Interview with Amy Suardi

1. What does it mean to you to be a woman in this day and age?

I feel both the power of living in a time when the feminine is rising to be more respected, and grief for how much connection and inherent strength has been lost in our culture where masculine systems dominate.

2. What’s your mantra?

I keep having to get new ones but my favorite right now is "Enjoy being you.” A lot of mystical religions believe that god is everywhere, everything. Loving oneself is showing the greatest respect and love for the Source. I need this mantra because I have not been very loving of myself over my life, but I’m getting a lot better.

3. How do you Take Care?

Here are my three favorites:

1) Making sure I’m in community with women. Whether it’s having lunch with a friend, participating in a spiritual circle, or organizing a writing group, I’m happier and healthier when I feel part of something.

2) Resting or napping every day after lunch. This pause resets my system and charges me up for the rest of the day. If I don’t have time for a nap, I’ll do some self-reiki and meditation and often this is more restorative (and makes me less groggy) than actual sleep.

3) Cordoning off time in my day to devote to my writing. I have the tendency to devote myself to others, which somehow feels easier and more satisfying — until I start feeling depleted and sad. If I stay more consistently in touch with my private creative side, I’m happier.

4. What are you listening to right now?

The Moonbeaming podcast by Sarah Faith Gottesdiener. Vintage Italian music (my husband is Italian). The single "I Follow Rivers" by Lykke Li, thanks to my daughter Virginia.

5. Share a memory that invokes the senses.

Yesterday I couldn’t do my lunchtime Zumba class, so while on a phone call I walked for an hour with a 20 lb. metal plate in my rucksack. The sky was as clear as water and the March warmth had pushed the magnolias to burst into velvety magenta. When I got home, I knew there were a couple slices left of the apple pie I had made. The kids were at school, so no one would see me heat up a slice and sit outside on my porch, push my fork through the flaky crust and scoop the pie into my mouth. It tasted of orchards and dew, spice cupboards and red wagons. The buttery crust felt like sleeping late on a Sunday morning. The apples were sunlight shining through grass. I decided not to share the final piece, but to hide it for myself.

6. Describe the vibe of where you live now.

A village in the city. I rarely go downtown to see the monuments or the Capitol. My world is made of tree-lined streets of bungalows and Cape Cods painted in shades of slate blue and butter yellow, brick colonials and picket fences. At night from my bathroom window I can see the lighted signs of the restaurants along Wisconsin Avenue, and sometimes I hear the hotrods grandstanding up the hill, but mostly it’s a sleepy place. People are friendly and host block parties, alley grill-outs, and Halloween parades. Kids play in front yards, and that’s where I like to be when I’m outside — trimming the peach tree, planting sugar-snap peas, or watering roses.

7. Give us a closing quote.

“The wound is the place where the light enters you.” --Rumi