On the remaining Saturdays of the month, I want to talk about why keeping house is important to me. As today is World Mental Health Day, I thought it fitting to talk about how keeping house affects my mental health (and, by extension, the rest of my life).
So what does it matter if my home is in order? If I live alone, and I’m the only one it really affects, why let it affect me?
First, it’s bold to assume that I have complete control over what affects me. Sure, I can make choices about what deserves my attention and think positively. But when clutter reaches a certain level, my brain is pretty much going to remain in a state of low-grade fight-or-flight until it’s fixed. Overstimulation is an attack on my senses, and my body responds accordingly. Keeping house protects my nervous system and, by extension, my peace.
Second, I have often said that I don’t understand when people tell me to get out of my comfort zone because that isn’t really something that exists for me. In most cases, that’s true. There are very few places out in the world where I feel at ease. But more often than not, it’s not true of my home anymore. Since I’ve been paying attention to making my home cozy this year, I’m usually comfortable there, and that is the thing I love most about it. It’s a much-needed break from the tension of being out and about.
I want my home to be the place that feels most like a sanctuary to me. Of all the places in the world, my home should be the place that feels the safest. Again, this is not completely within my control. When I have angry neighbors whose fights I can hear clearly through the walls or my ceiling, my empathy is at peak attention, and my guard is up. But to the extent that I have the power to do so, I can keep my home clean and free of danger.
Even beyond matters of safety, I want my home to be an environment where I experience rest, especially as I get older. So many health problems are exacerbated by too little or poor quality sleep. I’m not a great sleeper to begin with, and it’s not getting any easier as I age. I don’t need any distractions or other barriers to a good night’s rest. Part of making my home cozy and soothing to my senses is getting rid of unnecessary stimuli.
And I don’t want all of this to take an hour to kick in. I don’t want to have to unwind or adjust to my surroundings when I get home. I want to feel relaxed as soon as I walk in the door.
First, taking your shoes off at the door is the norm in many cultures. I (and you) should absolutely respect the rules and customs of anyone who is gracious enough to host us. It’s not that difficult to plan ahead. If I know the homeowner allows shoes in the house, that’s fine. But if I know they don’t, or I don’t know one way or the other, I assume I’m going shoeless once I arrive and adapt my footwear/sock selection accordingly. This is why I own so many cute socks. So thank you, friends with this rule! I do love a cute sock, and this gives me an excuse to buy more of them.
This is not a rule I use in my own home, though. Please feel free to keep your shoes on.
I know. I get it. I understand that shoes are gross and thus track their grossness inside as I am tromping through the house. But also…so do…
My clothes
My hair
My skin
My bag(s)
Multiply these elements times how many people live in or visit your home on a regular basis.
Include pets in this count, especially the ones that occasionally go outside (although inside-only animals can do their fair share of spreading some dirt and other particles). This doesn’t necessarily apply to me, as I don’t currently have a pet. And I love my friends’ pets, but they do track in a fair amount of detritus. I used to think I was allergic to dogs, but my reactions change depending on the seasons. So I suspect my sensitivities are more about all the irritants that are hitching a ride on the dogs’ fur after their walk rather than the animals themselves, which is a relief but also solidifies my decision not to adopt an indoor/outdoor pet.
[Aside – No, I do not want an animal in my home. Do not send me pictures of cute, sad animals that need homes. I mean, send me all the animal pictures all the time. I love them. Just do not expect me to adopt them. Your Sarah McLachlan tactics will not work on me. You will be disappointed, and your disappointment will be 100% your own doing.]
Basically, anyone or anything that goes from outside to inside has the outside all over it and thus gets the outside on anything it touches once it comes inside. Therefore, I feel like simply removing my shoes at the door of my home would only address a small fraction of the outdoor-to-indoor filth pipeline.
