“He doesn’t say what he is thinking, which is that his church is held-breath story listening and late-night-concert ear-ringing rapture and perfect-boss fight-button pressing. That his religion is buried in the silence of freshly fallen snow, in a carefully crafted cocktail, in between the pages of a book somewhere after the beginning but before the ending.” Erin Morgenstern,The Starless Sea
The Starless Sea is one of my favorite books I’ve read this year. I love everything about it. The storyline is intricate and the characters are well-developed. It is full of mystery and surprise, and it doesn’t shy away from darker emotions.
Most of all, though, it resonates with me through little moments like this one. There is almost a holiness to the language, conjuring images and sensations that stir my soul.
I’m having a hard time putting this reflection into words. It’s something like church, though. I am a rarity among my friends in that I do actually attend church, and I find the sacred there. The care and love of a community. The big picture.
One of my favorite aspects of my faith, however, is that the divine isn’t confined to a building or a specific group of people. It’s in a million little things, like wind chimes and cloud formations. Kindness. A really good cup of coffee. A dish of water set out for the birds.
This quote reminds me of moments that make up a whole life.
“I have finally concluded, maybe that’s what life is about: there’s a lot of despair, but also the odd moment of beauty, where time is no longer the same. It’s as if those strains of music created a sort of interlude in time, something suspended, an elsewhere that had come to us, an always within never. Yes, that’s it, an always within never.” Muriel Barbery, The Elegance of the Hedgehog
Today’s post may be a little short. I’ve not been feeling well this week. I tried to push through, expecting my default version of taking it easy by going to work a little later and canceling a meeting or evening plans a couple of times would do the trick it usually does/used to do.
But no.
Last night I didn’t sleep a lot because I was up and sick with a fever and various other unpleasant symptoms. I finally admitted to myself around 4:00 that I wouldn’t be able to go in today at all.
I hate it. I’m so tired of being sick. It may be quite a while until I’m back to what I’m used to seeing as normal for me. The despair is so heavy at times that it’s almost a tangible presence.
I’m not much of a bright-sider, but I know that little touches of light and beauty are good tools to guide me out of the dark. Things like kind words from friends, the perfect cup of coffee, my favorite sweatshirt. My faith. My art. Constants that I can always depend on even when it seems like the bad things will never go away.
I’ve gotten a lot of advice on how to take it easy this year. Most of it was wisdom I specifically sought out, whether in reading or asking questions of people who had either gone through what I was going through or at least seemed like they were doing something right.
When I read this quote, it punched me in the gut a little. It was gentle enough for me to be amenable to it but strong enough for me to take notice.
One of my core values is curiosity. I love learning new things. I am fascinated by perspectives and experiences different from my own. I aim to start conversations by being open to explanations and trying to understand rather than by assuming I already know their intentions and have decided they’re the worst.
This practice has served me well. I am more liberal than the average Democrat (Two-party system? More like two sides, same coin) and I live in Texas. I have a lot of…opportunities…to listen to people with whom I disagree. And with many people (not all – some people really are just assholes full of hate), when I listen to them, they let their guard down enough to listen back. And we both learn that we have more goals in common than we thought. They no longer see me as the enemy they imagined me to be.
Changing hearts and minds, one radical conservative at a time.
An echo chamber (wherein you surround yourself only with people who agree with you) is not generally conducive to this practice. My gut reaction to Dr. Walker-Barnes’s advice was immediately no.
Then the curiosity kicked in.
As I read on, I thought about all the places that I carve out in my life where I feel safe. Places where every word isn’t a constant struggle and every nuance doesn’t have to be analyzed and defined. They still challenge me and make me think (because I like that) but they at least give me a soft and loving place to do it.
I see this all over my environment. For example, the picture above was taken in my office at work. I have
Twinkle lights (that need new batteries but still – they’re there)
Pretty bottles and rocks
A nice mix of inspiring nonfiction, fiction, and poetry
Fun stuff for play and art
A visual echo chamber, if you will.
The more I read, the more I wondered what it would be like if at least one of my social media networks was an echo chamber. What if, when I opened the app, I wasn’t immediately bombarded with every snarky, petty dig someone could think to take at people who are doing what I consider to be good in the world? What would that be like?
