Another busy week, another busy weekend. This one is going to be pretty exciting, though. Tomorrow is the dress rehearsal for our Advent/Christmas program at church, which we will present on Sunday morning. And then Sunday night, my band Wenepa is playing at Rubber Gloves at 8:30.
(I mean, it’s Chickasaw – not Cherokee – for “noise” and also we’re a quartet – not a quintet – but…close?)
I have not had a lot of focus this week (or for the last six months, but who’s counting), so I didn’t read as much as I wanted to. Here are some things I did finish/run across. Enjoy!
The Once and Future Witches by Alix E. Harrow – I had high hopes for this one. I had heard a lot of good things about it. But my overall impression? Meh. The storyline was okay. The characters were fine. I liked it enough to at least finish it. It just didn’t stand out. If you like historical fiction with some magic thrown in, you may enjoy it.
To Fall in Love, Drink This: A Wine Writer’s Memoir by Alice Feiring – Alice Feiring is the reason I started drinking mostly organic, unfussed-around-with wines, and to this day, most of my favorites fit in this category. I tabbed so much of this book as she listed hundreds of wines to try and what she finds interesting about them. I also enjoyed the stories of her family and her career. It was a quick, informative, and fun read.
I love this piece about making even mundane tasks or errands into an event. I mean, I’m not sure that I need to add another stop to errands, so I love the theme of the piece more than some of the specific details. Sign me up for at least one pasta/wine night a week at home with music and comfy clothes, though. I, too, like certain moments in that movie (Because I Said So) and that scene (as well as several other scenes…and Gabriel Macht…) for those same reasons. It looks like a good life.
I think I might be starting to find my rhythm in the new job. This week was always going to feel a little lighter, as the halls are officially open for the semester, so there are so many more people across campus to help put out fires with fall residents as they come up. But it also feels lighter in terms of I may…actually know what I’m…doing…now? For the most part? I say with some minor hesitation and a continual knocking on the nearest wooden object?
Here are some things I read this week that I thought you might enjoy.
The low dopamine morning debunked. After a quick googling on what constitutes a “low dopamine” morning, I didn’t even really care about the details of the science that debunked it; I’m just glad it did. Because it sounds dreadful. Like…just the very worst way to greet a new day. I have 0/10 interest in giving up whatever small pleasure I can scrounge out of waking up, even if it did have some marginal benefit. I also enjoyed the reminder that habits are meant to be flexible, not rigid. This article was very soothing overall.
The Travelling Cat Chronicles by Hiro Arikawa – I had to read this one fast because someone else put it on hold at the library, but I’m so glad I had time to do so. Anyone who’s ever loved a cat should read this. Very sweet story about family and friendship from the perspective of a persnickety and adorable cat named Nana.
Andi’s piece on how to write a book in a month (and also maybe…don’t) is just what I needed to read right now. I mean, I don’t write full books in that short a time even in easy months, but August is often a time when my creative writing gets put on hold because the full-time job is so busy (and has been especially so this year). Although that all makes logical sense and I know I’ll be back to it with a fervor in September, I always manage to feel bad about it on some level. Grateful to Andi for these words.
I don’t follow basketball at all, but I’m so glad some of my friends do. This is such a wonderful moment, and I’m glad I didn’t miss the end of Dwyane Wade’s Basketball Hall of Fame speech.
Anxious People by Fredrik Backman – Our book club discussed this one on Tuesday. This is the second time I read this book, and I loved it even more than I did the first time I read it. It’s quite charming and witty. I think what I like most about Fredrik Backman’s books is that I usually like every single character in them (or almost every character). He is very good at showing their vulnerabilities and humanity. And I’m always a little sad that they’ve ended when I finish reading them.
Friends, I hope you’ve had a good week and have a great weekend!
From The Museum of Ordinary People by Mike Gayle – “The older you get, the more home becomes about people rather than place, I think. The older you get, the more roots are about where you want to be rather than where you come from.”
Our cookbook club meets tonight, and the theme is pickles. Up until this week, I was going to make cheddar and dill biscuits but it’s so very hot, so I’ve made pickled carrots and bought a nice cheese to go with them instead. I love sharing food with these folks. It’s one of the things I look forward to the most each month.