The main thing from outside that bothers me is pollen. And it’s on everything. During the first few weeks of spring, I absolutely strip down and immediately shower when I get home to reduce how much of the stuff lingers in the air of my apartment. I do enjoy breathing, after all. But this is only a seasonal habit. I only do it when it is absolutely necessary.
I could be a person who does this all the time – a person who deposits outside clothes directly into the washer/hamper, lovingly empties and cleans my purse each night, and not only removes my shoes at the door but wipes them down, removing all the funk they have accumulated in my travels that day. I could, but I’m not gonna. While the idea of consistently having separate outdoor and indoor clothing is appealing to me, it’s not a habit to which I actually aspire at this point in my life. In fact, I think I said, “That’s exhausting. I’m exhausted just reading it,” out loud and then had to stare blankly at the wall for a minute when I came to that chapter in Marie Kondo’s book (which I absolutely loved otherwise – highly recommend).
Also, even if it was just my shoes, what is the process? Logistically speaking, what do I do with the shoes when I take them off at the door? Do I remove them and then pick the filthy things up with my bare hands and take them to the closet? Do I figure out some way to move my whole gigantic shoe storage to my tiny entryway so I can put them where they belong right away? Do I just leave them by the door (real talk – the most likely scenario), thus resulting in the inevitable and constant pile of shoes at the door? None of these things seems like a practical solution that I would want or actually implement, and regarding my primary goal of reducing clutter, they are all inferior to my current process, which is to wait to remove my shoes until I’m in the closet where they belong.
So, for now, in my house…I don’t care, generally speaking. I’m going to keep my shoes on at least as long as it takes for me to walk from the door to where my slippers are, and you should feel free to keep your shoes in my home, too.
I mean, if your shoes are extra dirty/muddy, take them off or ask for something to wipe them down at the door. Don’t track visible muck through my home. Don’t be that person.
But overall, I want you, my guest, to feel welcome and accepted just as you are, so you do what makes you most comfortable (re: shoes or no shoes and attire in general, that is – this is not a free-for-all behavioral statement.). Additionally, I believe the way people attire themselves is an art form and expression/extension of their personality, and while it may seem like a small thing, taking off one’s shoes can mess up the whole ensemble. Embracing these principles is part of the hospitality from my southern upbringing (i.e., one element of my culture that I actually like and try to embody) that I want to extend to my guests.
I’m also curious about other people’s take on the subject. Would removing my shoes at the door of my own home really make that big of a difference in how clean it is overall? If flooring is a factor, I have all hard floors, not carpet. So my floors are both easy to clean and are cleaned frequently(ish).
Feel free to drop your opinion and links to credible research in the comments.
We have our first Transfer Orientation today. My first experience with orientation as an advisor. I anticipate going home and not wanting to talk to anyone for about 30 hours after it’s over, but otherwise having a pretty good day.
A few reads I’ve enjoyed this week:
I adore this piece on getting older. I want to be able to say kinder things about my body, like “It is doing its best with the hand it was dealt, and that is far more than I ever before thought possible.“ Good goal.
About once a decade, I get tired of my wardrobe. Some staples stay, but I get an itch to donate everything else and start fresh. In the past, I’ve done this quickly, but my intentional slow-down with spending is giving me the opportunity to search for things I really love and also not jump into getting rid of things that maybe just need minor repairs to be wonderful again. I go to thrift stores expecting not to buy anything, instead of just buying everything that strikes my fancy because it’s such a good deal. And I’m looking for things that are better for the earth. I’m currently dating (not committed yet, just seeing how things work out) a few cute items at Pact, so I’m happy to see them on this list.
Speaking of things I’m dating…I want this. I love a simple swimsuit with a short.
I like a niche memoir, and Leigh Kramer loves fashion fiction/nonfiction the way I love foodie fiction/nonfiction. I’ll have to check out a few of these (I’m especially interested in the Iris Apfel one).
Unpopular opinion – Spring is, objectively speaking, the very worst season. At least in Texas. But I imagine any place with trees or floral plant life is just unbearable right now.
