Shauna Niequist

Thanks to my dear friend Kayla for introducing me to Shauna Niequist.

In January 2010 I was in Haiti. It was a crazy, rushed, chill, chaotic, peaceful, heart-felt, emotional, lovely, scary, dark, and bright bright bright time and I don't even want to try to explain it right here in this blog. But the point is that I was there. And I was sick one day. Or I guess three days. But on the day that I was the sickest, I was lying in my tent, post puking, terrified of dehydration, and feeling completely alone. When I looked over at Kayla's sleeping bag and there lied the book, Cold Tangerines by Shauna Niequist. For some odd reason I decided to open it and begin reading, and the essay I opened it to was called "Broken Bottles." It was so God. In the essay, Shauna talks about her trip to Africa and how it affected her and right there, in that moment, lying on a sleeping bag, unbelievably hot, sweating, dehydrated, and so incredibly sick. In Haiti. I read her words and felt like I wasn't alone. I will always be so grateful for that.

I recently bought my own copy of that book and reading it has been so enjoyable. There's parts of it that I can't relate to, like being rich and going on trips to the beach and boating and all of that. But what I can always relate to is her tone. Her voice. The way she strings sentences together and the place from which she writes. It is so incredibly encouraging. It also shows me that no matter who you are, no matter what life you've lived so far and have yet to live, no matter how old or young or rich or poor or what race or what ethnicity or background you have, there are things in us that we can all relate to.

Sometimes you can have nothing in common with a person on the surface. But then after spending a few days with them, you realize that you have so much in common with them. You connect to each other from your heart. Which is the best place to be connected from. I felt this way while reading Shauna's words. And I feel this way while sitting next to my friend Kayla.

On the surface, it doesn't seem like we'd have much in common. She's twenty-two, I'm twenty-nine. She's white. I'm black. She's married. I'm single. She's demure and put-together. I'm free-spirited and flashy. It's like if Mary-Anne and Claudia from the Baby-Sitters Club had been close friends. Or maybe Mary-Anne and Jessi. :)

So here's to shared connections between people who have never met. Feeling the same emotions even though you're worlds apart. Looking different on the outside, but deeply connecting on the inside. Good writing. Encouragement. And cold fruit.

Thank you Shauna Niequist.

Thank you Kayla.

PS. When I was home last K gave me her copy of Bittersweet Shauna's next book. I can't wait to start reading it!


Love.

Today I wrote Shauna this letter:

December 6, 2010

To Shauna Niequist

           

            Thank you for writing. Thank you because your voice is so much like mine and it gives me hope that I too might be a writer. Even though I’m not published. Even though I’m so afraid of sharing the thoughts in my head and the twisted, personal way I look at and feel the world. Even though I write in secret. Even though when people ask me, “So what are you going to DO with your life?” I hardly ever say, “write.” And when I do, I usually say it apologetically. Thank you for using run-ons, fragments, and starting sentences with “And.” Because I was always told to never write this way and I always told my English students to never write this way, but this is how I actually write, when I’m only writing for me. This is the way I write when I’m not writing to impress anyone, but only writing from my heart.

I say all of this not to degrade your writing. I hope you don’t take it as that. I say all of this because your writing inspires and encourages me. It shows me that writing is supposed to be fun and deep with feeling. The words are supposed to be real. And that I can write about my every day life and maybe just maybe someone will actually want to read it. While reading Cold Tangerines I kept thinking to myself, “She sounds just like me.” And that very thought is so comforting. You give me courage to write my feelings out. To not edit or limit myself. And to let the words and phrases run across the screen on a path of their own. So thank you for that. Thank you and please keep going. :) With Love.