So I tried it on Instagram. Mass unfollowing. That alone was pretty cathartic.
The days that followed, though? Heavenly. There is so much wonderful going on out there. Did you all know this? I’m a little sad that I missed out on it for so long.
It’s still not all shiny happy news, but it’s very grounding. It’s a reminder that I’m not alone (because in Texas, I often feel very, very alone).
How do you feel about echo chambers? What purpose (if any) do they serve in your life?
This week has been hectic both at work and in my personal life, but there have been so many things that have delighted and pleased me. Here are a few:
I am fascinated that such a thing as a happiness expert exists (I’m a fan, to be clear), and I enjoyed this article on their daily habits.
Roxane Gay is saying goodbye to her column Work Friend, and she wrote a beautiful send-off to it.
Dorie Greenspan of World Peace Cookies fame (and baking in general – the cookies are just how I was introduced to her) wrote a lovely piece on getting out of a personal rut/funk entitled “A book that’s bigger than you are.”
I love the Gaia Music Collective (I want to sing with 100+ people!!) but I especially loved this arrangement. I played this song for my piano recital the same month my childhood friend Ginger died, and it always reminds me of her.
I hope you have a wonderful weekend full of all your favorite things and people!
This was a momentous week. This was the first week of the whole year that I had zero doctor’s appointments. Also no labs, no tests, no treatments, no “here is what this next thing is going to cost you” meetings. Nothing. It’s been nice. I could get used to this. I mean, I won’t, because soon I start radiation and will have a treatment every day. But it’s been good to have a break.
Inspiration has come from a lot of places this week. Enjoy!
I love this commencement speech that Reshma Saujani gave at Smith last year. Down with imposter syndrome!
This is terrifying and inspiring and bring it on (the menopause, to be clear. Some of the rest of it can just skip me right over, thanks.).
I love this piece by Shawn Smucker. We are dancing animals! So we go to independent bookstores like Nooks to commune with other dancing animals.
One of my favorite things that show up in my inbox is Susannah Conway’s newsletter. I started following for pics of her cat and the occasional backyard fox, but she also shares a lot of wisdom and a glimpse into the kind of life I’d like to lead someday. She has several online courses, one of which starts on Monday. Journal Your Life sounds perfect for establishing a journal practice if you don’t know where to start or if you just need a few pointers to make it joyful enough to stick even on don’t-wanna days.
Finally, this week I read You Can Talk to God LikeThat by Abby Norman, and it was exactly what I needed to hear right now. I met Abby online many years ago, and she’s been one of my favorite people for spiritual encouragement and wisdom ever since. I’m probably going to talk more about this book in its own post once I process my feelings a little more, but if you were raised to always praise and always be thankful and maybe stuff your anger/hurt/disappointment down under a blanket of false positivity, Abby is here to tell you that’s bullshit, and I heartily second that emotion.
This week was a lot. First week back to work after surgery, and it went pretty well. We had two Freshman Orientation sessions this week, so our team was running around everywhere between tabling, talking to parents, giving tours, and answering the phone that kept ringing off the hook. And next week’s schedule looks the same.
So this weekend is all about relaxing! I’m gonna DoorDash some dinner tonight (and maybe breakfast tomorrow, too) and read to my heart’s content. Well, read until I fall asleep. I am not sure there are enough hours ever to fully reach my heart’s content when it comes to reading.
Links for this week:
I finally broke down and started a GoFundMe for my medical expenses after learning how much I would have to pay out of pocket for my upcoming radiation treatments. But this is the last major phase of treatment – it’s all just ongoing prevention and checkups after that!
I’m very excited for my friend Andi who recently signed a contract with a publisher for all her books! I also really like her YouTube channel.
Lessons in Chemistry is one of my favorite books I’ve read in the last few years. Easily top five. This interview with author Bonnie Garmus makes me love it even more. Success really is the best revenge.
Welp, I did it. I subscribed to Archer and Olive, and I just got the notification that my June box was delivered. So I have that to look forward to later this evening!
Finally, I love the Quiet Life community Susan Cain has created, and one of the neatest things they do is the community art project.
