What a week.
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I was sick (of the office bug kind, which was a semi-welcome semi-relief from the chronic kind), I had hard conversations (some without resolution), watched a Netflix docu about the brain, worked on #saltnovel, and spent much of it (and this whole month actually) like a tall glass full of emotion that needs to be fully emptied out but really only manages to have the excesses overflow the edges. Remaining persistently full is draining. I need a good, cathartic cry-fest.
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Swipe right to see the screenshot I took recently of @tanfrance’s Insta. I’m trying to start my day saying, “I woke up today as Jackie Sommers. POWER MOVE.” 😂 But seriously, just the idea of knowing myself and my identity IS a power move. One step at a time to being fully, truly myself.

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I am full of hope, fear, restlessness, creativity, humor, compassion, and sleepiness. Humans are so complicated, aren’t we? It’s beautiful.
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#blog #writer #writing #writinglife #author #authorsofinstagram #writersofinstagram #courageovercomfort #courage #growth #meaning #purpose #meaningfulgrowth #enneagram4 #spoonie #spoontheory #outofspoons

Taking Sunday night to prep for the week ahead. For me, that looks like revising my writing “syllabus” to slow down my pace; remembering my current goals and making a list of how to work on them this week; calling my mom; and lots of reading.
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How about you? .
#blog #writer #writing #writinglife #author #authorsofinstagram #writersofinstagram #courageovercomfort #courage
#SelfCare #radicalacceptance
#radicalselfacceptance #mentalhealth
#mentalhealthwarrior
#investinginmyself #goals #growth #growthmindset #enneagram4 #meaning #purpose
#Repost @selflovesupply
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In my dream, I was in a class where my assignment was to make a dish inspired by a book. Even in my sleep, my mind defaulted to Narnia.
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I really would love to recreate this (for humans 😏): “But for the tree people different fare was provided. When Lucy saw Clodsley Shovel and his moles scuffling up the turf in various places (which Bacchus had pointed out to them) and realised that the trees were going to eat earth it gave her rather a shudder. But when she saw the earths that were actually brought to them she felt quite different. They began with a rich brown loam that looked almost exactly like chocolate; so like chocolate, in fact, that Edmund tried a piece of it, but he did not find it at all nice. When the rich loam had taken the edge off their hunger, the trees turned to an earth of the kind you see in Somerset, which is almost pink. They said it was lighter and sweeter. At the cheese stage they had a chalky soil, and then went on to delicate confections of the finest gravels powdered with choice silver sand. They drank very little wine, and it made the Hollies very talkative: for the most part they quenched their thirst with deep draughts of mingled dew and rain, flavoured with forest flowers and the airy taste of the thinnest clouds.”
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Illustrations by #PaulineBaynes.
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#narnia #princecaspian #favoritescenes #bakingdreams #lol #blog

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State of the Blogger: Growing.
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Things aren’t perfect. But they aren’t stagnant, and that’s what matters here. When I think about hitting rock bottom (emotionally/mentally in 2008, physically in 2017), I can’t help but be grateful for where I am now.
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Over a decade into #freedomfromOCD and never, ever not full of genuine thankfulness for the rescue. This past week has been a hard reminder of the hell of #mentalillness, and I had a convo just yesterday about my 15 years to diagnosis and another 5 till proper treatment. In fact, on average it takes 14-17 years for a correct diagnosis and treatment of OCD. Mine took 20 total, but the last 10 have been more joyful than I could have imagined.
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It’s been nearly two years since I told HR at my school that something was wrong, that I needed help. UNW has been an absolute support to me and here I am now, no longer in constant pain, getting deep sleep, and enjoying new roles in my job. I used to notice when I wasn’t in pain, because pain had become my norm. Last night, my wrists hurt and instead of being upset, I just thought “thank you, thank you, thank you that this flare-up is even noticeable, that it’s no longer expected.”
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And I’m reading again as if books are oxygen. I find the stories and words and wisdom of these books coming pouring off my tongue every chance I get. I know they are subconsciously making me a better writer too. And (very) consciously a better person.
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There is hope, friends. There really is. I have had to become my biggest advocate and to demand that people both listen and hear me. But that’s made me powerful. My heart is so full. Yes, I still have so far to go, but I’m excited by it. The journey feels weighty with purpose and meaning. .
#blog #spoonielife #enneagram4 #spoonie #spoontheory #ocd #obsessive #exposuretherapy #erptherapy #grace #courage #growth #radicalacceptance #powerfulwomen #advocacy #selfadvocate

