What I'm Digging

A round up of this and that catching my eye lately

Happy Friday, friends. You’re here. You made it.

We’re in that liminal space between summer days that stretch on seemingly without end, and the antsy 4-week countdown before the boys return to school. Even they’re restless, missing friends, routines, and the unexpected aspects of days spent with a mix of other humans.

Meanwhile, I’m feeling a bit more embodied lately. For months, I’ve felt as though my compass was a bit off, searching for the horizon, feeling my way along with limited vision. That shifted, though, ever so slightly, just after the summer solstice, and felt especially as though it were dissipating about a week ago. I turned 50 on July 11th, and I discovered my true north once again.

It felt as though I returned home to myself. A circular path I was journeying on brought me through a full revolution of the soul. I’ve emerged with an even deeper appreciation for the people in my life, the passions and interests I hold, and the commitment I’ve long held to do what I can, for those who I can, in the manner that only I can.

It’s good to be home.

On to the roundup!

*I’ve started dry skin brushing again. I used to do it regularly, but somehow fell out of practice. After my breast cancer diagnosis last year, I’m doing as much as I can to regularly move my lymphatic system. Stretching, morning Chinese Grandma exercises, and dry skin brushing are all part of that goal. This brush is similar to the one I use (I can’t remember where I got mine, I’ve had it for so long). I keep the brush looped over the hook where I hang my bath towel, as a visual prompt to brush before turning on the shower.

*For a variety of reasons, we haven’t mowed the knob our house sits up on this year. As it rewilds, it has been intriguing to see what wild plants crop up out of the soil. In addition to enjoying the fickle finger of fate bestowing whatever randomly emerges, I also sprinkled this southern wildflower meadow mix across it. I scattered half of the bag there, and the other half down in the field my writing cabin sits in. Looking forward to the pollinators drinking deeply while I enjoy the visual field of beauty.

*This Emma Goldman tarot tee.

*Glenn gifted me a copy of Sarah Wilson’s new book I Eat the Stars for my birthday. I’m only a few pages in, and it’s a heavy, direct, contemplative book, but I’m already finding it deeply compelling. Here’s why:

It’s hard to escape the feeling that something is deeply wrong . . . that life has become precariously off-balance. We are hit hourly with headlines about catastrophic wildfires, unprecedented flooding, record heat waves, collapsing democracies, AI and nuclear threat, rising economic inequality, widespread unrest, and more. In I Eat the Stars, Sarah Wilson argues we are undergoing what every complex civilization before us has—systemic collapse.

So how do we continue to live as sensitive humans amidst such a tumultuous shift? What does life look like when the systems we rely on deteriorate? Should we be having kids? How do we make financial decisions? Should we be prepping? And, most importantly, how do we avoid succumbing to doom and despair?

In I Eat the Stars, Sarah Wilson delves into these pressing questions. Drawing on many years of research and wisdom gained from more than 200 conversations with philosophers, poets, game theorists, and spiritual leaders, Wilson takes readers on an intimate journey as she lays out a path for living fully, meaningfully, and beautifully through these troubled times. Our predicament, she argues, is ultimately an urgent call to us all to relish what is valuable to us—to eat the stars—and to return to our humanity once again.

I Eat the Stars empowers readers to move beyond panic, doom, and despair. With her warm, incisively intelligent, wise, and down-to-earth voice, Wilson creates a space for readers to confront their fears and anxieties about an uncertain future, guiding them toward one rooted in truth, hope, justice, creativity, community, and to step up as “warriors” and meet the moment.

We are in what we were warned about for decades. But from a crisis comes stunning possibility.

*After my morning cup of strong black tea, I continually brew pots of either herbal or green teas for the rest of the day. I also drink water, but it’s nowhere near as exciting. I recently discovered green tea with ginger yuzu by Yamamotoyama from a local Asian foods store. It has proven to perk up my afternoons immeasurably.

*Completely captivated by Sila, a film about Inuit women and inua, the indigenous word for the life force that imbues everything. If we experience the earth as entirely alive, as animated, as sentient, we’d be far, far less inclined to treat it in such an extractive, disposable manner. We have much to learn. Or, more so, to unlearn.

Off to play mahjong with friends tonight, which is always a balm for the soul. And then a largely quiet weekend is in store, outside of a movement class Sunday evening. It’s raining now, and has been for a good part of this week. This is the weather I thrive in, like a happy little frog.

Wherever you go this weekend, whatever you do, and whomever you do it with, may it be grand!