This piece – “The Poetics of Family Life” – outlined some interesting insights into the home being its own harmonious entity, not just a reflection of public life and its guidelines. It’s more zoned toward families, but there are some nuggets of wisdom that I’m chewing on for myself, too.
It will depend on how much the paycheck actually changes in the next few months, of course, but I am already breathing easier about finances. The thought of being able to not only make my overall budget and beef up my savings but also have enough left over to go out for dinner/drinks with friends a few times a month without sticking to a diet of pb&j and ramen the week before payday, or replace worn-out clothing and shoes as needed without having to dip into an emergency fund, or just buy cute little upgrades for my home like these pillows on a consistent basis is so incredibly freeing. I might even be able to start a fun fund within the next year for extravagances such as vacations or a car.
On being the person you are on vacation…this is a good reminder to make time not only for the practical work that I need to do to make my home run well but also for rest and rejuvenation. I’m working through The Artist’s Way again, and while I remembered writing morning pages from the time I worked through it before (over a decade ago), I forgot the instruction to schedule a weekly artist date with yourself – something to feed your creativity. While I would argue that once a week is not enough (acknowledging, of course, that the time to be able to work in more than one a week is a privilege some don’t have), this was another gentle reminder to not let weeks slip by without being intentional about protecting my calm and creativity.
I am at the overwhelmed stage of the new job. That’s fine. Everything’s fine. But these tips on how to stay grounded and feel at home with yourself really came in handy this week. I only hyperventilated once. Good job, me!
The title of that last article also reminded me that I need to get some plants for my office because I can BECAUSE I HAVE A WINDOW NOW (those caps are excited-shouty, not angry-shouty). We’re doing two weeks of training for the student staff that I supervise, and then we open all the buildings for fall, but after that chaos has passed, I think my treat to myself after that is going to be some greenery for the office. Because I enjoy having indoor plants but not necessarily planting them, I’ll probably be scouting for new little windowsill friends at True Leaf Studio.
“Home wasn’t a set house, or a single town on a map. It was wherever the people who loved you were, whenever you were together. Not a place, but a moment, and then another, building on each other like bricks to create a solid shelter that you take with you for your entire life, wherever you may go.” – Sarah Dessen, from What Happened to Goodbye
In exploring the concept of home, I’ve noticed that certain things stand out to me. For the rest of the year, a few of our Friday Fives are going to focus on books and think pieces that have sparked reflections about some of those things.
Shawn Smucker’s piece On the Road Again – “Now that I”m 46, homesickness is more of an ache for the place and the people where I belong, where I fit.” I spent most of last weekend on my parents’ farm, with a brief stint at the cousin’s place to attend a graduation party for his oldest child who is now an actual grown-up. [Aside – WHAT. I swear he was just born a minute ago.] It was so good to catch up with the extended family I came from, and we’re going to need to do that more often. I also really love coming back to Denton after a weekend away, though. Walking into my messy apartment where everything is mine and is just where I left it gives me a special kind of peace.
The Secret of Poppyridge Cove by Rimmy London – Should you use an inheritance to buy a great house that comes with some land and a private beach entrance but that is also possibly haunted and/or frequented by a (maybe) serial killer? I know the “responsible” answer to this fantasy scenario is probably no, especially when the money is not all in the bank account quite yet, but then I had to keep turning up the volume on this audiobook to hear it over my upstairs neighbors and their cute dogs committing the grievous act of walking across the room in their own apartment, so WHERE DO I SIGN?! I am inspiring/torturing myself with a lot of books lately that revolve around the act of buying a home and making it yours (even if there are bumps and possibly corpses along the way). I liked both this one and A Traitor at Poppyridge Cove, and I’m looking forward to the rest of the series.
The Year of Pleasures by Elizabeth Berg – I’m not saying that, when I retire, I’m going to put everything in storage and just drive until I find the town and house I want to live in, but this book makes a good argument for it. I really enjoyed it. Yes, as a couple of the online reviews state, it does read a little bit like a Hallmark Christmas movie (minus the Christmas). But there are so many poignant moments about grief and friendship and delicious food and community that it might have well had my name in the title because clearly it was written for me. It wasn’t just finding a place to land that helped the main character through her grief but also remembering to find joy in small, ordinary pleasures and with the people who showed up alongside her. I could use that reminder myself from time to time.
