I'll start us off...Yesterday, I left my phone underneath a pile of things in the kitchen and roller skated around the house with my kids trying to break in some new skates. I actually didn't know where my phone was until I called it with Nico's phone. That was huge. I want to do that again today in some way: hide my phone from myself and do something in my actual body.
I got into a post-holiday fluster early this week thinking about everything I needed to do and get done. I caught the feeling, acknowledged it, and then just sat on a couch for a moment to breathe and clear my head. And remind myself to go slow. It was only a brief pause, but it really helped reset my pathway that evening.
Thank you for sharing this, Lyss. I love how you said you "caught the feeling." I feel like that names what I'm always trying to do and often failing at—rather than letting it steamroll me into doing things that make me feel terrible.
I sat on the couch with my coffee this morning and did a little nothing. I've been thinking about the relationship between reading and productivity--as in, is part of why I read *so much* connected to productivity culture? Like, sitting on the couch with a book is an activity, but just sitting is . . . nothing. I've been trying to think about how to read more slowly, as a way of focusing on the book itself, rather than the little zing of finishing another one.
Thanks also for sharing that remembrance of Jeff. He was my teacher, and he also taught my husband and my best friend. I've been thinking of him so much in recent weeks.
I'm so sorry for your loss, Nancy. I didn't realize that Jeff was your teacher at Pitt. I'd love to hear more about him when I see you next. His loss has been deeply felt near and far.
& I love how you talked about shifting the way you think about reading to focusing on the reading itself rather than "the little zing." That resonates for me.
It's really lovely to know he's remembered by so many people -- it's been a long time, but he was so generous as a teacher, and I was lucky to get to see him lots at AWP in recent years.
Yesterday I sat on my couch and read in front of the fire with a big mug of tea while we had the first snow storm of the year. Tomorrow I leave for Belize, for a weeklong retreat with other clergywomen, so I anticipate a lot of connecting with myself and nothingness!
Thanks for all these recs, I am adding them now to my TBR list!
I'll start us off...Yesterday, I left my phone underneath a pile of things in the kitchen and roller skated around the house with my kids trying to break in some new skates. I actually didn't know where my phone was until I called it with Nico's phone. That was huge. I want to do that again today in some way: hide my phone from myself and do something in my actual body.
I got into a post-holiday fluster early this week thinking about everything I needed to do and get done. I caught the feeling, acknowledged it, and then just sat on a couch for a moment to breathe and clear my head. And remind myself to go slow. It was only a brief pause, but it really helped reset my pathway that evening.
Thank you for sharing this, Lyss. I love how you said you "caught the feeling." I feel like that names what I'm always trying to do and often failing at—rather than letting it steamroll me into doing things that make me feel terrible.
I sat on the couch with my coffee this morning and did a little nothing. I've been thinking about the relationship between reading and productivity--as in, is part of why I read *so much* connected to productivity culture? Like, sitting on the couch with a book is an activity, but just sitting is . . . nothing. I've been trying to think about how to read more slowly, as a way of focusing on the book itself, rather than the little zing of finishing another one.
Thanks also for sharing that remembrance of Jeff. He was my teacher, and he also taught my husband and my best friend. I've been thinking of him so much in recent weeks.
I'm so sorry for your loss, Nancy. I didn't realize that Jeff was your teacher at Pitt. I'd love to hear more about him when I see you next. His loss has been deeply felt near and far.
& I love how you talked about shifting the way you think about reading to focusing on the reading itself rather than "the little zing." That resonates for me.
It's really lovely to know he's remembered by so many people -- it's been a long time, but he was so generous as a teacher, and I was lucky to get to see him lots at AWP in recent years.
Yesterday I sat on my couch and read in front of the fire with a big mug of tea while we had the first snow storm of the year. Tomorrow I leave for Belize, for a weeklong retreat with other clergywomen, so I anticipate a lot of connecting with myself and nothingness!
Thanks for all these recs, I am adding them now to my TBR list!
This sounds like the most perfect mid-winter hibernation way to do nothing, Christine—Love this and hope you have a wonderful trip!