On clearing the calendar, burning a patch in the field, and the content of the days
December 17, 2021
Dear Eva,
As I sit down to write this letter, I am thinking about how interesting it is that even something one genuinely enjoys (like writing to you!) can take on a to-do vibe once you commit to it. When you have created or accepted some accountability over whether or not you do the thing, it simply gets added to the list of things you have to do within a given period of time. This definitely happens to me for holiday gift giving. I love to pick out presents for people I love, and yet the fact of having to do it during this time of year transforms it into another obligation for the November/December stack. (Although I will say that I have successfully avoided any feelings of being burdened by it in recent years, thanks largely to starting my planning earlier and leaning into “experience” gifts.) I want to think more about this idea in order to figure out how to navigate it in the months ahead. In particular, how do I avoid having meaningful commitments about how I direct my creative energy turn into to-dos? And yet at the same time, I want to find ways to ensure that my commitments to a creative practice become to-dos, and that I stick with them. If those things sound like contradictions it is because they are. But this is the mystery of the letters that I am grappling with at the moment. I want to write you a letter each week, and I would prefer to spend even more time than I do collecting my thoughts and turning them into written prose. And yet nearly every week, here I am on a Friday (albeit early in the day this time), cramming to pound out a letter with the deadline breathing down my neck. There are surely simple fixes to this conundrum. I could commit to starting my letter earlier in the week. But would that earlier-in-the-week commitment just become my new to-do? Help! This is less about the letters specifically, and more about what it means for how I prioritize the things I love and want to do. Perhaps it has to do with the fact that commitment—of any type—cannot ever be wholly untangled from obligation. And as a result, even things we cherish will sometimes feel like a burden of sorts. Sheesh, we sure do contain multitudes!
My watch just alerted me that I am “crushing it” today. Aw shucks, thanks, watch. I have indeed enjoyed my morning so far. Coffee in my cozy chair with a blanket after the kids left for school, a long walk with the dog this morning while I had a lovely conversation with you, and now back in my cozy chair writing to you. I made the decision last night to clear two things from my calendar this morning, as I had this feeling that I needed a bit of space in my day in order to avoid any feeling of crunch. Old Sarah said no, that is unnecessary and I should stick with my commitments! But present Sarah said yes, sometimes it is important to burn a patch in the field to make way. I am slowly and inconsistently getting better at honoring my need for space in my days. There are times like last night where my brain and body just get this palpable sense of fullness and instead of powering through (the work machine!), I am trying to learn to recognize that as me needing to loosen the ole’ belt. So here I sit in my freshly cleared morning hours, and I can safely say I am very thankful that I gave myself that little gift.
Speaking of gifts, I do not think I have mentioned my recent indulgence. In fact, I am fairly certain I have neglected to mention it because I was feeling a little guilty about it! I spontaneously decided about six weeks ago that I wanted to buy a Peloton, and I went for it. Now, four weeks into owning it and riding it regularly, I must say that I am pretty darn pleased with my decision! A Peloton ride may have killed Mr. Big, but it really is a delightful invention. An invigorating and intense workout set to fun music where I do not have to think and only have to strap into a bike in my bedroom and follow the cues of someone sprouting instructions sprinkled with motivational self-help? Why didn’t I do this sooner? B and I are both already addicted.
When I reread your letter again last night, I was inspired anew by your clean slate/new dawn sentiments. There really is a whole lot of new time ahead in 2022, and I plan to make the most of it. Cheers to what’s ahead!
Yours,
Sarah
Friday December 17 2021
Dear Sarah,
It’s been a rollercoaster week in a lot of ways but it’s Friday evening and I just got home from a woodblock carving + printmaking session and I am feeling delighted at having left the house and returned home again.
After last week’s intense cold, then snow and a return to “regular” winter temps, it briefly warmed up. I left myself notes on Wednesday: This morning it is foggy, anticipated to be near 50 (our thermometer showed that in fact it got up to 57 degrees) and rainy this afternoon into the evening. The snow is melting. Many times this fall we’ve had the opportunity to say, Well, it’s been a long winter, but spring is finally here.
If I have been on a rollercoaster of feelings and happenings, at least the weather’s been right there with me!
With the new year just around the corner, and with changes happening within me that I am excited to manifest as I roll through the holidays and out the other end, I found myself thinking about the caterpillar and my favorite piece of science writing, which I referenced in our letters just about two years ago:
First, the caterpillar digests itself, releasing enzymes to dissolve all of its tissues. If you were to cut open a cocoon or chrysalis at just the right time, caterpillar soup would ooze out. But the contents of the pupa are not entirely an amorphous mess. Certain highly organized groups of cells known as imaginal discs survive the digestive process. Before hatching, when a caterpillar is still developing inside its egg, it grows an imaginal disc for each of the adult body parts it will need as a mature butterfly or moth—discs for its eyes, for its wings, its legs and so on. In some species, these imaginal discs remain dormant throughout the caterpillar's life; in other species, the discs begin to take the shape of adult body parts even before the caterpillar forms a chrysalis or cocoon. Some caterpillars walk around with tiny rudimentary wings tucked inside their bodies, though you would never know it by looking at them.
I’m thinking about the changes I have planned for the new year, slowly taking shape in me now, or there all along, like the caterpillar’s imaginal discs.
I’ve realized / reminded myself that the content of my work is important to me — the news and stories and details of the field in which I work — and I realized that it’s been almost eight years since I was working squarely in the arts; even if work is imperfect, I still enjoyed immersing myself day by day in the language and creations and thought processes and aesthetics of artists and their art. The content of my days has in large part been different since then — education, science, technology, the law, open source — and I’m realizing that it is important to surround myself once again with others’ creative practices as I seek to inspire my own. It did not seem to be so long ago that I left work in the arts, and yet there have gone seven and a half years. Acknowledged, and onward!
Expired sweets are my jam these days, my bread and butter. (You’ll recall the egg nog; I just swigged a cup!) I have taken to nibbling a quantity of butterscotch chips each of the last few nights, deemed best by August 2019. I seem to recall these were a questionable purchase even at the time, as the folded seal along the length of the bag was incompletely closed, but I had been on a long hunt for butterscotch chips and these were a good variety, even if poorly sealed, and so I bought them. Leftovers from their intended recipe placement have been waiting in a Ziploc bag tucked inside the fridge door since then.
I’m thinking about your letter from last week — I wanted to spend a bit more time reflecting on my penchant for escape as it intersects with our letters. I don’t desire to escape the letters, per se, but we’ve had a rich run with them and I think we’re both ready for what may come next! I’ve been thinking that this holiday season feels different to me than usual, and I think it’s that I tend to perceive my vacations as escapes, true escapes, as if I could drop everything and airlift out into another life for a stretch. I don’t feel the same way this year, possibly because M and I haven’t flown back to Michigan for the holidays in a few years now (literally airlifting out), but I also think I’m making my way around to a way of living and working that I don’t want to escape from; I’m choosing what I want to do and doing it, slowly but surely.
It’s now after 10PM and your letter has been awaiting me for hours! I’m about to crack it open and see what you’re thinking in our third to last letter in our three-plus years’ exchange. Thank you for our conversation this morning and I am looking forward to reading your words! Happy weekend, my friend, and happy entrée into the holidays!
Until soon,
Eva