12 Weeks In
A recap on consistency and what's missing. *Chapter 12*
When I opened my eyes at 7:40am yesterday morning, I marveled at my body’s okay-ness with only six hours of sleep. Then I remembered the time change. Alas, an extra hour to spend writing to you about my week. Or… to make biscuits, watch Legends of the Fall with Alan and then proceed to sit in bed for hours, slack-jawed and scrolling countless videos that I like to call, “bang, bangs”1 (see: footnote.)
This is my 12th week of consistency here with you. The longest stretch of regular communication in my seventeen (SEVENTEEN) year tenure as a person who posts essays online. Surprising or not, I can’t decide, it hasn’t felt hard. Nearly three months of posting. Why do I STILL feel like something is missing?
Because of the ‘bang bangs.’
Today, in my Amazon cart, I had car slime and a set of clear plastic travel bags. I drive my car everyday and until 3 weeks ago (when I got really sucked into the ‘bang, bangs’) I didn’t know I should have a neatly stocked middle console, clear makeup bags full of snacks and hand sanitizer and slime to grab dust off my vents. On my way to spending $45, I took a breath and looked up from my phone. What am I doing?? Thankfully, I saved the money. Regretfully, I wasted the time. I’m so grossed out.
This week, I read a great post by Farrah Storr of Things Worth Knowing. In it she describes something I think (and write) about a lot, getting back to “who you used to be.” Be as thin as “you were”, “as happy” as “you were”. Please read her article, it pertains mostly to body image and age-ing. I love this quote…
I have spent a lot of time thinking about this as my body has resumed it’s 40-something shape. It’s not a bad shape by the way, but it is a thicker shape. A shape defined by years of gardening, a love of food, a secure marriage and all the other things that fill my forty-something life.
…but I digress. I have accepted my older body, my curves, my love of wine and food and my absolute abhorrence of ‘cutting things out’ (see: my sugar fast that lasted 4 days) but I have also accepted a sense of laziness, a lack of discipline. Writing once a week has let me off the hook from fully committing to a practice. Without a doubt, I will publish a weekly essay. This fact permits me then to spend the six other days I am not writing to waste my precious time… on literally nothing. Nothing.
This may sound dramatic (does it?) but I feel like I am fighting an addiction. When I watch that first ‘bang, bang’ at 8:45am and tell myself I’m only allowed 5 and then find myself at 10am still watching cokes roll into their plastic can holders, what has happened??
This is a rant, thanks for sticking with me. I’ve been irritated nearly to the point of tears all day today. I didn’t spend my Sunday writing. Yes, I picked up a shift and had to work but I still could have spent my extra hour plus the six others doing anything else besides staring at my phone. Now, I’ve been furious with myself all morning, self-inflicted shame.
I want to feel connected. I want to share my work. I don’t trust myself to follow app limits. I certainly don’t want to be buying shit from Amazon because some 21 year old in Utah told me to. I want to be a full-time writer. I want to read more books and articles. I want to listen to more music and podcasts. I want to be outside, looking into the distance and not 6 inches in front of me for hours at a time. I want to be IN the world experiencing it for myself.
This is the 12th Chapter. I’m recommitting. To writing more than once a week. Becoming more involved with the Substack community. Finding more places to share my work. Deleting apps that make me feel like shit and offer me nothing more than things I didn’t even know I desired. I want to be saving my money and my time, feeling whole with what I have and not incomplete with what I don’t. Thanks for being here, lovely readers, you’re who I want to keep around.
Here’s the list:
READING
So many great articles.
“The Woman I used to Be” from Things Worth Knowing by Farrah Storr
“The Ground on Which We Stand” from Freer Form by Shira Erlichman, quote below, this article talks about meditation and the humanitarian crisis in Palestine. To say it is wonderfully written is to massively understate it’s beauty.
As attractive a notion, there is no one-time-fix, no one-time-heal-it-all-meditation. Each time I sit, I am required to reestablish my intention just as I would in daily life, say, with the dishes. The way to use dishes is to take them out of the cupboard, put food on them, get them dirty, wash them, dry them, put them away, & start the process all over again when it is time for another meal. That’s just how it works. An intention is like a dish: it requires use & engagement for it to be useful.
“Everything I Thought I Knew About Nasal Congestion is Wrong” by Sarah Zhang for The Atlantic and also because it is stuffy season “Why has a Useless a Useless Cold Medication been Allowed on the Shelves for Years?”
WATCHING
Legends of the Fall. It’s on Netflix right now. God, this movie, pardon my French, pissed me the fuck off. But day-yum, Brad, hubba hubba.
LISTENING
The Dream This podcast came recommended through another Substack post I read this week. I cannot recall which but oh.my.god. y’all, I am so obsessed. I haven’t been this into a podcast in ages. There are 3 seasons. I’m halfway through the second. The first is all about MLM’s and pyramid schemes. The one I’m currently devouring is all about the wellness industry and has me on the edge of tossing out every supplement Instagram told me to buy. It’s honestly also I think why I feel such a rage today about the time I spend consuming these minute long commercials for products that are utter bullshit. If you want a good podcast, I highly recommend this one.
Okay. Rant over.
Have a phenomenal and relaxing week. I hope you are safe, eating warm meals and readying for a cozy, winter hibernation.
As always, I am sending you my love.
xoxo.
Known commonly as ‘fridge restocks’ or ‘pack with me’ shorts, each minute-long video contains about 100-1million cuts. Bang! Bang! Bang! with each Diet Coke placed in an Amazon bought *affiliate link* can dispenser into the cleanest, largest refrigerator you’ve ever seen. Bang! top goes on. Bang! top gets flicked. Bang! serum drips onto cheek, ‘get ready with me’ shorts. I lose an hour (at least) a day to this actually stupid shit. It is slowly deteriorating my brain. I am melting.
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consistent queeeeen
Bang! This is the end of my day in München, Deutschland.
Ich bin sehr stolz auf dich, meine Tochter. Ich liebe dich, Papa