magical realism – Noreen Lace

Every now and then, someone comes into your life who shifts the way you see the world—quietly, profoundly, and permanently. For me, that person is my dear friend Jo Rousseau. Today, I’m overjoyed to celebrate the publication of her astonishing new book, Translations from the Lost Language of the Universe. You can find it here.

Jo’s story isn’t just remarkable—it’s extraordinary. In 2006, she experienced what doctors call “sudden death,” a moment that cracked open everything she thought she knew. But unlike so many accounts we hear, there was no glowing tunnel, no welcoming light waiting for her. Instead, she felt an expansive sensation—as if she were floating through space itself, untethered and observing existence from a vast, cosmic distance. That experience transformed her, deepened her awareness, and reshaped the way she understands language, connection, and the invisible forces that guide us.

Translations from the Lost Language of the Universe emerges from that shift. It’s a book that lives at the intersection of poetry and revelation—haunting, luminous, and deeply human. Jo writes as if she carries messages back from somewhere most of us have never touched, and the result is a work that feels both intimate and otherworldly.

I am so proud to know her. So grateful that our paths crossed. So lucky to call this marvelous, amazing, truly special woman my friend. Watching her bring this book into the world fills me with joy and awe.

Please join me in celebrating Jo Rousseau and the incredible gift she has given us. Her voice—shaped by experience, resilience, and cosmic wonder—is one we are fortunate to have on this planet.

I handle grief by writing. I handle stress by writing. I handle many things by laying a line on paper and allowing the dark moments to flow out. Image and rhyme and memory and magic blooms and appears sometimes in chaos, other times in patterns however rarely symmetrical.

People all handle grief differently and all the ways are valid. Many people don’t understand those who don’t bawl and post and praise. Other people don’t understand the public display.

After my brother passed last year, my mother followed him in a matter of days. It took me a bit, but I wrote. While I’m working on a longer piece about my mother, I’m proud to say Memory House Magazine out of Chicago accepted the piece about my brother.

“Days of Remembrance” is a mystical memoir of my brother’s passing, more specifically the days following his death. The print version will be out soon. They’ve invited us to read their digital version at https://chicagomemoryhouse.wordpress.com/