Magnolia Journal: Here + Now
I don’t want to miss this.
That thought has been on repeat in my mind the past couple of weeks. It’s been thrown into the pile with the rest—thoughts and questions swirling about work, life, the future, the present. I wouldn’t say I’m anxious or worried, but my mind feels full. I’ve made a joke with myself that 2022 has been the year of crucial conversations (the kind that us Enneagram 9s dread), and while I’m grateful for the opportunities to strengthen a weaker muscle, those chats can still leave me exhausted. They’ve been with smart, thoughtful, deep-well kind of people, so even though we walk away with a deeper understanding of one another, sometimes I still leave with more questions than answers. That’s not a complaint. In fact, I’m grateful for a community that keeps me curious and on my toes. But still, there’s a restlessness. A lack of resolve. An open page to a chapter that hasn’t been written yet.
If none of that made sense to you, well, welcome to my brain. There’s a lot going on in there. I am filled to the brim—with stirrings, hopeful expectation, wonder, some puzzlement, but also an overwhelming heap of gratitude. My life feels like a gift that’s so big, half the time I don’t know how to carry it. And that’s a great place to be.
All that said, I’m grateful that our winter issue of “presence” is hitting shelves when it is. That’s the very thing I need right now.
Because of the nature of my job at Magnolia, I’ve been hopping in and out of this issue for months—following the evolving iterations of each story, writing and editing drafts of my own. This issue in particular feels special to me because even more people I love and admire have poured themselves into it, and it shows. It’s beautiful. Last night in bed and this morning with the light pouring in, I read through the whole thing. In the quiet, with my coffee—I let these blessings of presence wash over me. Like a good, hot shower, it felt calming and restorative.
And as I read the Journal’s prompts for each leg of the winter season (anticipating the holidays, living them, and resetting for the new year), I just keep thinking about what’s coming. Our Friendsgiving next week, and flying to see my family, and writing Christmas cards alongside my roommate, and swapping little gifts with my teammates, and that trip with my college besties, and the Christmas staff party, and my friends’ kid’s birthday party, and decorating the tree with my sister, and…the list goes on. So even with the swirl within me, that phrase keeps coming back to tap me on the shoulder and lift my chin. McGee, look up. You don’t want to miss this.
I’ve continued the tradition for a couple of years now of writing Magnolia Post—a snapshot of what the season looks like at Magnolia, both in Waco and online (you can find this in the front of every issue). For winter, I’ve also had the privilege of telling two stories in the Here + Now section towards the back of the issue: Donnie Griggs and Cynthia McGee. I can’t give you a teaser that would do these two justice—you’ll just have to read about their inspirational lives yourself. Grab a copy of our winter issue here. And I hope it encourages you to savor the pause, look up, and feel the moment you’re in with all five senses. Let it take your breath away.