I love the way Christie Purifoy writes about place. In this guest post, she pursues the answer to the question, “What if our homes could be places that bring us back to life?” I love being at home, but sometimes I’m overwhelmed by the sheer volume of things I want to get done there. I get started with one project and then have to work or be somewhere else, so it takes longer than I would like to make a dent or a difference. But at other times, I look out my patio door at the tiny garden that is thriving, or I sit in my office among my books and glance up to see one I’d forgotten I had, and I’m filled with gratitude for this little space of mine. More of these life-giving moments, please.
How To Keep House While Drowning by KC Davis – This is the book I didn’t even know I needed right now. Usually with advice-laden books, I take notes because 1) that’s my best learning style, and 2) I want a succinct list of highlights to review later. I didn’t do that with this one because it’s short and I own it so I just decided to tab the pages. I have so many tabbed spots. It’s the tabbing equivalent of highlighting the whole book. But at just over 150 pages (if you include the appendix and the acknowledgments), it’s so rich in information. My favorite takeaway is that care tasks (whether for home or self) are morally neutral. You are not a better or worse person/adult based on how much you get done. I want this lesson to permeate my whole life this year. I already know it in my head but my heart and soul take a minute to catch up.
I’m very much looking forward to an easy weekend. Rest. Recoup. Also, dishes and maybe dusting. Putting some of those principles from Davis’s book into practice.
I had a readathon this weekend, and I forgot how nice and relaxing they are. I needed that. I didn’t realize how much I needed it until I looked at my calendar Friday evening, saw that I only had one additional thing scheduled the whole weekend (dinner at my friends’ house where I was plied with delicious food and wine and got to see their dog Charlie and catch up with them and watch TV – so, even the one thing was super low key), and burst into tears of relief.
Welp, that’s telling.
In mental health news, it has been noted that I am describing a greater number of stress responses than usual in sessions. There are probably several factors. First, it’s the end of the semester, and transitions between application periods always have the potential for instability and extra wackiness. Even when the work week is reasonably calm – like last week was – just the awareness that this time of the year is particularly prone to changing in an instant is stressful.
I am also – once again – trying to do too much and not taking the time I know I need for proper rest and restoration. The writing project I’m focusing on is deeply personal and is uncovering some things I probably need to address in future sessions. And then there’s the ongoing, underlying theme of my brain’s particular neurospicy cocktail, which ensures that common elements in several environments I frequent often trigger an acute stress response, just as a matter of course.
A reasonable question might be, “Can’t you just avoid environments that hurt you?” As we discovered during the stay-in-place times during the height of the pandemic, the answer is yes – absolutely I can. That is technically a possibility that I could put in place if I really needed to, as these responses are rarely triggered at home. But since the aforementioned environments do allow me to do nice things like pay for food and rent or engage in creative pursuits and also socialize ever, they’re not really situations I would want to avoid, even if, technically, I could.
Up until recently, any time someone would mention the concept of fight vs. flight, I would state that I’m almost all fight. But while that may have been true at certain points in my life, I don’t think it is anymore. I still occasionally react in a tight jaw/tense muscles/knotted gut sort of way, but even then it tends to stay bottled up and internal, in ready-to-fight mode. More often, I get fidgety, which is more flight, or preparing to run away.
To my great dismay, though, the most common acute stress response I have these days is fawn. Particularly when the stressor is social. And it doesn’t have to be a big stressor – just something catching me off guard, conflict (even mild ones), someone talking more loudly than I can readily process, a slamming door (i.e., the doors at work all day every day), etc. I turn into this over-the-top people pleaser, which is not at all my usual personality. I switch into accommodation mode, giving the other people/person in the situation whatever they want or letting them control it completely. I become overly complimentary, saying things that, while they are truly what I think, are also in that moment specifically spoken to soothe their stress and, by extension, my own. I do anything I can to appear compliant, non-threatening, gracious, and useful.
These things are not bad ways to be in general. But because I know it’s a stress response, and thus that the intention behind it is more about avoiding further stress than actual helpfulness, it doesn’t feel good. It’s not an honest interaction, but it seems to come across as one. It feels phony, and it’s hard not to judge myself harshly for that, even though stress responses are typically harder (impossible? I wonder) to control. At any rate, it’s my least favorite version of me, especially when I comply by doing something I didn’t actually want to do, but did do, and then felt compelled to either keep pretending that I wanted to or end the madness with an awkward conversation where I say all these convoluted things out loud and utterly confuse/hurt/disappoint everyone involved.
