It's the end of the world as we know it... and I feel fine.

Let me tell you something true.

Well friends…. It’s been quite an adventure.

I knew it would be a magical few weeks leading back-to-back writing retreats with author (and life coach) Steph Jagger. What I didn’t realize when I made my way to Bainbridge Island was that I would be stepping into a significant crossroads and choosing a new path forward for my life.

If you’re a parent or grandparent of school-aged children, you just watched them move into a new grade. They’re transitioning from one skill set to the next, maturing their relationships, finding their way to new learnings.

If you follow the natural cycles, you know we’re entering both eclipse season and approaching the autumn equinox. Both are about light, and how we see and live in the world differently as the light shifts.

All this to say, no matter where you look for your signs, it’s a time when things are changing. Sometimes it’s small things, like summer rituals— an evening walk or having a first coffee on the deck as the sun rises— falling away as the daylight and weather shifts. Sometimes the changes are bigger.

Often, it’s only in retrospect that we can trace a transformation back to its beginnings. In one of our many long evening chats after our writers had left for the day, Steph and I explored how to know when an internal change is ready to blossom in the outer world; the sense of quickening that happens when what was once a vague feeling suddenly has words and images associated with it. As a metamorphosis awakens inside us, we begin to imagine the conversations that will have to happen to make it real in the world. We begin envisioning what our lives will look like as we share this reimagined sense of ourself with those we love and care about.

The transformation I’m in the midst of has been stirring since last winter. In the beginning, I couldn’t name it, though I felt its shape. It was big, but amorphous, like a giant, life altering marshmallow gooping up my insides. For months I tried to figure out what needed a shake-up. I even contemplated selling our rather dreamy home in the woods.

But change came from a different quadrant. Two on-going dialogues with my two current editors both led— independent of each other— to the same conclusion: it was time for something fresh, for both me and my editorial teams. And so, for the first time since 2016, I don’t have a next book under contract.

I knew this might be coming (every author knows this might be coming) and I expected to feel directionless. A book contract has always given me a sense of structure. I was certain I would feel lost without one.

But as I tapped the red button to disconnect from the phone call with my first editor, the one with whom this whole journey began, I felt a lifting energy, a lightness I hadn’t experienced in quite a while. Instead of feeling lost, I had a satisfying sense that a cycle had been completed. And something more. I tuned into it and quickly realized I felt relieved and, unexpectedly, free. Free to be myself, to speak my mind, to manage my business in ways that make sense to me. Free to leave my “lane.” Free to stop doing things that impress the publishing houses but are mind-numbing, soul-sucking, and have zero return on investment (besides impressing the publishing houses).

If all of this hadn’t happened while I was leading two back-to-back writing retreats, perhaps it would have felt different. If it hadn’t happened when I was with Steph, immersed in conversations about the stages of life and how we reshape ourselves within them, maybe I would have believed I’d lost my mojo.

But these conversations did happen while I was deep in the work of supporting other writers in their work, while I was watching them transform in ways that blew my mind and opened my heart, letting light saturate the newly created cracks. Every evening, I was like a kid on a sugar-high as I hugged each writer goodbye before they went off to their hotels and Air BnBs. And then Steph and I used the last of our waning energy to fix dinner, discussing the different archetypes we can use to understand the changes life throws at us as we chopped pre-cooked chicken into leftover quinoa. I came to see that I’ve been in the Maiden portion of my writing career, the first phase where everything is new and you’re working to please your publishing parents.

(The next phase in the cycle, as Steph and I see it, is Rebel. So look out world!)

I have discovered a huge passion for supporting other writers. Skills I’ve been using only in my author groups were amped on these retreats— close reads, edits, the ability to see the structure and big picture of a piece of writing—were suddenly useful in a different way. And the feedback I got from participants had me leaking stunned, happy tears pretty much all week.

Coming home, I’m a calm, centered, focused version of the person who got on a plane two weeks ago (we call our writing retreats Come to Center… and I did).

What I have always been interested in is transformation— for myself, for you. How do we evolve and grow in ways that make our lives richer and deeper and more connected? The mystical things I have written about are tools for finding our inner truths and connecting with our intuition and wisdom. They are doorways in.

It was electric to work directly with the power of transformation these past few weeks. No intermediaries— no herbs or crystals or animal allies— to ground the flow. Just me. Rooted and— suddenly— so very ready.

My Irish teacher used to say “use the tools until you don’t need them anymore.” This is the evolution I was always aiming toward.

Bring it on, eclipse season!

xx Maia

P.S. If you need a book this season, I’m reading and loving Something in the Woods Loves You by Jarod K. Anderson.

P.P.S. I’ve had two cross country flights to catch up on movies. The Boys in the Boat is lovely and inspiring.