My second year of college, I lived in a suite with seven other girls whom I laughed with and fought with and loved. That Tuesday morning, one of my quadmates Tracy and I had a class together, and I was getting annoyed because she was dawdling because she didn’t feel well and was probably going to make me late.

Another quadmate Megan, pre-med, had an early lab that morning and returned to our place, breathless as she reached for the remote. She clicked on the news, saying, “A plane crashed into the World Trade Center!”

My first image was of some podunk, rogue new pilot who had accidentally somehow managed to bump into the building.

But the people on the news seemed serious, and Tracy sat down on the couch next to Megs to watch. “We need to go,” I told her.

She waved me off, still watching the screen. “I’m not going to go. You can leave.”

I stomped off to Nazareth Hall, upset and annoyed that I would be late now without a partner in crime. When I got to the fourth floor, someone in my class had turned on the TV in the room, and now the news was reporting on the crash at the Pentagon. Everyone was transfixed. I clearly remember thinking, Is this the end of the world?

Our teacher made us turn off the TV. I don’t think anyone quite realized yet that this would be one of our nation’s biggest tragedies. We talked in class about leadership. I don’t remember anything specific about it.

At Northwestern College, we had chapel every morning at 10:30 am (CST). As the student body was making its way to Maranatha Auditorium from all areas of campus, everyone was buzzing about the news. I was in the Totino stairwell talking animatedly about the towers being hit when John, a friend from freshman year, said, “I think the bigger deal is that it has collapsed.”

Wait, what?

I remember being in complete shock– how could a small plane collapse a skyscraper? It wasn’t until a week or so later when I saw in a magazine an illustrated cross-section of the tower with an overlaid plane, as if seen from above. Then it made more sense.

In chapel, they had a live news feed playing over the giant screen above the stage. The student body watched, cried, prayed. They let the feed play all day, and students came in and out to watch and pray.

I was shell-shocked, since my sister Kristin and my dad had been in New York City only two weeks earlier. They had pictures of themselves from the roof of the WTC. Even though I knew they were safe and in Minnesota, I kept picturing them on top of that building, knowing that someone else’s sister and dad had to be in the building that day, my heart breaking for them and so relieved that my family had escaped such personal devastation by fewer than 14 days.

Everyone at my school kept saying, “This did not surprise God; this did not surprise God,” and I knew that Northwestern was the very best place for me to sort through the tragedy. It was heartbreaking but beautiful to grieve with a community that both loved and trusted God’s sovereignty in spite of the destruction and sadness.

What a day. Sometimes it is hard to believe that it has been over a decade since then. Sometimes it feels like it’s been even longer. My dad says he always remembers what he was doing when he found out JFK was shot. I suppose this is my generation’s event. It makes me sad even to write about it today, all these years later.

One thing I know: September 11, 2001, did not surprise my good and perfect God. I continue to trust Him.

This post was originally written on September 11, 2012

I’ve written for six weeks in a row. Perhaps you don’t understand how huge that is for me. Trust me, it’s huge.
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I wrote EVERY DAY for something like 7-8 years, then got a book deal and revised like a beast for another year and a half.
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Then I lost my mojo. And my energy. I was confused about if I even wanted to be published again. But I did not lose my love of story or desire to write.
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The book The Hero is You by @kendra.levin with its clever exercises was the practical tool that shook me loose from hiatus. It feels so good to be back to work.
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Yes, this is a picture of me wearing a shower turban because I like my eyes in it and I needed a photo. Turn that into a metaphor if you’d like. 😊
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