What One Special Mother Did to Bring the World Alive for Her Blind Daughter

What One Special Mother Did to Bring the World Alive for Her Blind Daughter

What sort of people do we want to be?
What sort of people do we want to raise?

The answer to both these questions came to me when Tanya Savva approached me with her children’s book, The Adventures of Kenzie-Moo.

I created Little Wings Books, the children’s book imprint of Joanne Fedler Media if only to publish this gem of a book.

Tanya’s life changed when her daughter Mackenzie was born blind and with a range of other physical challenges. As a single mother, she knew there was more to working herself to exhaustion and not having enough time to spend with her daughter.

‘I know she deserved so much more,’ Tanya says.

In 2016 she decided to turn her life around. She packed up their lives, bought a caravan and for five months took Mackenzie all around Queensland, Australia, where they had all kinds of adventures. During this time, Tanya kept a leather-bound journal to capture their experiences and document Mackenzie’s reactions to everything she ‘saw.’

One night she wrote the book from start to finish and found a wonderful artist, Emma Stuart to do the illustrations.

The book asks us to imagine seeing a dolphin, walking through a rainforest, flying in a helicopter and swimming in the ocean without the use of our eyes.

As Kenzie-Moo delights in the sounds and sensations around her, she invites us to explore the world in ways we’ve never experienced before.

‘Next time you’re on an adventure, close your eyes to see.
Sense the world a little differently. Maybe you’ll see it just like me.’

Tanya and Mackenzie

This book is everything a book should be:

It has been written by a remarkable woman about a remarkable child; it’s a testament to the kind of love that makes this world bearable and ridiculously beautiful in the face of overwhelming challenge; and it holds a message that reminds us – no matter our age – to grab life with both hands and do that thing we’ve been wanting to do but have been putting off.

“My daughter isn’t an excuse for why I can’t follow my heart’s desires – she is the reason for why I should.”
Tanya Savva

The Adventures of Kenzie-Moo 5

Please help me to make this book a HUGE success and support this extraordinary mother-daughter duo.

You can do that NOW by purchasing copies of a limited hard-cover edition, signed by Tanya and beautifully packaged (they make outstanding Christmas and Channukah gifts, so you can stock up).

And if the story and illustrations aren’t enough to melt your heart, you will also receive a link to the audio version of the book spoken by Mackenzie (trust me, this kid is something else).

Tanya is in my Masterclass where she is writing a memoir about raising a child with special needs as a single mother, and the choices she’s made to live aligned with her soul purpose, in the face of adversity. She is passionate about empowering women who care for others to create inner freedom and joy no matter their circumstances and runs carer retreats for mothers with children with special needs.

Mackenzie is a magical and confident imp of a girl who continues to triumph through challenges she has faced since birth. She is an exceptional storyteller, horse rider and piano player, and creates joy and laughter wherever she goes with her cheeky and hilarious disposition. A true creative spirit, she shares her unique vision of the world with all those whose lives she touches.

To follow Tanya and Mackenzie’s journey, visit www.tanyasavva.com


If you order your copy now, you will receive a limited edition of The Adventures of Kenzie-Moo in this gorgeous packaging, signed by the author. As a special bonus, you will also receive a link to the audio version of the book spoken by Mackenzie. 

How can you resist?

(What better Christmas or Channukah gift can you think of for a child in your life?)

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We’re all just walking each other home.

– Ram Dass

 

It’s funny how much we fret about nonsense in the light of Ram Dass’s insight, isn’t it? How different would we behave if we lived each day with that as our premise?

So when the 31st August comes around, I don’t sigh, ‘Oh God, another year…’ and get all coy when people ask me my age.

Let me tell you, I’m happy to eat cake once a year, blow out a gazillion candles and get fussed over by family and friends.

Of course, it’s the job of birthdays to remind us of that ‘cottage of darkness’ (to quote Mary Oliver) that we’re all heading towards. But I’m tired of bemoaning the relentless ticking over of the clock, scheduling of calendars, passing of weeks, months and years and becoming bitchy and depressed about the bodily decrepitude that accompanies it. Sequential time (or ‘chronos‘) is only one limited way of Hourglassunderstanding our lives.