So what does that leave? The desert? Desert people – how are you right now? Can you breathe? I’ve forgotten how it feels to be able to do that. Is it wonderful? I bet it’s wonderful.
The pollen is really pollening. My gray car has taken on a perpetual yellow tint, despite vigilant rinsing. I’m constantly drugged, and as they are providing no actual symptom relief, I’ve concluded the allergy meds are merely keeping me alive. I have a constant wheeze. It’s a miracle I can open my eyes wide enough to read print at all.
That must be why the audiobooks I read in March outnumbered the print books I read. For the first time ever. Incredible.
It’s National Poetry Month, though, so I’m going to power through with puffy, watery eyes to enjoy all the lovely collections I’ve planned. Print is always my preference with poetry.
[Disclaimer – I am a Bookshop.org affiliate – I get a cut of the sales from most of the links below.]
The Long Goodbye by Raymond Chandler (I haven’t quite finished the previous ones in the series, so I’m going to have to read them OUT OF ORDER to get this one read by the time book club comes *melodramatically breaks out in hives*)
Game Changer by Rachel Reid (I just picked this up from the library yesterday, and it’s currently my top priority read – I’ve been waiting since February 16! I know I’ve pre-ordered the special editions that are coming out in October, but I am tempted to purchase regular copies so I can read them earlier.)
Heated Rivalry by Rachel Reid (Still waiting. But I’m #2 instead of #14, which is where I started on the waitlist, so…pretty impressive, Denton HR fans!)
It’s National Poetry Month, and I’m going to celebrate not only by reading lots of poetry but also by learning more about how to write it well from some of my favorite poets.
Financial Feminist by Tori Dunlap – April Mini Challenge: Knock, knock: who’s there? (answers the question/describes a person)
Libro.fm
Get a Life, Chloe Brown by Talia Hibbert (narrated by Adjoa Andoh) – Listen to an audiobook by a disabled author (Part of The Great Audio Reading Surge of March 2026. It’s so good! I’m excited to read the other two this month.)
Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson (narrated by Robert Sean Leonard) – Listen to a banned book (Another part of The Surge. I am glad I didn’t read this as a child. I was way too sensitive to have been able to handle this then. It was almost too much for Adult Me to try to listen to during lunch and while driving. There was ugly crying involved.)
Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil by V. E. Schwab – Listen to a Libro.fm staff pick (Also read in March. While I liked Schwab’s series – Shades of Magic and Villains, specifically – better, it was a solid read, and the audio was fantastic.)
Judge Stone by Viola Davis and James Patterson (narrated by Viola Davis) – Read an audiobook from your wish list (Just waiting on my libro.fm credit for the month to pop up!)
The coziest (and the best) way to ring in the new year? Snacks, wine, comfort of my own home.
I love the Montana Happy newsletter. It’s always full of cozy crafts, recipes, and tips. It’s a much-needed shelter in the storm of the world. In exploring cozy as a theme this year, I am working my way through this list of prompts.
Hygge prompt #1 – What advice would you give your younger self with your current knowledge if given a time machine? What changes would you make?
Not that my younger self would have listened…but here goes.
That interdisciplinary major you’re considering during grad school (the one that would give you a foot in the door to library science)? DO IT. You can still teach public speaking and work night desk and be an assignment coordinator. These will be the jobs that give you the best stories and where you will meet some of your favorite people. But it would also be nice to have some sweet librarian training in your back pocket when you’re ready to branch out.
Don’t stop dancing and running. It’s hard to get that momentum back after you lose it, and you will miss it when it’s gone.
Ditto re: playing piano and French horn.
Don’t sell your French horn. Maybe stick with a digital piano/full-sized keyboard instead of the upright grand, though. That was…a lot.
The pavement on Fry Street is dangerously uneven. Tread cautiously. Your left knee, in particular, will thank you. Also, maybe don’t drink the WHOLE beer tower. Just a thought.
