and we pivot sometimes
I am not writing what I set out to write today.
Back in November, I captured the initial sting of the election in a stream of conscious way. America is an idea, they say. I’m still questioning what this means. I stumbled across a Toni Morrison piece, which I shared then and it feels appropriate to keep sharing, even now:
But, creative thinking—hell, even creative expression—is so hard for me right now. I feel pulled in the direction of distraction seeking, while simultaneously pushed toward hyper-awareness and collective action.
Here is where I should tell you something: I am not writing what I set out to write today. I made significant progress on a piece defining a “girl’s girl”—a topic with which I’ve been obsessed for weeks. But as we watch in real time a malignant dunce brigade bulldoze this country, I can’t seem to get myself to finish it. Yapping about girl’s girls felt both important and frivolous all at the same time.
So I put the pen down. I opened a blank page, and here I am, allowing myself to call an audible and take a breath.
A deep breath.
I’m trying to balance what feels good emotionally with what stretches me outside of my comfort zone, and trying to do both in a sustainable way. So, today, I write you after pivoting from a heady 1200 words on what it means to be a “girl’s girl.” I’ll save that for another time.
Instead, here are eight joyful moments from January, in no particular order:
We hold these truths to be self-evident:
The bitch pack friends from the city descended upon Amarillo, Texas, where we got to see best friend perform on stage, as Maxine Hadley in Dial “M” for Murder. *Big sigh* it’s been too damn long. She dazzled the audience, per usual. Her sartorial and vocal affect, a la Katherine Hepburn, positively riveted us. Bonus: we were treated to some backstage bad bitch action…
I took Elton on a long, meandering walk without any place to be, as I manifested in a post at the end of December. Puppy needed the exercise and I needed to channel my very best Jane Austen—fresh air does you good.
I celebrated a best friend’s restaurant opening. (!!!!!) The frites! The Manhattan!! The farm table!!! The company and the hard work and the vision come to life!!!! No tears were cried (this time) but I gushed all the same (and devoured those fries).
I sent a voice-note of a hi-how are you-here’s a five minute life update to a friend group chat, which started a string of voice-notes from everyone on the chat. I got to hear all three of their voices within an hour of each other. Like a church bell ringing on the hour—3 pm on a bright sunny afternoon, ding! ding! ding! Today’s exchanges felt extra delightful and nourishing, like an antidote to whatever my current malaise caused by the pending doom of work travel.
I beat my reading goal for the month! After a slower paced reading year in 2024, it felt good to find such an array of books that each grabbed me in different ways. Fan fic, a gothic horror retelling, the best kind of celebrity memoir, a perfect novella by my fave author, a sister tale, and a Little Women retelling. Take this as an enthusiastic foreshadowing of the new and improved Book Journal dropping next Tuesday:
I held a dancer pose multiple times in my yoga classes this week without falling out of it. As of last Monday, I was still faltering in that damn pose. So, two cheers for small victories! It felt satisfyingly iterative and validating for how regularly I’ve been showing up. I’ve even got a favorite spot for my mat.
I cut short my dry January in a way that felt good. Cheers.
What have been your (large or teeny tiny) joyful moments?
Dancer pose is my fav. There’s something about that one that feels fucking powerful. I think it has to do with the way your hand is stretched out in front of you. Seems menacing (in a good way).