[That last sentence is what everything in my brain sounds like right now.]
Also, my skin hates it when I feel this way, and it’s acting out. That’s annoying. And itchy.
So that thing I was doing during Lent – taking the two time-outs per week instead of just one? I’m going back to that. It requires some creative corralling of my schedule for my second job, but it’s so worth it. I look forward to being myself most of the time again.
What are some things you do (or stop doing) to relieve stress?
Words, books, and mugs. And bats (because Halloween).
My desk at work is typically sparse and no-nonsense. This is likely a residual effect from working for so long in shared spaces where I didn’t have any personal space that was just my own. But this month, I’ve actually decorated the space, and it makes a big difference in its coziness. It’s still not a great location, but at least I am surrounded by things I love.
My home office is one of my favorite spaces in my apartment. Even when it’s impossibly messy (as it is now, which is why there’s no picture), it’s still cozy. It sparks creativity and excitement about whatever project I happen to be working on. I occasionally take my laptop into the living room because I think it will be more comfortable, but I almost always end up back in the office before my task is complete. I write faster and better in the office.
I think one of the reasons for this is that I have purposefully designed my home office to represent the life I want to eventually have. Once I’m retired from UNT and have more time to write and create (and perhaps actually make a dent in reading my gargantuan collection), I imagine doing so in a place that looks just like this room. So when I step through the door, I can almost pretend I’m already there.
I spend a lot of time thinking about the perfect bookshelf. I lean toward the tall and simple, but I have to admit that I’m mesmerized by the more asymmetrical pieces. I really love the look of them. Maybe I’ll have more of them in my home if I ever move into a larger space. One of my bookshelves is sort of like that. It folds into the corner, and it’s not as tall as the rest, so the top shelf is more decorative with a cute bookend and a large cup and saucer planter.
Imagine an elephant holding up the books on the left. So cute!
I have old coffee cups and mason jars scattered throughout the room, holding everything from pens and pencils to binder clips or bookmarks. My current knitting project sits at my feet by the desk so that I have something to do with my hands during meetings.
And of course, I’m surrounded by books. That alone would make it a hard space to beat.
In seeking ways to create a lush life, it’s been amazing to discover that just tweaking the physical environment is enough to put me in a more extravagant and abundant headspace.
Do you have a particular space that fuels your creativity? What’s it like?
Once I started exploring what it means to have a lush life, the word cozy kept coming up. And the more I started searching for cozy things, the more I kept running into posts and books about hygge. For those unfamiliar with the term (and clearly not on Pinterest, because it is all over Pinterest), hygge is a Danish concept that takes cozy to the next level. In addition to embracing comfort, it also includes elements of warmth, well-being, and connection.
I’m way down the hygge rabbit hole, so it’s likely to come up a few times this month. If you want a quick and charming crash course, I recommend The Little Book of Hygge by Meik Wiking. Today, I’m giving you a brief overview of the five dimensions of hygge he outlines, which are essentially ways you can experience the phenomenon through your senses. Everyone’s preferences are going to be different, but I’ve included examples of mine. This is a particularly useful exercise for me, as I am easily overwhelmed by sensory input. It’s good to intentionally make note of the ones I enjoy.
Taste
Food is a big part of comfort, and the Danes know this. They have a whole pastry named after their nationality (which I really need to try in Denmark, I think. You know, to get the full experience.). When I think of cozy food, things that are familiar and satisfying come to mind:
Soups with a side of crusty bread
Eggs and toast
Oatmeal with dried fruit and maple syrup
Stir fry/warm salads
Peaches, nectarines, and apricots (really any fresh fruit, but those are my faves)
Antipasti – any combination of cheese, bread/crackers, pickles/olives, maybe salami or fruit
Burgers
Potatoes in any form. Particularly if there is also cheese involved.
There are also specific flavors that fit in this category for me. I love coconut and caramel and peppermint (not all together, though). And of course, a nice cup of coffee or hot tea increases the cozy factor of any activity.
Sound
I love rainy day sounds. Not just the rain but the things I like to do inside when there’s a storm outside. The tink of knitting needles. Soft instrumental music, particularly piano and/or acoustic base. Pages turning as I read. The washer and dryer running. Small sipping sounds as I try to drink my cup of tea before it’s cool enough to do so (this is the only eating/drinking sound I like at all, btw. All the rest are gross and upsetting. This is a hill I am prepared to die on.).