In fact, go ahead and slow down on the drinking in general. One or two glasses of wine at a time is fine, and it is definitely less expensive. If you need to be buzzed to feel comfortable at a place, just leave the place. You could be home and reading.
We still love home and reading.
You don’t want to live in the downstairs apartment. Having upstairs neighbors is THE WORST.
Look closely for bug problems before you move in. No apartment is cute enough to be worth the hassle of getting rid of an infestation.
Those things that you keep seeing ads for that you think you’d really enjoy having? You won’t. Just keep scrolling. I guarantee there’s a cute cat video coming up, and it’s free.
The cancer diagnosis isn’t the end of the world. You survive, and your friends really come through for you. Go ahead and push for the reconstructive surgery while they have you on the table, though.
When the church you love dissolves, don’t rush into replacing it. Save yourself some religious trauma and take a real break. But keep that weird little liturgical one you visited in the back of your mind. You’re going to love them someday.
I know loneliness sucks. And it will suck for a long time, especially when it seems like everyone around you is pairing off, so buckle up. But don’t waste so much time wanting a partner. Your life is already rich with love, and you will absolutely adore living alone. Once you get there, you will realize that it would take a truly exceptional connection to merit giving that up. Hold out for it.
When you feel like you have to choose between loving others well and wanting to hold them to your own moral code (which, despite everything you’ve been taught, they are not – in any way – obligated to adhere to), choose love. Every time. Your moral code will change as you learn and grow, and you will regret the harm that you did before you knew better. But you will never regret loving extravagantly.
Love extravagantly.
Love yourself. To quote Tova Goodman’s six-word memoir, “Little me would’ve liked big me.”
I usually post resolutions on New Years Day, but I decided not to rush it. Yesterday was nice. I got to hang out with Sarah and friends, eat some delicious food, and read a little bit. It’s hard to believe that I go back to work in less than 48 hours. Before I do, though, you know I want to share my resolutions for the year with you.
Technically I have seven (large) goals, but all of them are divided into many small steps that help me get there.
Start Checking Off That 10-Year Bucket List
The bucket list I put together in 2025 ended up with way more than 50 things on it, and some of them are bigger goals that are going to take the whole 10 years to accomplish. Additionally, if I know me (and I do), I won’t stop dreaming up things I want to do, so the list is likely to grow over the next decade. Clearly there are more than five things I’m going to cross off that list this year.
I’m already going to address some of them in pursuit of my financial and cozy goals (see below), but I’ve identified 11 things off the list that I want to do this year. As I’m currently looking for a new job and/or an additional income stream, the order in which they happen will depend on how fast that comes to pass, as a new job would likely have a different busy season to work around, and some of them cost a little money. But right now, this is roughly the order I’m thinking of starting them:
Join the Plot Twist Book Bar dark academia book club
Enjoy a personal reading retreat in a hotel with room service
Renew my passport
Write a score or a song
Upload an original recording to Bandcamp
Finish a fiction manuscript
Take a small town road trip
Read 200 Books
This is…lofty. But I think it’s possible. What I like about this goal is that having it in mind will remind me to give myself regular downtime, which I have a hard time remembering (shocking, I know). I am also attempting quite a few reading challenges throughout the year, and gamifying anything almost always makes it more fun for me.
Establish a Regular Journaling Practice
One thing that keeps me grounded the best is journaling. It not only helps me decompress and slow down my brain before sleep but also improves my awareness of how well I’m taking care of myself in general.
One thing that I often put off and forget to do is journaling. I am hoping to establish a regular practice.
Daily is ideal, but any regularity is an improvement that I will consider a success. I’m using the guided journal that accompanies Shonda Rhimes’s Year of Yes. I may decide later in the year I don’t need the prompts but for now the questions provide a good framework.
