When we first decided on the theme “new” for this Spring 2025 issue, I thought it would be a fun, lighthearted concept to explore. I kept thinking of images of wearing a new dress or buying a new keychain or getting a new haircut (always a gamble). But when we started putting the stories together, I found there is some amount of loss involved in each of the pieces. I think I wasn’t expecting that.
Maybe the difference comes from the nuances between the act of buying something new and the act of cultivating new characteristics in our lives. The first, after all, often seems easier than the second, with less at stake. Although perhaps some sense of loss is present even there: When we buy something new, we are trading in time from our lives that we spent earning the money to acquire it.
We do it, though, because we believe what we gain is worth it. It is worth it to have new things that better suit our current purposes, that are beautiful, that bring fun and joy and different perspectives into our lives. I think when we work to create something new in our lives, we do it, too, because we believe or are asked to have faith that what we trade for the new is worth it.
Newness is fun and lighthearted. And it is born of hard work and feeling unsure and persevering through disappointment and discouragement to pursue something worthy. These aspects of newness aren’t mutually exclusive; I want and need both in my life to shape me into the person I have always been becoming.
In this issue, we examine the theme of “new.” Here, one writer shares about her experience of moving from her hometown for the first time and the ways she’s learning to make a home in Idaho while still holding space for her home in Southeast Missouri. In our photo shoot, we look at ways new comes from old in nature and think about how acknowledging loss might help us live more fully. And one writer reflects on the ways grandmothering teaches her to see the world afresh and herself as part of a lineage of people who came before and are coming after her. We hope these stories help you to greet the new that is happening within your life with wonder, curiosity and healing.
For Christmas and three weeks late, my friend sent me a gift in the mail. When I opened it in January, it was a handmade plaque from Canada with a quote from Fred Rogers on it: “Often when you think you’re at the end of something, you’re at the beginning of something else.” I put it on my bookshelf. I think it speaks to the fact that nothing comes from nothing; our lives are cause-and-effect continuations. Things end, yes, and new things open up. They surrender, usher in, say “you go first,” touch. It is a continual death and resurrection, a learning how to be full of grace, letting one thing go to receive another. Heaven yeah this being human is hard.
These stories shared in this issue are really special to me. I hope, along your journey, they mean something to you, too, and touch all of the pieces of your beautiful life in ways that inspire boldness, honesty and hope.
Here is to the faith it takes to step towards the tenderness of what is new. May it be a gift to you and birth deeper understanding, conviction and possibility into your life and the collective life of the world.
Joy, Mia
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