Our Lives are in Our Hands
How I am Preparing for the Next Four Years (And the Four After That)
I toiled all week with the prospect of our deteriorating nation with one egregious appointment after the next. I am not quiet about the fact that I believe we are all political- either in our voices or with our silence. I also acknowledge my own deep knowing that regardless of who is the figurehead of our country- we all belong to each other. That a neighbor can put bread in another neighbor’s mouth faster than any policy could. That communities can rally to provide shelter and clothing to families in need better than any government can. That we can wake up every morning and greet the runner on the trail with the same awe at the rising sun as we did the day before and the day before that. We get to choose to care for one another. This choice never changes.
Andrea Gibson, poet, reminded us this week that our lives have always been in our hands in her post-election letter to a friend. If you haven’t read it, you should. (If anyone is down for a “What’s My Job?” party, let me know.)
I do feel a deep responsibility to be grateful for this life I’ve been given to live, and the call for my active participation in finding creative and compassionate ways forward.
Here are the small steps I am taking to do just that.
What I’m Reading:
FICTION
After a dry spell of reading, I have returned with gusto. (Very much limiting my digital consumption has aided this progress, I will confess.) Reading is expansive, comforting, educational, and regulating. All the things we need moving forward, no?
The ones that have captivated my attention are, surprising to no one, of the magic realism genre. Where better to turn when you need buckets of creativity and compassion to face the world?
Matt Haig’s, “The Life Impossible” has not captured me like I hoped it would, and still- I can’t put it down. The 72-year-old female protagonist on a brand new journey of discovery is heartening in and of itself- leave it to Matt to center a character whom society has deemed useless and inconsequential and turn us all on our heads. Do read it- and better than that, decide to live out the message it gives: you can change your mind at anytime- things that you once deemed impossible can still happen.
I have Kelly Barnhill’s “The Ogress and the Orphans” on my nightstand and it’s so distracting, I’ve had to work on another floor for fear I’d abandon work entirely to crack it open. Barnhill’s “The Girl Who Drank the Moon” has been my default gift to every woman I love- it’s necessary reading. Her adult novel, “When Women Were Dragons” was also spectacular.
TJ Klune’s sequel to “The House in the Cerulean Sea” titled, “Somewhere Beyond the Sea” is next on my list. Any author who can make the AntiChrist a sympathetic character has earned a lifetime of my attention.
It’s November, which means I also intentionally choose indigenous/tribal authors to fill my cue. I re-read Braiding Sweetgrass every November, and am currently listening to Joy Harjo’s heartbreakingly beautiful, “Crazy Brave” on Audible.
Poetry
It’s not a secret that I think poetry can save a soul. It has saved mine a hundred times over. I’ve decided that my 2025 new year’s resolution is to memorize one favorite poem a month- I want to be able to recall and speak aloud the words that have gotten me through. I’ll share my list with you next week in case you may be moved to join. You’ll see some Mary Oliver, Maggie Smith, Rilke, Andrea Gibson, Wendall Berry, John MacDonald, Padraig O’Tuama among others. With all that we consume, wouldn’t it be something if it could be something beautiful that we could share?
Movement
Those who have known me for 30 years or 3 know that physical exercise is NOT my bag. But I have committed to myself times on the trail, times in the sunshine, slots on the rowing machine (Thanks, Lessons in Chemistry- see how fiction inspires real life?) NOT in an effort to change my body, but to care for it. It feels important at this stage of my life that I make choices that will impact my ability to move the way I want to later on in life. It has been a few months of centering this priority and I will also, reluctantly, say that it has a profound effect on my mental health. ( So does chocolate cake, for the record.)
Secret Garden
Our yard is in the direct migration path of hundreds of deer, making a vegetable garden an impossibility. We are also 3/4 shaded, most of the day. But there is something in me rising in rebellion against this life impossible and there is a need to grow. I am not sure if it will work, but I may attempt to answer this call for creativity and bare feet in the soil.
Food
I have been putting bone broth in mason jars, baking bread, sweeping out snacks in bags and replacing them with what we make at home. There is zero judgement or sense of moral superiority- I think I am simply trying to weed out all of the “noise” in every area that may slow me down, or get in the way of true rest. Nourishing has always been one of my favorite words (right up there with whimsy and the Scottish term for lounging in complete rest, hurkle-durkle) and I continue to ask myself how I can nourish myself- this is the way for me. The cookbooks I have had for years that I return to over and over again for meals at home are:
*Jerusalem and Simple by Ottolenghi (And Sami Tamimi)
*Around my French Table, by Dorie Greenspan
*The Weekday Vegetarians, by Jenny Rosenstrach
*Tender, by Nigel Slater
*Super Natural Simple, by Heidi Swanson
*The Barbuto Cookbook, Jonathan Waxman
Digital Citizenship
As a writer, social media is an important platform. As a marketer, it is part of my actual job. But I am restructuring how I interact with it these days-making sure I am getting news from credible sources first, reading long-form pieces to rebuild stamina lost by scrolling captions. I will engage with it much differently in the next year and that very statement made me panicky last year- BUTTTT- How will I ever become an author if I don’t market myself????- but this year, it gives me nothing but peace. I have also slowly but surely stepped away from my phone and it’s urgency, responding to texts days later, returning phone calls when I actually have time for conversation. This cannot be done all the time- but the preservation of my brain and body is top priority, and if that is true, nothing is more urgent than that.
It shouldn’t be shocking that when the shit hits the fan, our inner beings cry out for connection, nourishment, creativity, safety, and home. May we all learn how to offer them to ourselves, and to others in the next four years.
And in all the years that come after.
I’ll be sitting in your first paragraph all of January and then all of February after my country’s election and I’ll return to it as often as I need - thank you!