Have 100 Cozy Moments
I couldn’t figure out how to phrase this one, because it could encompass a lot of things. “Cozy moments” sounds a little woo for me, but it will have to do.
Basically, I want to be intentional about pursuing my theme for the year.
This may look like actually noting when moments are cozy or actively seeking them out. It may look like rearranging spaces at home, work, or elsewhere to be more welcoming. It may look like clearing out some clutter to give my brain a rest. There are many different ways this could play out, and I bet I can catalogue at least 100 of them!
Set and meet 100 small financial goals
This sounds like a lot, but it’s fewer than I met last year, so it’s doable. My focus this year (other than increasing income) is on three main things:
Mapping out a solid plan for retirement
Having a solid purpose for each savings bucket
Building a solid knowledge base
The keyword is solid. That’s how I want to feel about my finances at the end of the year (and have the evidence to back the feeling up).
Write 50,000 Words
For real, this time. Something tells me that finishing a fiction manuscript would be an excellent way to make this happen.
Go on 25 Microadventures
A lot of the items on my 10-year bucket list surprised me. Apparently, I want to go places. Did not know that about myself. I’m not sure if I actually want to go places, or if I think I should want to go places.
Welp, we’re going to test it out this year with 25 small microadventures. I’m defining a microadventure as any outing that takes from an hour up to a day. It can be almost anything. It just has to include a place I’ve never been or something I’ve never done. Bonus points if it’s free.
I may ask for suggestions later, but I have a pretty good list going already. It might be telling that this is the resolution I’m least excited about, but maybe I will be pleasantly surprised. It doesn’t hurt to try (I hope).
And there you have it. Those are the plans. It looks like a lot, but it’s mostly a continuation of things I’m already working on. It just gives them a little structure.
From Wednesday, Season 2: “I don’t evolve; I cocoon.”
I feel this.
Cozy seems like a fluffy word to have as a theme for the year. But it’s essential for me, and that’s becoming more apparent the older I get.
People say you have to get out of your comfort zone to learn. And I see the merit in this reasoning.
One question, though – what’s a comfort zone? That sounds nice. Mythical. Soothing. I bet it’s just delightful.
Do neurotypical people have places and situations in which they actually feel at ease? What’s that like?!
When I think back to the last place I felt truly comfortable – no social anxiety, no worry, no counting down all the things in my head that I had to do before it was over or I could leave – I landed on the trip I took to Cape Cod with Hope and her friend Alison.
Easy mornings where I would drink coffee and write, read, or journal. Then we’d have brunch together and do something fun for the afternoon. Then we’d all meet up again for a long, decadent dinner – sometimes just us, sometimes with guests.
It’s the coziest week I’ve ever spent away from my own home. It left space for spontaneity in ways that I rarely experience. And it was absolute magic for my creative process.
I don’t form habits; I have rituals, and even for my favorite ones, I sometimes need some kind of reminder. For example, on Sunday, I woke up, got a few things accomplished, and then got ready for church. On the drive there, I noticed I was feeling super scattered and grumpy. And then it hit me – I had forgotten to have coffee. Yes, you read that right. Not a typo. I – the coffee snob/addict – simply did not remember to brew a cup. I knew my executive function was wonky lately but jeez. This is why I keep a to-do list posted of how to get ready in the morning. Because on days like that, when I am extra steeped in discomfort, I don’t always remember all the steps.
[Shout-out to coworkers who always remind me to take a break and go upstairs to get coffee at work. Y’all are the best.]
I don’t necessarily even follow ambitions, although I do have a lot of them. My most lasting successes all started in a space I felt free to think and experiment – where I felt relaxed enough to be my full creative self.