There’s another (far more upbeat) way to think about time – ‘kairos.’ It’s an Ancient Greek word meaning ‘the right, critical or opportune moment.’ It celebrates time vertically as opposed to horizontally. You know those moments – the ones that resonate beyond the period they occupy, the ones that ‘stay’ in and with us, even as days move relentlessly through us (that first kiss in the rain; when you heard your daughter sing for the first time; the time he held the moon in his hand for you; the moment you realised, ‘he loves me…’)

Joanne Fedler

Joanne Fedler

Author, writing mentor, retreat leader. I’m an internationally bestselling author of nine books, inspirational speaker and writing mentor. I’ve had books published in just about every genre- fiction, non-fiction, self-help, memoir – by some of the top publishing houses in the world. My books have sold over 650 000 copies and have been translated in a range of languages. Two of my books have been #1 Amazon bestsellers, and at one point the German edition of Secret Mothers’ Business outsold Harry Potter- crazy, right?

Birthdays can be tiresome expressions of more time passing, or we can tune into them as timeless, blessed outposts marking our journey home. The best way I know how is to ritualize these days by waking to see the sun rise, dunking my shivery bones in the ocean and giving money to causes I care about. I drop all work. I let the day have me all to itself.

Birthdays pull me into the confessional of big soul questions like: Is my life meaningful? Am I happy? Are my relationships fulfilling? Why am I doing what I’m doing? And, if I died now, would my basket of regrets be empty or full? (If we don’t ask them on our birthdays, when do we ask them?)

Sunrise

This year’s birthday prep (which involved a vision board, journalling and a life-scan) clarified for me that I want to:

  • stop buying stuff
  • lie still and flirt with the sky (both the clouds and stars)
  • make love more often, maybe even every day
  • remember what my heart is for and let it do its thing
  • listen to what is calling to me through the noise of email and to-do lists
  • love my body more and more and more, blessed jiggle of flesh
  • do silly things – jigsaw puzzles, indoor rock climbing, vegetable pickling, aerial yoga, kayaking, dancing in my socks and singing One Republic’s ‘I Lived’ as if I were onstage
  • write, and write and write and write (at least one beautiful sentence each day).

Kazantzakis wrote: ‘leave nothing for death to take, nothing but a few bones.’ I love that. We’re here to ‘own every second that this world could give,’ (that’s from ‘I Lived’). As we do this big walk together, let’s try to skid more slowly from hour to hour, to be patient with the surprise we are becoming as we sink more deeply into the discovery of who we’re here to be.

Here’s a little writing exercise if you’re up for it – to nudge you into a bit of a love affair with ‘kairos.’

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‘Right Turn’
From the book The Turning
I chose bona fides
and other Latin terms you find
in law books
for it was easier, they claimed
to fall back on
precedent and stare decisis
than a line Tennyson wrote
that’s etched in your soul.
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not right at longing;
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over labyrinths
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and supportive wives.
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grew taut in torts
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In law there was no name
for the quiet snuffing
that numbed my core –
not even in Latin.
The poets called it
‘the divided self ’
it was all there
in The Hollow Men –
‘The horror! The horror!’
I did not want to be Ophelia
even in a robe and wig
there was no honour
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when the mirror
crack’d from side to side
and I wished that I
were dead.
And so
I freed my anchor
turned my ship
cargo-ed with
all that is born only to die
and found my way back
by the stars and their light
and the sound of the song
in the books
I would write.

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that she was destined – destined, mind you –
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never suspected that perhaps her knowing
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to a dissatisfaction
an impatience
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is sealed now
and the unfurling of
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unmagical consequence.
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folding corners of herself down
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might proceed without incident
medication
tragedy.
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sings now for the selves
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to be sung.

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Joanne Fedler

Joanne Fedler

Author, writing mentor, retreat leader. I’m an internationally bestselling author of nine books, inspirational speaker and writing mentor. I’ve had books published in just about every genre- fiction, non-fiction, self-help, memoir – by some of the top publishing houses in the world. My books have sold over 650 000 copies and have been translated in a range of languages. Two of my books have been #1 Amazon bestsellers, and at one point the German edition of Secret Mothers’ Business outsold Harry Potter- crazy, right?

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In That Place

In That Place

In That Place

When you find it
Come back and tell us.
What did you see in that starless dark?
What heavens deserted you
and how did you survive
those broken nights
in the jungle
not knowing if you would ever
be found again?
How did you crawl from your bed
In the days beyond
acceptable grief?
Who did you become
after they left you for dead
six of them, you said?
With what did you mend
and stitch yourself whole
and return to love without
ever having received it?
Take your precious beauty back
along those abandoned tracks
when you get there
let your voice rise
shout your name
In that place you are
strong, my friend.
Go this time to name
by what curious grace
you came back once.
You will never get lost there again.

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Joanne Fedler

Joanne Fedler

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