anon has taught me to take control of my thoughts. Not that I don't wallow at first! But I come around. Thanks for the reminder to hope for the best.