Happy June! I am nearing the end of my post-surgery convalescence. I have had a few doctor’s appointments and dealt with a nasty bout of nausea last week, but otherwise, I’ve pretty much been spending the past two weeks eating, sleeping, and reading. In other words, living my best life. I won’t go so far as to say it’s been a vacation – healing from surgery isn’t my idea of a good time – but it’s definitely been restful and quiet.
I’ve become a fan of DoorDash. I just ordered an omelet this morning, and it was on my doorstep by the time I put in a load of laundry and made coffee. I could get used to this.
Another wonderful thing is that I’ve regained some of the focus I lost during chemo. I’ve already finished several books this month, and I have ambitions to finish many more. My reading lately has been cozy and homey with a nod to Pride Month sprinkled in, and most of my selections for this month seem to continue this trend.
Book Clubs (which I may actually be able to attend again soon!)
I’m definitely making up for my lost year with the number of reading challenges I’m attempting. It’s been a fun way to choose what to read next. This month, I’m mostly focusing my efforts on the summer reading challenges. My yearly favorite is Modern Mrs. Darcy’s Summer Reading Guide. As a Patreon supporter, I have access to the whole guide in all its glory, but I’m working through the books that are out so far from the Minimalist list first:
Lies and Weddings by Kevin Kwan (already read and…maybe my last Kevin Kwan. Or maybe I try reading only print copies, because I really did not enjoy the audio of this one or Crazy Rich Asians. Or does he write any books about people whose biggest problems aren’t gaining or maintaining ungodly wealth and prestige? Because he’s a good writer – I might enjoy a story of his if he wrote about characters I could actually sympathize with or if I could care at all whether they get what they want in the end.)
In addition to its year-long challenge, the 52 Book Club also has a summer mini-challenge. For extra kicks, I’m going to try finishing off these prompts in the order they’re listed. June’s selections include:
A lot of these also fit prompts from some of my year-long challenges, so bonus!
Miscellaneous Reads
As with every month, there are books that I’m reading either because I’ve borrowed them from a friend, they’re due at the library soon, or I just couldn’t resist picking them up.
I realize this is quite an ambitious list, but at the rate I’ve been reading, it’s not impossible. This is, of course, assuming that my attention span doesn’t crash and burn again, but there’s really no predicting these things. I prefer to keep my plan pretty optimistic anyway.
The past few years, I’ve made a summer bucket list. Mostly, I’ve done it because I have to talk myself into liking summer as a season because it is so, so hot in Texas and that’s the worst. It also keeps me more grounded in the present instead of always focusing on future plans. And of course, making these lists is also a good way to check in with goals to either make sure I’m on track or get myself back on track.
So why not do that with every season?
Here are some things I want to do this spring.
Buy fresh flowers. I have received so many flowers this year, and it’s been lovely. I mean, some of them have made me sneeze and thus had to live elsewhere for a little while. But I really love seeing fresh flowers when I come home. Bonus to picking out/buying them myself? I know I’ll get what I love and still be able to breathe normally.
Plant citrus trees. My friend Jessica gave me a bunch of citrus seeds, and soon (this weekend, maybe?) I’m going to plant them in buckets to see if they come up. I’ve already got the pots and the soil, so all that’s left to do is plant!
Drink tea and read when it rains. It rains so much this time of year, and I don’t take advantage of that nearly as often as I could. A cup of tea and a good book are excellent accompaniments to a chorus of rain. It’s my ideal quiet morning/afternoon/any time.
Play springy playlist when cooking. Cooking is relaxing to me, but lately it’s been mostly a utilitarian, get-in-get-out, cutting-corners process. I want to reintroduce my former habit of playing music to set the mood and make cooking more fun. I have all sorts of playlists for this already (brunch, spring, etc.); it’s just a matter of remembering to put one on when I start.
Get my feet ready for sandal season. I often neglect my feet during winter. I’ve been doing better this year out of necessity (the neuropathy side effects of chemo are no joke), but I still want to give them a little extra TLC before I expose them to the elements with summer footwear.
Re-establish my strength routine and take some long walks. My back seized up for the first time ever last week. Clearly a sign that I’ve been slacking on my core strength. Or that I’m just getting older. But a solid strength routine and regular walks can only help with both physical and mental health, so I want to make both a priority again.
