I have many favorite authors. My authors page on my working TBR rivals my series page as the longest. However, I don’t know that there’s even a single author about whom I can say I’ve read all their works. I mean, I wanna. I have the drive to do so. I will read something I love and immediately devour three or four other books that person has written. I will drop everything I’m doing to read the newest Fredrik Backman (or at least make sure it gets on one of my book clubs’ lists). And I am (slowly) working through Isabel Allende’s work in order of publication. But I do not yet have a completist author of my own, and I WANT ONE. I am looking forward to this series.
Ash Wednesday is NEXT WEEK. What in the world. Anyway, I have practiced Lent for many years and in several ways. I like the way this post breaks it down into four intentions to pursue.
And finally, I’m gonna make Joy the Baker’s one-pot French onion pasta tomorrow. I’ve got a fairly busy weekend, and this little dish is going to help me slow down a little and remind me that it is, in fact, my day off, regardless of what my activities may suggest.
My first full week in office in my advisor position! The first week had Monday as a holiday, and the second week was mostly working from home due to the winter storm that swept through this area. It’s been a long week, but it’s been good. I haven’t quite outfitted my office yet, so I’m going to do some more decorating next week.
I’m looking forward to going out with some friends tonight and I have a few events this weekend. Hopefully, I’ll also have some time to read, clean, and generally decompress as well.
Some links for the week:
This opinion from US District Judge Fred Biery on the release of Liam Arias and his father Adrian is a good read. “‘We the People’ are hearing echoes of that history,” is the type of statement that once inspired me to consider the law and eventually judgeship as a career path. As much as I would probably loathe being a judge most of the time, I would enjoy writing things like this.
How to make soup and also write a novel. I’m going to add this wisdom to my Fall Curriculum (spoiler – my goal will be to revamp my writing practice and finish a manuscript).
Troubles in Minneapolis persist, and friends of a friend have a good resource on the ground if you are looking for a place to donate. The Helping Hand Fund through Our Savior’s Lutheran Church supports their neighbors in need, and you can donate generally or designate your donation as “immigrant support” if you want to specify where you’d like it to go.
I hope you get time and space to decompress this weekend!
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.”
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.
Before this year, I was terrified to talk about money.
Don’t get me wrong. I was responsible. I paid my bills. I had an average credit score. And to be clear, it was only merely average because I had a lot of credit card debt and a high credit utilization ratio – i.e., the amount of credit you have vs. use (if you use a lot/max out your cards, your utilization is high). And that happens to be one of the top factors that determine credit score. All my other factors were good to exceptional, even before this year.
But I still hated talking about it. And I still felt guilty about it.
Part of that is that my family is so good at managing money, and I felt bad that I wasn’t better at it.
A bigger part of it, though, was that I’ve often taken financial literacy courses and read financial literacy books, and most of them come overcast with a large dose of shame that I don’t already know or haven’t been able to do what they’re teaching me. The prevailing message from experts is that if you are struggling, it’s because you suck at money and it’s all your fault. Because the prevailing agenda of most people who have excelled under capitalism is to uphold capitalism as the ideal at all costs. And they can’t do that if they actually admit the system doesn’t work as well as it should for everyone.
But every system has weaknesses. Every. System. *cough*especiallyAmericancapitalism*cough*
Yet that is the system where I live. So this year, I decided to face my fear. I resolved to set and meet 50 small financial goals to point me in a better direction. I met that goal by the end of May and just kept going. By committing to small, incremental changes, I have:
Raised my credit score by 40+ points
Built an emergency fund
Financed a car without a cosigner
Had some important financial discussions with my dad that I had been avoiding
Stopped feeling guilty about spending according to my values. In fact, I made value spending a whole budget category
Shameless plug time – I did this with the support of Tori Dunlap’s 100K Club. This community was the real MVP when it came to getting past my financial shame and trauma so I could even think about goals. The community is not currently open, but you can get on her email list and get a lot of the same information from the resources on her website and from her book Financial Feminist (which is actually a workbook, so get your own copy or make sure you have a journal handy to write in if you borrow it from the library).
Another resource I like is Moving Beyond Broke by Dasha Kennedy (aka @thebrokeblackgirl). If you are new to budgeting or new to saving or nervous about saving or need regular encouragement, get this book and follow her account.