One of the reasons I find coffee shops so comforting is the combination of sounds coming from behind the counter. Kettles boiling. The clinks and clunks of the espresso machine. Coffee dripping and pouring. It’s very much what I imagine Heaven must sound like.
Also…when cats ekekekekek. That’s some good ASMR right there.
Smell
Coffee. Vanilla and butter. Citrus. Tomato or pea plants. Fresh bread. Food smells, basically, are my favorites.
The other scents I think of as comforting are those that remind me of a particular time, place, or event. For example, the very specific smell that hits me when I open up Mom’s Christmas cabinet where she stores all her decorations. It’s sort of like an apple/cinnamon smell but not quite.
Touch
One of the first things I did after I chose the word lush for my theme this year was to buy new bed linens. There was nothing wrong with the ones I had, but they were getting a little worn and scratchy. [So, I guess there was something wrong with them. I just feel wasteful if I get rid of something before it’s absolutely unusable (no worries – they have been refurbished into decorations/costumes).] I love flannel sheets, and I use them all year long. I also bought a comforter that is slightly weighted (not too much! Most weighted blankets are too much!), which helps me fall asleep. I like drinking out of glass or ceramic receptacles. I will drink out of metal or plastic or paper cups, but it’s just not the same.
I think I’ve gotten to the point where I absolutely refuse to wear hard pants. Jeans, slacks, anything that you have to button/zip? Not interested. I don’t even know that I own any such thing anymore. My daily attire is all dresses and skirts with either shorts or leggings. Comfy shoes that are designed for long hours roaming bookstores. Sweaters and other layers just in case the temperature suddenly changes because Texas. Bookcore for life.
Sight
I’m going to go into this more when I talk about having a cozy home later in the month, so I won’t dwell now, but muted lighting (I’m in the market for lamps), candles, and twinkle lights are my jam. I love dark, rich colors (and yes, classically eccentric is a good name for my preferred decorating style). In pictures or movie scenes or art, I prefer slow-moving ease to bustle. I favor open sky and beaches over woods or forest. I need intentional blank space in decorating, too.
My favorite part of this picture is the reflection of the sheet music in the black keys.
Other than the benefits and the frequent free food, one reason I stay at my full-time job is that I will be officially eligible to retire on August 1, 2030. That’s just eight years away (or seven years, nine months, and 27 days, but who’s counting). Assuming I am in a good financial position to do so at that point, this will allow me to dedicate significantly more time to what I actually want to be when/as I grow up.
An artist.
More specifically, a writer/musician/dancer, but I’m open to other forms of art. The relatively small amount of time I spend working on my works in progress, writing this blog, collaborating with Sarah and other friends, singing in the choir, and other artsy pursuits is what makes me come alive. It is my joy. Retiring this early will also afford me some flexibility in my schedule for attending performances (as well as performing in them) because there will be no office to report to the next morning. I can finally fully embrace the night owl I was born to be.
One of the most challenging realizations I’ve had this year while pondering what it means to live lushly is that doing a job that is consistent but doesn’t really allow me to use my strengths or do what I enjoy puts inherent limits on how much of such a life I can really have right now. Is it worth it? Is there something else I could be doing that would be more rewarding and still give me the stability I currently need? I don’t have answers to these questions yet, but the questions have prompted me to look for ways to incorporate my creative skills into the work I do and to be pickier about the things I volunteer for that don’t really fit my preferences.
At the very least, engaging in creative activities gives me something to look forward to, even if it’s not how I spend most of my time. I’m excited to go to choir practice tonight. And after taking a few years off, I signed up for NaNoWriMo next month. I’m going to try writing my novel in second person. That’s about as far into planning as I’ve gotten, which is actually good for this particular time frame because I write a lot faster as a pantser than a planner.
I often come to the new year feeling as if I haven’t quite finished exploring the word for the previous one. In a way, this makes sense. Growth is continual, lifelong, etc. I wanted my word for 2022 to acknowledge that. My first thought was “nourish.” I wanted to look forward and continue to grow in all the things I have learned these past few years. I want to continue to have experiences and read books that explore joy, but also that feature hope, wild, alive, lucky, fun, true, and other core values.