Visit the Denton Community Market. This is the best place to get local, seasonal produce. Also, it’s just one of my favorite things Denton does. Bonus to going in spring rather than summer – the weather outside may actually be bearable.
Life seems to be plodding along lately. I am not doing a lot of things I’d usually do because I don’t have the energy (and also there are so, so many germs out there that my body just can’t handle being around right now). My treatment has hit a small hiccup (delayed due to concerning lab results – nothing too drastic or out of the ordinary, I’m assured), and that’s frustrating.
But I’m getting through it without too many terrors, so I guess that’s something.
This weekend, I participated in Dewey’s 24-hour Readathon. And by participated, I do mean read sporadically and fell asleep a lot. I finished one of the books I started, though, and I’ll probably finish another tonight. I don’t see me finishing the book for book club by tomorrow. It’s a long one, and while I started it last month, I haven’t been reading consistently so time got away from me a bit.
The whole weekend was so relaxing. I even got some journaling in, and I remembered my word for the year.
Quiet.
In many ways, it has been quieter simply because I’m doing less and staying home more. I’m even doing less when I’m at home. I still clean and work on projects but in much shorter spurts. I haven’t had the attention span to read as much as usual. I’ve decided that while I’m still going to try to complete some of my reading challenges, writing reviews for each book I do read is probably not a reasonable expectation this year. So it’s been quieter here, too.
But when I do leave home, everything is so intense.
I’m not just going to work; I’m rushing through getting things done because I’m out so much with appointments and don’t want to miss anything important. Also, my office is moving (again) into a louder part of the office (again). One day, I’ll actually get to settle into this position and feel like I have my head on straight. I hope.
I’m not just getting regular check-ups but intense treatments that make me feel puny, and that affects every other aspect of my life.
I’m attending very few social events, but I feel way more social than usual because I’m trying to keep people informed and constantly answering questions of “How are you doing?” and “How can I help?” which are very sweet questions to ask. I do miss, however, having conversations about literally anything else. I’m so tired of talking about myself (which I realize may not be believable given that I’m currently doing so on the internet but…you get it).
What I want to explore this week is carving out quiet spaces in the chaos. I want to turn my new office into a calm area where I can be productive without getting overstimulated. I want to give myself buffers around my appointments so that I am not just darting to them and rushing back but having a chance to process (or just breathe) a little before I jump right into the next thing. I want to be bolder about changing the subject when I can’t possibly fathom talking about my body or my needs for one minute longer. Simply ending these conversations when I need to is also a good alternative.
I enjoy solitude and quiet time, so while this is a challenge, it’s a welcome one. In fact, I think it’s just what I need to get myself back to some semblance of what I meant this year to be.
This week has been a mix of ups and downs, but it has felt like the most normal week I’ve had so far this year. I got to see some friends and had enough energy to put in almost a full week of work. I’m about to hunker down with a book and a cup of tea for the evening, but I thought I’d share a few things with you first.
One of the main things on my mind this week is the wildfires in the Texas Panhandle. My parents live a few hours south of where most of the blazes happened. So much loss, and here is how you can help.
The title “Warm House on a Quiet Day” stuck out as a cozy invitation in my inbox, but when I clicked to read it, it was so much more. Laura Grace Weldon’s words read like my constant internal monologue.
I’ve been trying to find a small, portable snack and ran across this little gem – savory oatmeal cookies. I made the rosemary/parmesan ones. This weekend, I may experiment with subbing thyme, adding dried cherries, and leaving out all the dairy for the next batch. I feel like the possibilities are endless, and I am committed to exploring them with reckless abandon.
This piece by Lisa Bartelt is beautiful. My church is coming through for me in lovely, astounding ways these days, and it’s been a good reminder of why I picked them and why I choose to keep coming back. But even during more normal seasons, the rituals and the community I have there work wonders in my soul.
And finally, I got to go to a vigil for Nex Benedict last night, and it was lovely. Following up a bit from last week, here is a list of resources from OUTreach Denton that can help you learn about how to get more involved in advocating for LGBTQ+ folk, particularly youth. Most of these are based in the DFW area, but I encourage you to look for resources around where you live if you’re not local to me.
I hope you’ve had a good week, and I hope you have an even better weekend!
M. Suzanne Terry 