Where were you the first time you held a copy of Ruminate in your hands?
I was at Everyday Joe's Coffee House in Ft. Collins, CO – the space I help steward and curate. Ruminate was brand new. It was actually an hour before the official launch party began...a party I could not believe we were hosting. Was there even a physical copy of the journal present? I don't know. I can't remember.
I remember the feel of holding it though...whether that feel was existential or in physical manifestation.
I watched as Bri and the others helping out with Ruminate at the time hustled in and out of the shop. It was frenetic. There were cheese platters. There was excitement. The realization of a dream was at hand. Nearly like the creation of Narnia in The Magician's Nephew:
"One moment there had been nothing but darkness; next moment a thousand, thousand points of light leaped out . . ."
Since then our partnership with Ruminate has continued and grown: fundraising dinners, winter markets, open mics, blog posts, visual art from the walls of the building ending up in the magazine, writer's retreats, and on and on. These are all great things! They are, though, simply expressions of what I have always seen Ruminate as...or at least come to realize in these recent days of reflection.
Ruminate Magazine is a point of access – access to vitality, access to thought, access to inspiration, access to healthy conviction, access to faith & life.
It's one thing to do something – to spin the wheel of a dream into forward momentum – and have "approachable" as a spoke in that wheel. It is another thing to actually have whatever that dream is be approachable by the unsure and sure alike – especially when it is a literary journal.
AND THEN! It is something quite exceptional to have a magazine like Ruminate – with the conviction of high art and word as an expression of the Almighty at the center of its call – be accessible. I have watched as folk from all points of the spectrum gravitate towards the copies we have for sale at the shop, pick up a copy, flip through it, and purchase what they have found.
Do they become subscribers? Don't know.
Do they become constant readers? Not sure.
Do they ever even read that copy cover to cover?
Maybe these are all questions we don't actually need to the answers to.
But when they held it in their hands for the first time, there was something that moved them, and they left that day with that something having perked up a little bit in their being. Where one moment, perhaps, there had been nothing but darkness, there was now a point of light.
And that is the dream of creativity. The dream of creation and the creator. The dream I saw in that room nearly a decade ago.
And I do believe it is not done yet.
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