I say all of this to demonstrate that learning should follow the spirit of the “out of your comfort zone” rule rather than the literal directive. Essentially, learning requires doing something different. Neurotypical people live in a world that tends to work the way their brains do and in ways they are comfortable operating. In order for their brains to form new pathways (i.e., learn), they have to jolt themselves out of that (i.e., stepping out of that comfort). For many neurodivergent people, it’s the opposite. The world does not work the way our brains do. We are already – perpetually – out of our comfort zone. Pushing ourselves further out of it is more likely to result in burnout and shutdown rather than discovery. My learning process (and I suspect this is more often true than not for most ND folk) needs a soft space to land where my overactive brain can rest well enough to focus on the new thing I’m trying to do.
I need cozy.
And it starts at home.
Making my home cozy for myself inevitably means dampening the assault on my senses. My home right now? Chaos, which reflects my state of mind in this, the yearly Wild West Week that straddles the transition between the old and new year. The chaos in my home not only reflects but also contributes to my mental chaos, though, and I’d like to work on that this year. I can’t control most of what happens outside my home, and there are many elements of rental living that are likewise beyond my grasp. I can, however:
Declutter and adjust lighting and decor to make my space more visibly soothing
Cook amazing food and clean with non-smelly products so that my first reaction to walking in isn’t a shaking of the head and an exclaimed, “Oh! What is that smell!”
Marie-Kondo the textures of items in my home. Even if something is useful, if my first reaction to touching it is, “Nooooo, thank you,” I will not use (or wear) it very often, which means it’s not actually helpful to me.
Make playlists to mask/offset the 14,351 buzzing sounds and background noises that routinely plague apartment living. Green noise is my go-to for this purpose, but I’d like to mix it up a little this year. Maybe even compose something myself.
One thing I really like about cozy as a theme is that it has an element of preparedness to it. Yes, it’s nice to make physical and psychological spaces warm and comfortable for myself and others. That alone is valuable. But the practice of doing so also prepares the space for stressful situations. For example, making my home a cozy place was useful for times when I had to stay there longer than planned (ahem, pandemic and cancer diagnosis). Paying attention to and taking care of my body not only helps me feel more at home in it but also strengthens it for dealing with health issues and other physical challenges that arise. Working so hard on my financial stability this year really came in handy when it was suddenly time to qualify for a car loan in September. Effective therapy doesn’t just help me feel better; it helps me be better.
So this year, I am cultivating coziness in my life. And I am going to cozy up to the things that matter to me.
Cocoons may seem unimportant on the outside (and may just seem like a big blob of mindless goo on the inside). But these cozy little spaces are what help their inhabitants turn into exactly who they need to be to fly.
Whew! What a few weeks it’s been. My dad had a couple of small strokes, so my sister, brother-in-law, and I have been working at the farm, cleaning, taking care of mom, etc. He’s home and recovering well, but it’s still a lot. Work has been gracious in giving me the time off to take care of things, but next week is our biggest training week of the year, and I’m feeling the pressure!
What better way is there to relax in the little downtime I have than to read? I have a lot of books listed from previous months that I’m going to work on finishing, particularly from my reading challenges, and I’m adding a few new things for this month as well.
Book Clubs
James by Percival Everett (the audio is great – highly recommend) – also a Bad Bitch Book Club Challenge prompt – a 2024 award-winning novel [general fiction]
Love is in the air. Or something. Maybe it’s smog. Or anxiety.
On this arbitrary date that we celebrate love and consumerism, I hope you are surrounded by people who get you and know how amazing you are. Also, your hair looks nice, and I like your shirt.
Shout-out to Maggie, on this, her favorite day. It’s totally not made up. It’s a very real and special holiday, Magnanimous.
Here are some things I’ve read recently that I loved, and I hope you do, too.
I’m Cancer-Free, So Why Do I Feel So Depressed and Hopeless? by Maggie Hundshamer-Moshier via Bezzy BC – I’m feeling a lot of these things right now. The other day, I burst into tears at a mild inconvenience and turned to my friend and said “I think I’m depressed.” They smiled sweetly and said, “You…think?” Noted.