But LUSH encompasses my underlying goal better. There is an implied immoderate quality to this word. Not just growth but a lot of growth. An abundance of growth. A fullness. All the growth I can possibly squeeze into this little pocket of time and space. Maybe I should add “rest” to that list above so that I remember that it, too, is important. Overworked and stressed out does not fit in with a lush lifestyle. Healthy is a vital part of the definition.
“…covered with healthy green plants”
I am currently looking for a place in my apartment to put a huge Poinsettia that I bought in honor of my MeMaws for the Christmas season at church and gazing fondly at my faux Christmas tree. I don’t even want to think about what’s happening in the office with The Little Juniper That Could (but if I did want to think of it, I might confess that I fear its days are numbered. RIP, probably). On the porch outside, my briefly successful tomato plant has long given up the ghost (but that’s not my fault – that’s just on account-a it being not summer), but the flowers that died when I was caring for them have resurrected now that I’ve stopped doing anything, which seems unnecessarily petty of them.
When it comes to plants, I have great plans and motivation but little success. I’m going to take this part of the definition literally. My goal? Have a live, thriving plant in each room. Also, flowers on the table make me happy, so I’m going to make more of an effort to do that more often.
Don’t think I didn’t notice that they snuck in “healthy” again. I see what you did there, M-W.
“…having a pleasingly rich quality”
I love this turn of phrase. Yes, I would like this to describe my life. In many ways, it already does. But wouldn’t it be amazing if just about every aspect of my life had a pleasingly rich quality? I think so. Let’s delve deeper into how to make that happen this year.
“…lavishly productive: such as…”
…fertile. NOPE. Unless we’re talking about a fertile bank account. Or garden. Or birthing a book and an album. Otherwise? Nope, nope, nope.
…thriving. That would be lovely. Not just to make it through but to flourish.
…abundant/plentiful. Are we talking about books? Trips? Friends? Coffee? Peace? Love? Kindness? Cash? To all of the above I say yes.
…prosperous/profitable. I could definitely handle a little prosperity. Let me go submit some more applications and write some more articles. What I would really like? Get paid for the work I already do in my spare time (and that I actually enjoy) so that I can ultimately spend more time doing it and also still have a place to live. #CapitalismIsTrash
…savory/delicious. I’m not sure if this means enjoying more savory and delicious things or recognizing how savory and delicious I am. Either way, I’m on board.
…appealing to the senses. As a sensory sensitive person, this is a welcome goal. Too much of my time and energy are spent having my focus derailed by extraneous, irritating sounds or that smell that NO ONE ELSE CAN SMELL BUT IT’S THERE I’M NOT IMAGINING IT BECAUSE IMAGINARY THINGS DON’T MAKE ME SNEEZE. Finding ways to better navigate (escape?) consistently assaulting environments would be grand.
…exuberant/profuse. With vigor and vitality, and without restraint. There are some areas of my life that could definitely use this treatment.
…opulent/sumptuous. Oh, gosh I love these words. Also known as rich, luxurious, lavish. Splendid. And ostentatiously so. These words make me want to crawl right into a cozy bed with scandalously soft fabrics and pillows of the exact right firmness. Or a warm bubble bath with a glass of wine and some good cheese.
And finally, speaking of wine…
“…intoxicating liquor” or “…a habitual heavy drinker”
I mean, it’s not a goal, per se (although my limoncello, while mostly delicious, could use some tweaking). But if it happens, it happens. Here’s to enjoying life a little more and worrying about what all could go wrong a little less. Just as long as I remember to hydrate.
Well, here it is. The end-of-the-year review. I feel like a lot has been said about the world in general, and I’m tired and a little sad tonight, so I’m not interested in recapping it (didn’t I do this last year, too? I remember being very melancholy last year at this time. Maybe that’s just who I am now.). So I’m going to go through the year I thought I was going to have, how it changed for me personally, and maybe some more things as I ramble on.
First, some goal-setting changes: 1. I love resolutions, but I maintain the flexibility to adapt them. I did this really well this year – mostly out of necessity but also because it just makes sense to set goals that way. To work toward what you want until you get it or don’t really want it anymore or figure out something you want more. 2. Instead of plotting all the short-term tasks needed to reach goals in a chart for each month at the beginning of the year, I plotted one month at a time and based the new standards for each month on the previous month’s actual accomplishment (it’s like I KNEW) (I did not know) (No one knew). I like this much better, and it gives me a much clearer picture of the real progress I’m making. 3. I took the month of December off from the reward system of checking things off. Mostly I did this to just take a break from it, which was needed. But also it gave me a chance to see what habits actually stuck when I removed the reward of a check mark or a crossed-off item. Very illuminating.
