I’ve enjoyed
’ writing for years, from her Rewilding Motherhood book to her newsletter here on Substack The Rewilded Life, and now to her new book releasing today: The Mystics Would Like a Word: Six Women Who Met God and Found a Spirituality for Today.Shannon is wise and goes deep, with a vision for the spiritual life that can sustain and uniquely enliven. But she’s also a bit cheeky, as my favorite people are, and takes care to ground her work in the texture of our actual lives. I’m currently underlining and loving her book right now, which profiles the likes of Teresa of Ávila, Hildegard of Bingen, Julian of Norwich, and more, but never like you’ve known them before—these are real women, real people just like us, and Shannon makes sure you know it.
I’m so glad to have Shannon joining us today to talk about the origin story of her book, the constraints of the creative life, and what happens when a woman speaks for herself.
Stephanie: First thing’s first: tell us the origin story of The Mystics Would Like a Word! I’d especially love to know: when did you first realize this is a book?
Shannon:
About four years ago I was in a despondent place in my faith, disillusioned by the church and pretty jaded by modern Christian voices. I didn’t want to read the popular books or listen to the trending podcasts like everyone else seemed to be doing in their own deconstruction. I found I experienced the most nourishment in interfaith spaces, both in person and in publishing, and I was surprised by how often the Christian mystics came up in those spaces. It made me curious, so I decided to read their works for myself. At the time I was writing on Patreon so, as we writers are prone to do, I turned my curiosity into content and documented my reflections as I learned. I think I knew it would become a book after the first two, Julian of Norwich and Teresa of Avila.
You write in your book about being drawn to the female mystics because so much of church history is narrated by men. What surprised you most about learning about the life of faith through their eyes? What do we lose when we miss out on this woman-to-woman teaching and storytelling? What do we gain when we tune back in?
I was shocked by how blatantly their most feminine experiences, beliefs, and yearnings had been erased from their public narratives. Margery Kempe was a victim of marital rape and suffered from postpartum psychosis. Julian of Norwich taught that God is Mother. Therese of Lisieux felt called to the priesthood. Catherine of Siena had an eating disorder. None of these are discussed in most Christian circles, because the stories of these women have been passed down through history by male scholars, seminarians, and clergy.
But this is what is so sacred about writing; these women spoke for themselves, in their own words. And when a woman picks up one of their books, I guarantee she will see things that a man won’t see – and what’s more, she will feel seen too.
Let’s talk about limitations. The creative life and parenting life is full of them! What have you found to be the most sustaining posture toward our limitations?
I frequently fantasize about a life where I get to write eight hours a day, uninterrupted. That is the furthest thing from my reality right now, and you know what? It’s honestly for the best. There have been so many book ideas over the years that I would have pursued had I had the time to do so, and now I look back and think “thank God I didn’t start that project.” I know it would have been poorly done, or I would have outgrown it, or come to resent it.
I’ve learned that limitations are allies. They force us to be selective and discerning about our work. The projects we do take on might then take longer than we’d like, but that’s also not a bad thing. Creativity needs time to steep. We learn to be patient with our craft and with our souls. We have to lean into the lesson rather than fight it.
People always ask, “How did you do it? How did you write this book in the midst of a full life, work, and five kids at home?” I want to know how you did it. But I also want to know how you discerned what to let go of to make space for your creative work, and how you managed and mitigated the guilt of letting go of those things you felt you “should” be doing. What made that process easier, and what made it harder?
That’s the real question, isn’t it? Because there is no magic trick – saying yes to one thing simply means saying no to about twelve other things. My life has admittedly gotten smaller since I started writing books. I’m not active in church, I’m not in the PTO, I’m not engaging in volunteer work like I once did. Right now, raising five kids and working full time, to choose to write is to choose for this to be the way I make a difference in the world. Writing is my ministry, my activism, whatever you want to call it. I do feel like a present and emotionally available mother, so I don’t necessarily have the “mom guilt,” but I do have my fair share of human guilt. I wrestle with feeling like I don’t do enough for my community, or for issues I care about.
One thing that has helped has been to narrow down my vision for my writing. What am I uniquely positioned to offer the world for our collective wholeness and healing? I found that my answer, at least for now, is to empower women to find their voice and trust it. I realized that if I can do my part by helping women be self-compassionate and self-attuned, this will have a domino effect on the important social issues that matter so deeply to me. I believe that if women honor their truest selves, the world really can change; I believe the divine feminine really is that powerful.
What would you say to the woman who is burning to express herself creatively yet doesn’t see how that fits into her daily life?
You are the only you. Don’t compare yourself to anyone else. You and you alone are on this unique trajectory. You are the only one under the particularities of your circumstance – and your circumstance is there to serve you, it really is. All of the obstacles, all of the impossibilities, they will all go into your art. Nothing will be wasted. You’ll see.
Seconding that—you’ll see. From one writer in the thick of it to another, take heart and stay feisty,
In The Mystics Would Like a Word, readers will discover the story of Christian faith and spirituality as told by these extraordinary and wise women, one that speaks directly to today’s unique experiences, and leads to wholeness, healing, and spiritual vitality.
Thanks for sharing this book and conversation with the author. Men need to pay attention these voices and stories. I am listening.
Thanks for having me, Stephanie!