The Perils of Voracious Reading by Caroline Donahue – “The desire to read is as strong for me as the desire to eat.” I feel that. My favorite way of digesting what I read is keeping a commonplace book. In fact, since I read in more places than at home, I have one there and one that I carry around with me. They’re mostly full of quotes but also sometimes notes on how something made me feel or my gut reaction to a book/passage. The one I stash in my purse also often has lists, meeting notes, and doodles from meetings.
How To Read a Book by Monica Wood – I’m going to have to add Monica Wood to my favorite authors list. This is only the second one of hers that I’ve read, but both this one and The One-in-a-Million Boy were fantastic. If you like Fredrik Backman, or you enjoyed Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine, you will probably love the stories Monica Wood tells.
What Goes With What by Julia Turshen – I will sit and read a cookbook cover to cover like it’s a novel, but with most of them, I start skimming about halfway through. Not this one. Turshen’s recipes and instructions are interspersed with memories, essays, and interviews about the role food plays in her life, and I adored it all. This would be a great book to give to a new cook who is just learning how to experiment and think outside the recipe, but I (a somewhat well-seasoned cook) learned a lot (and *cough* would like it as a gift *cough*), too.
Finally, an oldie but goodie – The Optimism of Uncertainty by Howard Zinn via The Nation (2004). “To be hopeful in bad times is not just foolishly romantic. It is based on the fact that human history is a history not only of cruelty but also of compassion, sacrifice, courage, kindness. What we choose to emphasize in this complex history will determine our lives.”
Whew. What a year to explore wonder! I mean, I guess I am, in fact, frequently astonished (Am I really? Or is it all playing out exactly as expected?) and full of doubt, both of which were phenomena featured in the definition. But damn.
My focus last year was technically learning how to embrace quiet but realistically, it was also a lot of trying not to die. My community was instrumental in helping me achieve that goal. Of course, people are only able to help others insofar as they have the spoons/energy/resources to do so. Therefore, in addition to capturing some wonder along the way, a big part of my mindset this year leans more toward getting my shit together so that I can be in a position to be there for those who are having their try-not-to-die year(s) now. I mean, I have been a moderately-functioning adult for a long time, and I have most of the adulting basics down, but there are areas I could be stronger. I find myself veering toward pieces that talk about cultivating sanity and joy and community and love and stability amidst *gestures broadly* so here are some of my favorites this week.
Reckoning with This Vicious World from Ask Polly, aka Heather Havrilesky – “Every opportunity to dance, to seek pleasure, to love with an open heart, to create freely, to show yourself without shame, and to celebrate what you are makes you stronger and more helpful to this struggling world.”
Power: What It *Truly* Is – Tori Dunlap with Kasia Urbaniak – “If you’re focused on how you’re being perceived, your attention is inward and you lose the power to lead the conversation.”
This is Happening by Nadia Bolz-Weber – “…this is not the time to concede the faith to nationalists, and I do not want those of us who believe Jesus’ message was one of mercy, humility, hospitality and forgiveness to give into despair.”
How Do You Know: The Consequences of a Lack of Media Literacy and Where We Go From Here by Ashlie Swicker via Book Riot – “We all know that the internet twists thinking and that this leads to large swaths of people buying into misinformation…Still, I think we imagine that this is happening somewhere else, to other people…We don’t hold ourselves accountable for the same kind of open mind and fact-checking that we demand from people who think differently than us.”
On HillmanTok University, Black Educators Are Sharing Invaluable Info by Kaitlynne Rainne via Her Campus – Professors dropping lots of knowledge on TikTok. They’ve posted syllabi, resources, etc., on everything from basic adult skills like budgeting and personal wellness to courses on literature and entrepreneurship. Teachers are going to teach, regardless of the hurdles they face. Love to see it. I also love that it’s called Hillman.
I’ll leave you with this quote from Bernice King: “There’s a difference between being informed and being consumed.” I invite you to take that into your weekend and beyond.
