Why “Firefly”? Good question.

It began in the dark. I’d stayed up late, laughing and chatting with participants at our annual yoga and writing retreat at Harmony Dawn. It was a clear June night with a deep black sky. I was setting out with my flashlight to my tiny cabin. Then I saw them: The field was full of stars.

I had been looking for a name for my business for months, and I knew right away that I was about to walk into it. Watching the fireflies leap and giggle through the night air, all I could think of was the way my students had come alive in the workshop that day, dancing in their own creative light, brightening the air for each other.

I put my flashlight back in my pocket and let the waltzing, winking darkness show me the way.

When I got home on Sunday I began my research, and the connection between fireflies and beginner writers only became more clear. I learned that fireflies don’t always come to their light easily. In fact, they stay nestled under a sweet layer of soil for two entire years before they push their way up to dance their light through the dark.

I see this every day of my work. Many of us take a lot of time to come to our creative lives. We think about it, dream about it, buy new journals. They are beautiful journals — with lines, without lines, pocket-size, purse-size, made of handmade paper, waterproof. We may buy books about writing and page through them, telling our friends that we’re going to write. Any day now. There’s a feeling, deep down, that we have something to say. It never quite leaves.

Making light is hard work. When people begin to write, they often have a lot built up, waiting to pour onto the page. It’s a joy to witness writing voices emerge, like fireflies into the dark June air. Tentative and dazzling, they can’t help but shine.