Official resolutions I made at the beginning of the year and how they went: 1. Read 120 books. I did not quite make it. But, considering that I went for about four months where I had the attention span of a gnat and couldn’t read for more than five minutes at a time (I read a total of six books during those four months), I think my final total of 96 is still pretty respectable. 2. Finish Fishbowl again – nope. Although I’ve made considerable progress. 3. Keep up with microfictions on Ello – yes…ish. I haven’t even checked lately to see if Ello is still a thing. But I have written a LOT of microfiction and short stories. I didn’t set a specific number to write every month, so I didn’t keep count, but that was the main creative writing I did. 4. Perform with Spiderweb – yes x2! I was in the last in-person show, collaborating with Sarah Ruth for Spiderweb Loves You on Valentines Day. And I had a spot in our online Spiderdead in November playing an original not-really-a-composition-but-more-like-a-prompt called Maybe Hope is a Terrible Idea. 5. Find a doctor – yes. Done. 6. Find a new dentist and eye doctor – not yet. Have people picked out to try, though, in the first few months of the new year. 7. Continue to build Pilates practice – yes, but not back with the in-person classes yet (although my studio has been great with upping the cleanliness standards and thinking outside the box and serving customers – really proud of the way they’ve done things). When we started working from home in March, I accepted a 30-day strength challenge with Jessica and Mary in my office, though, and I incorporated a lot of Pilates stuff in that and have expanded it and kept up with it pretty well. I may be able to test into Level 2 classes when I return. 8. Work – vague resolution about continuing to figure out what I want to do with my life that got put on the back burner when I was just happy to still have work. 9. Word of the year was “alive” and we know how I feel about that. So that’s that.
Goals I didn’t have at the beginning of the year but added and met anyway: 1. Reduce plastic use and trash production. I started putting trash day as Monday on my calendar (I needed help remembering some things – see note above re: attention span). I soon found myself finding ways to prolong it to another day to see how long I could go without filling up the trash cans. I’m up to three weeks (except in the kitchen because food-adjacent waste really shouldn’t sit in my house for three weeks but I just use smaller bags). 2. Reduce food waste – my fridge had a hard year and I think it’s on its way to dying. My freezer still works great, though, so I began freezing leftovers. I’m down to almost zero food waste, so I think that’s a habit I’ll keep even when I have a fixed/new fridge. 3. Automate shipments – toilet paper, toothpaste tabs (the Bits ones – plastic free packaging!), laundry sheets (also plastic free!), etc. I needed to take things out of my headspace this year, so I automated a lot of shipments of things I normally would just run an extra errand to get when I ran out. Now I don’t run out. Great decision – 10/10 – highly recommend.
Things I learned about myself: 1. I’m way more adaptable than I thought I was. Like…my response to chaos has mostly been to fight and thrive (relatively speaking). 2. I am very particular about who I trust. And I like that about me. I mean, I’ll extend a basic trust to most people – I don’t want into new relationships assuming they’re shady – but past that basic trust? It has to be earned. 3. I can like and get along with someone without trusting them or letting them affect me. This makes me good at standing up for other people, and I want to practice that more in the future. 4. I need to be touched. Like…regularly. I knew this already but I really really know it now.
I lost a few people I love this year (some COVID-related, some not), and that’s been hard. I also had a few heartbreaks, one in particular that was really heavy and terrible. I feel like I’m in perpetual heartbreak these days, and I don’t know how to not be. I’m really trying to seek joy in the midst of it anyway.
Finally, to end on a sort of positive note, some highlights: 1. Staying connected to Spiderweb even though it’s online and particularly to the You Are Here support group 2. Monday night text study 3. Book clubs! 4. So many artists adapting to online performance and sharing really beautiful things 5. So many local businesses adjusting to changes and finding new ways to serve customers 6. The Science of Well-Being – free course from Yale 7. Wake and Bake fundraising boxes of baked goods 8. Backyard hangouts with people who love me
M. Suzanne Terry 