Sporadic Thoughts
Some disconnected musings that have flowed through my pen lately
Hey Friends,
It’s been a while. I’ve started and stopped a number of letters to you, none of which have felt quite right. Lately when I think about writing on belonging to ourselves, I feel flat. It’s not that I don’t believe in the idea, I do. I’ve just lost the drive to write about it. Things I write are missing the spark I feel when I write poetry and prose.
I’ve also been elsewhere. Life has caught me up in the wash cycle and I can’t seem to step out of the tumbler. Or maybe I haven’t quite learned yet how to sit with it all. How to be in the discomfort.
I wanted to say hello, though, and remind you that I'm still here. I'm grateful that you are still here with me. I thought I'd share some sporadic thoughts that have made it through my pen recently.
New Here?
There are 200 of you now and I’m surprised by how more of you keep steadily showing up even though I haven’t been writing.
Welcome, thank you for being here. I’m grateful to have the space in your inbox. If you came to me via a recommendation from someone else, I encourage you to take a look around to get to know me. I'll include links to my top posts after this. No hard feelings if you find this isn’t the place for you and you decide to unsubscribe. I have to be honest, I think the default auto-subscribe to recommended newsletters when you subscribe on Substack feels a little icky to me. Myself, I always say no thanks.
My Top posts:
Wind
The wind picked up recently, flinging cones, needles, and vulnerable branches to the ground. As I walk, I inhale deeply, filling my nose with the scent of fir needle. This is one thing I love about the aftermath of windstorms.
Sun
The sun is out today. I notice so many more people than usual when I am out walking my dog. I laugh at the predictability of Seattleites, soaking up the sun. It's a limited resource in fall and winter. Meanwhile, I grumble at the necessity of navigating around more dogs. Me, I'm on my same ol' schedule - twice a day at least. Maybe I take a longer route on a sunny day or stop a moment to feel the sun on my skin.
Aging
I wonder how to accept this aging body. The ways it needs more care and no longer runs like a well-oiled machine. I don't know how to make the most of what it's still capable of when I'm anxious about everything that's not quite right.
Anxiety
I finally admitted to myself that maybe it is going to take more than talk therapy, self-regulation, and accommodations to live with anxiety. I started meds. It's ironic that, in hopes of turning down the anxiety, I have to do something that makes me very anxious - take a new drug. A drug that cannot just be stopped, but must be tapered off.
***
I went to a party hosted by a friend of mine recently. I was anxious the whole drive there. My heart erupted with palpitations that I attempted to settle with deep breaths and slow caresses of my thigh. I kept thinking of turning around. I worried whether I should be driving. I wondered if I'd end up on the side of the road, having a panic attack, and calling my husband to come get me.
I arrived at my friend's house and immediately told her that I almost didn't come. Good friend that she is, she met me in my anxiety, offering support. In time and with some hot chamomile and lavender tea, I settled and had a nice time. I can do hard things and I hate it.
***
Anxiety makes me feel unsafe in my body. It tells me to flee, only I can't flee from myself. It bangs at the walls within me posted no vulnerability beyond this point. No mess is allowed out beyond those walls. Only strong, capable, independent humans allowed. Anxiety says f you and your bootstraps, humans are vulnerable. We need each other. Let me see your mess. But if feels like the scariest thing in the world to take down those walls. I'm getting braver with people I trust. It's hard to see through the self-judgement telling me I need to get beyond this, that it's imperative to get to some future me that feels stronger, more capable, and independent.
The Messy Middle
When I started this newsletter, I called it The Messy Middle. It feels like I’m there again. What was is no longer, but what's next isn't clear yet. I see many women my age writing about this feeling.
For so long I've wanted to write about self-worth and belonging to ourselves. It's what drove my poetry when I first started sharing my writing. It's what drove my posts on Instagram. It's most of what I've written here. Now that it no longer feels right, what's next? I'm not sure. Will you stick around to find out? Will I?
I'm no longer mothering small children. I'm no longer homeschooling. I don’t have a job, so what is my purpose? (It feels fitting that I recently discovered my LLC was inactivated due to a long period of no activity). My new chiropractor today told me how supportive it is for teenagers to have an adult at home and that helped me feel better. I do love being here when they come back home and available for homework help if they need it.
Books
I've been reading a ton. Mostly fiction. Perhaps I'm in a phase of consumption vs production. I'm reading books differently now that I've allowed myself to write fiction. I'm noticing the story arc, the writing I love, the writing I don't. Here are some of the books that really stood out to me this year:
The Very Secret Society of Irregular Witches
The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo
Boyfriend Material (I laughed so much. Also CW: sex)
Red, White & Royal Blue (CW: sex)
That's it, friends. My sporadic thoughts for you. I hope this letter finds you well and if not, you are not alone. Either way I am sending hugs. May we all find little sprinkles of hope throughout our days.
I’d love to hear from you
If you've read any books that stand out to you this year, I'd love to hear about them.
Also, please share any favorite gluten free vegetarian recipes you love. I'm burnt out on meal planning.
It’s good to see your writing again! Some of my favorites this year were The Postcard, A Little Life, Annie Bot, and Killers of the Flower Moon.