I spent some time listening to Ethan this evening. When I first started writing on a blog, Ethan was only months old. He's almost 9 now. As he talked, I sat and studied his little face. Suddenly I was transported. When he eventually got up to get in the bath, I immediately wrote these reflections. This is unedited and not overthought, which makes for a nice change, amiright?
After several profound disappointments, I've been throwing myself into the Small Things: painting with Oliver, noticing the tiniest parts of nature, plating my food attractively. (Thanks in part to a book I read a long time ago, French Women Don't Get Fat, which taught me that since I can't help being American slob, I should at least approach meals like sacred moments rather than the slop trough.) These and more nuggets of wisdom in today's post!
If you're not sure whether you suffer from control delusions, start a garden. Farm animals? They're right out. Attempting to get involved with the life cycle whether plant or animal will quickly teach you a key truth: you are virtually powerless. Your hand in the process is merely tinkering at best, or interference at worst.
But thanks to my garden and my animals, I've learned how to live with failure—even the life-and-death kind.
Carrying a pregnancy and giving birth is incredible, a personally rare experience that intimately connects you to the mysterious cycle of life. If you can and want to, I say give it a try. But it's not what makes a family. Everything afterward is.
Okay so most of us have few actual frontiers to face anymore. The West has been won—and is now the No. 1 worldwide manufacturer of superhero franchise movies. Elon Musk is handling the space stuff for us.
Now, our arena is Facebook. Social media could be the new agora, the place where minds can meet to discuss and solve world problems. At the moment, it's mostly cat videos. With a heavy dose of outrage. Instead of being deep people, as John Pavlovitz recently wrote, we're combustible people.
I'd like to make the case for resilience over outrage. Read on to find out how...
I enjoy traveling, but I don't love vacation posts. So I decided to use the "Travel, in brief" style to share the places I've been and give you a flavor of them without humble bragging about my awesome vacay. Sound good?
A little over a week ago, I turned 33. Half my lifetime ago I would've been about 17, and the thought of 33 would've had me breathing into a paper bag. Kind of how I feel about 50 now. One sec... Okay, now that the panic has slightly subsided, back to the post...
There’s something about the 30s that takes life to a new level. Your 20s are when you’re trying to be a grown up and mostly feel like an imposter about it. But in your 30s, you’re old enough to know more about who you are, and then realize you’re kind of sick of yourself. If you feel this way, congratulations! You’re probably not delusional!
So it's a turning point kind of age. From here you can either embrace day drinking and the huge car payment for the ridiculous convertible, or you can revel in your newfound freedom of thought and spirit. I'm going with the latter.
Here are some of my personal realizations and responses: