February 18, 2021

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I was reading about the Vikings while the snow piled up around us this week. The dramatic weather made it easy to imagine the kind of landscape that would produce such a stout and clever (albeit, brutal) people. It fascinates me to think how nature, place, and time shape cultures. I think that’s why my interest is often drawn toward dystopian literature. Not for the scares, but for the exploration of what happens when you disrupt assumptions about how the world works, when people’s skills no longer match the time they live in, when nature changes its course. I prefer the stories where we rise to the occasion and prevail humanely over the ones where the world goes feral. I hope we’re writing one of those right now.

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We were really fortunate to keep our power during our snowstorms this time though many people didn’t (and still don’t have power). And I’m thinking constantly about those of you in Texas and Oklahoma and other parts of the south. The Vikings might have built a society around surviving harsh winters off-grid, but plenty of the rest of us haven’t. I’m keeping a candle lit for those who are cold, hungry, thirsty, lonely, sick, or homeless right now. And one for the hard-working crews who are working to get power back and rescue those who are in need (including the turtles.) <3

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This week:

~ My writing streaks have been going so well (67 days and counting!) that I decided to do a yoga challenge. At least 10 minutes of yoga every day for 365 days. (I was inspired by this video.) I’ve done extended challenges in the past and I know that something happens mentally when you do yoga daily. I’m 13 days in and already feeling the shift.

~ Installed Freedom on my phone (I already use it on my laptop for writing sessions) which has been the happiest event this week. My phone works like a phone for most of the day, not a computer. I love it.

~ From Austin Kleon’s Steal Like an Artist, a quote from Andre Gide:

“Everything that needs to be said has already been said. But since no one was listening, everything must be said again.”

(See? We do need your voice!!)

~This mesmerizing Luca Guadagnino video for Sufjan Stevens.

Wherever you are I hope you are warm and healthy.

A blessing as I go, from the precious John O’Donohue:

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.

And so may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak
to mind your life.

February 11, 2021

Winter tea:  Hibiscus, Elderberry, rosehip, Ginger

Winter tea: Hibiscus, Elderberry, rosehip, Ginger

The temperature’s dropping here as we wait for our annual snow day. We’re supposed to get a couple of inches so our whole area is making plans to pretend we can’t drive anywhere and are stuck at home. I’m super excited. The library even cooperated by providing me with the next book in my mystery series in case I’m forced to sit by the fire and read all day. Yay winter!

The last few days I’ve been thinking about this Chinese proverb: (HT: Lesley )

“Tension is who you think you should be. Relaxation is who you are.”

As soon as I read that, I remembered an older woman I spent time with when I was in my twenties who took a look at my handwriting and my charm-school posture and told me I had some issues with trying to be perfect. Well, yeah. The whole first half of my life could be defined by the word: tension. (I could easily have written that article.)

The good news is that I couldn’t maintain impossible-to-maintain-standards. Eventually I just got tired and started figuring out that while I was a pretty capable person, I was not a very happy or fun one. That was in my 30’s. I have a lot of relaxing to make up for, you guys. I’m going to enjoy Part II so much.

(Btw, I just looked it up and they are still selling that book. Insert horror emoji.)

Things I want to remember from this week:

My inner smart girl has been squealing over all this:

Rep. Stacey Plaskett

Rep. Stacey Plaskett

~Please, please let me live long enough to need a cape-dress like Stacey Plaskett. What a QUEEN. During yesterday’s trial she was poised, articulate, confident, and in command. So impressive.

~ Speaking of queens, I finally finished The Queen’s Gambit. I have no interest in chess, but I’m obsessed as always with a pre-smartphone era. In their downtime, peopled were reading books and playing chess. Alone, if they had to. I can’t get enough of it. Also the clothes.

~ This has me longing to see a murmuration. Murmurations work because starlings coordinate by “rapid transmission of local behavioral response to neighbors.” Each bird is not keeping track of the whole group, just the seven closest neighbors to herself. Locality, intimacy, neighborly awareness. Huh. More here.

~ I finished this beautiful book a couple weeks ago, but I keep picking it back up to reread passages. It’s the loveliest writing and the most powerful exploration of parental grief and love I’ve read.

“She, like all mothers, constantly casts out her thoughts, like fishing lines, towards her children, reminding herself of where they are, what they are doing, how they fare. From habit, while she sits there near the fireplace, some part of her mind is tabulating them and their whereabouts: Judith, upstairs. Susanna, next door. And Hamnet? Her unconscious mind casts, again and again, puzzled by the lack of bite, by the answer she keeps giving it…”

~ Lastly, some folk music and poetry for a snowy day : A MidWinter Miscellany

Wishing you all snowflakes and good books and warm hearts and homes.

tonia

February 4, 2021

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The birds were singing when I went out this morning and the bulbs I rushed into the ground in November are poking their heads up, but we always get a false spring in February and I’m refusing to be drawn in.  I know Mother Nature has 8 more weeks of drizzle and grey skies for us here.  I don’t mind.  I’m pretty fond of winter.

 I’m up to my ears right now in 7th grade algebra.  Square roots and the distributive property, sigh.  I’ve got a couple more weeks to take my math placement exam and as I’m hoping to do the least amount of math possible over this degree I have to study hard now.  I’m just calling this humiliation month.  I’m thinking that maybe some really nice pencils and a good pencil sharpener would help me enjoy this better.  (Check yes if you agree that good writing supplies always improve a situation.) I ordered a new fountain pen and the yummiest, smoothest ink a while back and that has been making me happy pretty much every day, so it follows that new pencils will make math easier, right?  I’m all about textural pleasures.

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A few things I want to remember this week:

~ I came across this advice from Jerry Seinfeld in a newsletter I follow this morning.

 

LEARN HOW TO ENCOURAGE YOURSELF

 

Oof, I needed that.  I’m still way too dependent on the approval of others (or flustered by their disapproval).  Insecurity and shut-down women run in my family like water through a hose, but hell if I’m going to join them.  This is the year of doing hard things, of finding the guts to speak and live on my own. (Eleanor approves.)

~ Speaking of going solo, did you see this post on the realities of Instagram engagement?  I hope no one is actually buying into this. In case you are wondering, it’s been a year and a half since I left social media and I have no regrets.  I still check in occasionally on a few people whose content enrich me and I’m grateful for people creating beautiful posts, but I do have a secret hope that we’ll move on some day and the corporations can figure out how to make money by doing their own damn work. 

~ appleturnover’s channel is a gift.  Such beautiful little films about a small-scale regenerative homestead. 

~ Adrienne Maree Brown on the founding wound.  Woah. (Worth reading the whole thing if you have time.)

things are not getting worse
they are getting uncovered
we must hold each other tight
and continue to pull back the veil
see: we, the body, we are the wounded place

 ~ And this, from last month, but still making me cry.  I’m so thankful for the people in my life who have allowed me to change and still love me as myself.  A couple of friends in particular - you know who you are! But mostly my husband, for whom I feel such deep, deep gratitude. 

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Until next time.

Peace keep you.

patron of the new year

Hello friends,

I was working on a post for this week, but then Wednesday happened and now I just keep staring at this screen wondering what I’m supposed to say. Currently, I feel angry. And more angry. And impatient with people who are shocked and bewildered because what did you think we’ve been saying for the last five years?! (And that makes me feel humbled and small all over again because of all the Black, Brown,Indigenous, LGBTQ and other marginalized voices who have been telling us this for much, much longer. I’m sorry and thank you for your endurance.)

National traumas leave marks. Emotions take up space and time. That’s where I am.

~~

The only escape I’ve managed from the news cycle the past few days is working on my first novel, The Spaces Between. Because it was under an agent’s contract for so long, I haven’t actually spent much time looking at it critically for a few years. Reading it now is like visiting a younger self. There’s the story on the page, which is entirely fictional, and there’s my memories of where it was written and how it felt. But there is also the memory of my internal struggles hovering like shadows around the words. I can trace my maturing through the lines. Maturing as a writer, of course, but also as a woman. I’m no longer writing for the critical voices in my head. So much of the work I did before was an ongoing argument between those voices and the self that was trying to break free. It makes me grateful that this book was never published, because when I wrote it I didn’t understand what it was to write out of truth. I didn’t realize it of course, but I was writing and living from a narrative I internalized but didn’t believe. Now I am writing as my true self; I have a strong sense when I am going against my own nature and purpose and I recognize the joy that comes when I’ve been the most honest. It’s a good place to be.

~ I’m forever on the lookout for symbols or imagery that will help me live into the stage of growth I’m in and last week I stumbled across Eleanor Roosevelt. As soon as I saw her picture I felt that she was going to be my patron (or guardian spirit as Austin Kleon would call her) for this part of the year.

Here she is gracing my journal with her bright common sense and strength.

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“Do one thing every day that scares you.”

“Do what you feel in your heart to be right - for you’ll be criticized anyway.”

“No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.”

“Be confident, not certain.”

Eleanor makes me want to stand up straighter and get to work. So despite the rocky start to the year and the current state of my emotions, I have a lot of plans for 2021, including some good changes to my day-to-day life (which I’ll share more about later.) Next week, unless some other catastrophic thing happens, I want to share the first chapter of The Spaces Between with newsletter subscribers, so watch for that! <3

In the meantime, take good care of yourself. Be real. Be passionate and angry when you need to, but grab a bag of White Cheddar Hippeas and some Netflix when you need that too, k? Also naps.

Thanks for listening.

peace, friends.

tonia


Soundtrack for this post: Vaughan Williams, The Lark Ascending from The Lark Ascending Collection

On repeat for comfort and inspiration: Paterson (Jim Jarmusch,2016)

best of the books, 2020

Happy, happy new year (AT LAST) my friends! Since I’m not getting any newsletters out right now, here’s a little end of year reading update. I finished 107 books this year which was a pretty good year for me. These are the ones that stand out in my memory (with some of my Goodreads notes included):

Nonfiction:

On Immunity: An Inoculation - Eula Biss - My son gave me a copy of this well before the pandemic arrived, but it’s certainly timely now. Biss writes as a mother, with a mother's perspectives and concerns, in pursuit of understanding the history of vaccination, the fears around it, the science we know and don't know, and the ways our lives are changed because of it. She is empathetic, real, curious, and human in her responses to what she uncovers. The book is not so much an argument for vaccination as an exploration of what it means to be a parent, what it means to live in community, our dependence on each other, and the real challenge of fear. The book is imminently readable and approachable. Highly recommended.

Distant Neighbors: Selected Letters of Wendell Berry and Gary Snyder - Wendell Berry and Gary Snyder have two very different approaches to life (WB is an agrarian in the Christian tradition, GS is an environmental activist and Zen Buddhist) but both men are poets and writers who managed to forge a respectful and affectionate friendship through the years. I was so touched by their admiration and respect for each other's work, for the way they capitalized on agreement and went to each other for understanding their own biases and assumptions. My own affection for both men grew as I read their correspondence, but I was most taken with Berry, whose quiet humility, thoughtfulness, integrity and goodness shines through. What a lovely book for these fractious days.

Stamped From the Beginning - Ibram X Kendi - I don't feel qualified to judge the merits of this book as a history text - as I read I began to think of it more as sitting down with an intelligent, informed neighbor to hear their side of an ongoing story. It was powerful, shocking (not to discover that racism is pervasive, but to realize how much of it I've passively accepted in my life), humbling, and infuriating.

It is a long book, over 500 pages, and densely written. At times, I thought Kendi wielded his labels a little too broadly, but as I said, I considered the book from the standpoint of hearing a version of my history from a necessary and informed perspective rather than a precise history (though, as I said, I'm simply not qualified to judge it on those merits.) Still, it's an outstanding, eye-opening, and disturbing work that I wish everyone could read.

Poetry:

Deaf Republic - Ilya Kaminsky -

"We lived happily during the war
And when they bombed other people's houses, we
protested
but not enough..."

"At the trial of God, we will ask: why did you allow this?
And the answer will be an echo: why did you allow this?"

A parable/poem about a town's response to oppression and occupation. When a deaf boy is shot in the street by a soldier, the townspeople choose to become deaf. A moving challenge to our collective silence and our acceptance of atrocity.

Refugia - Kyce Bello - Refugia are habitats of retreat, where organisms and ecosystems go to try and survive. Kyce Bello takes that idea and explores what it means to be alive now, in a world that is changing, where much of what we love is dying. What does it mean to be a mother now? A child? How do you make plans to survive? How do you bear the weight of guilt? What will carry on? What will be left behind?

An absolutely beautiful and timely collection that has held my hand through all these pandemic days and will go on and on with me through the years ahead. (In fact, I keep a portion of one of these poems in the footer of the blog.)

Fiction:

Less - Andrew Sean Greer - I just loved this. It reminded me of a P.G. Wodehouse novel - if Wodehouse made Bertie Wooster a gay, middle-aged, slightly lost novelist and set him loose in the world without Jeeves. Sweet, funny, and quite brilliant. Nice skewering of the publishing world and writer's egos. It was a charming break from the too serious reading I've been doing.

Weather - Jenny Offill - I kept hearing how strange Offill's writing was, so I put off reading her. My bad. I absolutely loved this, and I love her style. It takes tremendous skill to pull a narrative along in short paragraphs. I thought it was brilliant. And the subject matter - a woman's anxiety about climate insecurity - is imminently relatable.

Writers & Lovers - Lily King - This story of a young woman trying to finish her novel and work through grief is one of my favorites this year. King's descriptions of the inner-anguish of novel writing alone would make this a keeper, but she has also created a protagonist that is easy to like and easy to root for.

Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead - Olga Tokarczuk - A strange little murder mystery with a grouchy, complicated, astrology and animal loving protagonist. (Somehow connected in my mind with Ottessa Moshfegh’s Death in Her Hands, which I also enjoyed a lot.)

Black Sun - Rebecca Roanhorse - Fantasy set in pre-Columbian America? YES. Fabulous world creation, characters, intricate and interesting plot, great writing. Crows. Amazing. Can't wait for the next installment.

I’d love to hear any of your favorites, so please feel free to share! (I also love to hear about books you hated and why. Unlike last year (I’m looking at you, Where the Crawdads Sing) I had a pretty good run and don’t have any books I want to burn in the New Year’s bonfire, but if you’ve got one, do tell! )