Just as important as the practical goals I met, here are some things I learned this year that I want to pass on:
I’m actually really great at managing money. I was good at it before this year, and I’m even better at it now. I’ve had to be, because I have never in my adult life made what was considered a livable wage for my area. And yet, I have lived. I have always had food to eat and a home to live in and managed to pay all my bills (even if sometimes the way I had to do it was credit and then find another little temp odd job to pay it off). Turns out, I can squeeze blood from a turnip.
As proud as I am of what I have accomplished, I did not do it alone. I have resources I can reach out to when unexpected things happen, and I have a solid community support system. This is essential. This is non-negotiable. Get yourself in community.
So does anyone who is financially successful. If they try to tell you their success is 100% self-made, they are either incredibly lacking in self-awareness or they are flat out lying to you.
If you are struggling financially and making less than $50,000 a year in most places (more in places with a high cost of living), I guarantee your struggles are not your fault. You are working your ass off in a system that was not designed for even your survival, much less your success – a system that rewards greed and treachery instead of the actual hard work it claims to reward. Let go of your shame, and get mad instead.
You’re probably already mad about it. Focus that mad where it’s deserved – toward the manipulative system and the greedy assholes who blindly uphold it without question – and fight back. This anger has become excellent motivation for me. Every time I want to slack in my goals or spend money on some nonsense that I don’t really want or that doesn’t match my values, I have a little voice in my head that says, “That’s how the oppressors win.” And then I make a better choice. Works like a charm.
Greed is rampant in our society, but if you’re actually worried about being too greedy, you’re probably not. In fact, you’re probably settling for way less than your work is worth. And by you, I do mean I. I am settling for less than my work is worth, and the financial goals I’m currently working on are to help me remedy that.
When I am struggling, it is easy to fall into the trap of trying to find ways to monetize the things I do that bring me joy. It is essential for my mental health and that of my community not to do this. Most things need to remain as gifts to yourself and the world around you. Cultivate generosity and protect it.
Well, that’s more than I planned to share, but hey – I’m clearly less scared of talking about money now. So that’s a win!
I’m feeling very festive-song-in-minor-key today. It’s been a good week, but a busy one, and the busy isn’t really over until Sunday at noon-ish. My body is giving me small warning signs, so I figure I have about 5 days before it absolutely crashes unless I get some slow-down soon. Noted. My planner on Sunday afternoon reads “NOTHING NOT A DAMN THING.” So that’s where we’re at.
If someone rich wants advice on what to do with their money, Bryan Fuller and the cast of Pushing Daisies are ready to give us more antics at the Pie Hole! I NEED SEASON THREE!
Busy seasons have me sitting at the keyboard more often than usual. I just play through my theory books or some Bach variations – predictable, methodic, simple. Instrumental and ambient music are great stress relievers, which this piece explores beautifully.
Speaking of ambient music, I’m playing in the Joan of Bark Fest tomorrow with Wenepa. It will not be the same without Des, but I know we’ll still make some beautiful sounds together. Come see us if you’re local!
The James Garfield Miracle is one of my favorite things that happens every year, and I want y’all to know about it.
And an extra bonus at the end of this busy, busy week. Because The Great Unfuckening is nigh, and I feel like mine is going to be a doozy. My brain is so tired, and my stockpile of fucks-to-give is quickly dwindling.
Next week’s schedule is much calmer. It’s still busy and social – just not every day. There are real pockets of rest on the horizon, and I am excited about that.
One holiday week (almost) down, four to go. I can do this.
I love this perspective in these trying times. Times have been trying before, and they will be trying again. Community is how we make it through. And you know I love a book list. This piece has it all.
These are so freaking cute. If I get myself together, they may make an appearance at a holiday party. Or I may take fudge. Fudge is good (and also easy). Or this (but why is it called Jezebel sauce? Good and misunderstood? Bad, but also an understandable and totally acceptable course of action, given the full view of the circumstances? Has it been sacrificed to idols? Did someone die a gruesome death from eating it? I’m so curious.).
