The Discomfort of a Battered Heart
All in my feels...
Last month, I spent a week in San Diego, the city of my birth. Despite having not lived there since I was three, I’ve always felt a strong pull to a place where water is everywhere. The neighborhood where my dad’s family put down roots—and still resides—is on a point. If you get up high enough, you can look to the east and see all the boats on San Diego Bay. Then, turn immediately to the west and you can see the Pacific Ocean. Sunrises and sunsets are most spectacular!
On this most recent visit, I spent a good amount of time at the beach—first, up the coast to Del Mar, and later, I visited Ocean Beach, just a mile or so from the family compound.
Maybe it was the time of the year, or maybe it was because the pier was closed, but Ocean Beach was fairly deserted on the day I showed up. I found a big rock on which to perch and sat, mesmerized by the rhythm of the waves—watching as they rolled in, crashed against the rocks, and then retreated back out to sea.
Along my beach stroll, I came across this stone:
As I picked it up and rubbed the sand off, tears started flowing—seemingly from nowhere. Then clarity arrived, as I realized that I was holding a replica of my own heart—one that for decades, had protected me with its ability to withstand all things meant to harm me.
Or so I thought.
Turns out, reality is quite different. As my fingers traced the cracks, dents, and perfectly round holes in the stone, I didn’t just think about all the loss I’ve personally endured. Coincidently, I’d arrived in California just as the L.A. fires were beginning to be controlled and I felt overwhelmed with sadness for all the people who’d lost their homes. And then, my heart ached with worry about future pain and loss for still more people I don’t know at all. There’s a certain curse that comes with being an empath.
Because I had the time, I chose to stand still and simply allow myself to feel that overwhelming sense of loss and sadness. Too much more to go into here, but in that regard, I know I’m not much different from you or anyone else in this world who experiences these waves (no pun intended) of emotions.
Where we may differ is in our ability to go on, even when our hearts feel like this stone.
For me, there’s no alternative.
What about you?
One way I’m able to fill some of the holes in my heart is through sharing the writing process for Crossing Fifty-One and connecting with new readers. It’s truly a magical experience and it was one of the reasons for me being in San Diego. Every time someone communicates with me about how the book affected them, my heart heals just a bit more.
Until next month,
~ Debbie
I’m planning to do more video posts in the future, and one of them will be on my very conflicted feelings about Amazon. As much as I hate it, my status as an indie author depends on “verified reviews,” meaning, if you bought the book on Amazon, your review is weighted more than if you bought it from me at a book fair, or at one of my events.
I recently got a note from a reader who shared that even though it left her a little weepy, it was a great book. That would be a perfect review, but this person felt too intimidated to write that. It doesn’t need to be more than a sentence or two, and it really helps! Click on the button, scroll down to the review section and then click on the “write a customer review” button.
Audiobook Sample:
I’m so happy with how the audiobook came out! It’s already received a five star rating on Audible! You can listen to a preview HERE: and order through Amazon or Audible!
ALSO: If you bought a book, but haven’t gotten around to reading it, reply to this email for a FREE CODE for the audiobook!
Three things I read this month:
I’m a huge Arthur Brooks fan, and this recent piece of his on how to have more meaningful conversations really resonated with me. Maybe it’s because I’m not really interested in talking about what everyone is watching on Netflix, or other such topics.
I was shocked and disappointed to see action taken by my alma mater, the University of Minnesota Law School, to "obey in advance." The way diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives have been maligned and deliberately misunderstood saddens me. Now that they are being called illegal is extraordinarily concerning.
Finally, Derek Thompson wrote a really interesting piece about how time spent on our phones exhausts us to the point where it’s easy to cancel on real life plans. It’s called “The Antisocial Century,” and worth your time.
February Book Recommendations
I believe the new administration has banned all federal references to Black History Month. Since I am not a member of any federal institution and therefore not at risk of being fired for noncompliance, I hereby offer these books for your consideration:
NONFICTION:
Heavy: An American Memoir by Kiese Laymon
In a recent interview I did, I talked about how memoir has the power to move us, or bore us to tears, depending on how it is written. The title aptly describes how my heart felt while reading this stunning book.
FICTION:
Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi
I’m planning a video post with a more thorough review of this book…for now, you can click on the link above to find out more.
BONUS FICTION
James by Percival Everett
This is a re-imagining of Mark Twain’s The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn as told from the perspective of Jim.