I’m looking at the reading challenges I want to attempt in the new year, and it’s really gonna be something. Buckle up – my reading life is fully reflecting my internal chaos, and there is no stopping it at this point. This is an interesting one that I’m considering – the Anti Brain Rot Reading Challenge. I really love the way this challenge is organized. I ABSOLUTELY ADORE the idea of having a personal curriculum for each season where I double down on a particular topic. And there is a Discord community. This would be an especially good challenge for people who either want to establish a daily reading practice or intentionally read outside their personal experience zone, and who would like social support in doing so. You know what? I say I’m “considering” it, but I think we all know I’m in. I’m so in.
I love reading books that friends recommend. When I finish, it’s like an automatic mini-book club. This interview with Kate Mosesso on What Should I Read Next is lovely and charming. Bonus that I particularly like about this podcast – transcript and a book list.
A post no one ever wants to write, but Nadia Bolz-Weber does it beautifully. I’m so glad she’s OK.
I was driving back from the parents’ farm on Friday when I meant to post my last Friday Five of November. I was holding off to see if I found a fifth, but I didn’t want these four little snippets of joy to slip through my fingers. I hope you enjoy them!
Advent is upon us so I wanted to share (re-share? I think I’ve shared it before) Tsh Oxenreider’s succinct piece on the why and how of the season.
I finally watched Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris this week, and it is just as lovely and just as charming as the book (even with the H added to ‘Arris). I thought there was no way I would love it as much as the book, but I did. Leslie Manville was perfectly cast and an absolute delight. Now I want to watch the Angela Lansbury version from the 90s.
I supervise a staff of university students, and a frequent question I get when they are about to graduate and go out into the big, bad world is, “How do I make friends as an adult?” Outside of the structure of classes and group projects and student organizations and residence halls, all of which tend to force socialization to some extent (for better or worse), the prospect of being on their own is often daunting, especially for introverts. My answer? Book clubs. Yes, I meet people at church, but some people don’t practice a religion. Yes, I have an art community (with very wide parameters regarding what constitutes art), but that’s not necessarily a widespread phenomenon. Book clubs are easy and more universal. Even if you don’t read a lot, you can usually find a book club that discusses genre (like the ones hosted by our public library). If you can’t find a local club that meets your needs, you can always join one online. You can also start your own and post fliers at the local library (where you can probably also meet for free, if you don’t want to invite people to your house). Options abound, and book people are interesting people who make great friends.
There’s no way the whole list would fit in one picture. This is one of several stacks. I’m not sad about it.
This November feels weird. There are a lot of changes afoot in my life – some potential, some already in motion. So that’s a big part of it. But it feels like the year should be over already. And also that it just started. I feel like I’m in a weird loop. Time is a construct.
I’m also in the unique position of actually having already completed most of my resolutions for the year. My brain is ready to move on, but there are still two months to go and other resolutions to, well, resolve.
To that end, the November TBR is mostly a continuation of the October theme – a list of books to finish out my reading challenges. I recognize that it’s a bit unhinged in length. However, I have finished a few on the list already (on account-a already having met with two book clubs and also some of these were started as part of the TBR for previous months and I’m just now finishing them up). And my car book is not on this list at all because I’ve been waiting patiently for the audio of Cackle by Rachel Harrison to become available at the library and it finally did. Plus I’m starting off the month re-reading Legends and Lattes and Bookshops and Bonedustbecause I’m going to a book signing and getting Travis Baldree’s third book in the series – Brigands and Breadknives – this month!
I’m a bit all over the place. And I kinda love it. If my reading life isn’t bursting at the seams, am I even really alive?
The good news is that, if I manage to even read half of this list before the end of the year, I will still achieve my overall reading goal of 180 books (and then some). Yippee!
I hope you get to read as many books as you want this month.
Happy Halloween! This year’s costumes are Winnie the Pooh (featured at book club since I was not feeling well for the actual Halloween party I typically go to), and a version of the Mad Hatter for work today. I hope you are having a fun day!
Some things I enjoyed reading this week (and a bit of last week):
Abbott: Rainbows gotta go… Oak Lawn Methodist Church: …on our steps. “It’s important because silence is not neutral — silence in the face of harm always sides with the oppressor. At Oak Lawn UMC, we believe love belongs in public. Painting our steps in the colors of the rainbow is a visible witness to the gospel we preach: that every person is created in the image of God and worthy of safety, dignity, and belonging,” Love this.
M. Suzanne Terry 