How to read this blog
“[F]or just one second, look at your life and see how perfect it is. Stop looking for the next secret door that is going to lead you to your real life. Stop waiting. This is it: there’s nothing else. It’s here, and you’d better decide to enjoy it or you’re going to be miserable wherever you go, for the rest of your life, forever.”-Lev Grossman
I want you to read this blog knowing two things:
These are essays, not expectations.
These are suggestions, not standards.
I want you to read this blog in your voice, not mine. I want you to wrestle with what is written, to pin it down and hold it up to the light, see if it works for you, move on if it doesn’t. I want you to second-guess the ethical sneakers I just suggested, and I want you to ask yourself if the pair of Adidas in your local thrift store are just as good (they are, if not better).
I want you to think about yourself – your complex, hopeful, curious self – and I want you to regard that self, protect that self, honor that self.
The experts might have branded me an influencer, but here’s the truth: you are the influencer. You influence you.
I want you to know that the looseleaf tea, the linen sheets, the rosewater toner, the daily planner — these things will not make you happy, or better, or “right.” They will brighten your day temporarily, as they do mine. Sometimes, that’s all we can ask for.
I want you to feel comfortable here. I want you to enjoy your time, and I want you to leave encouraged and rested and rejuvenated – ready to serve the ones you love in all of your daily complexities.
And then I want you to click “X” and let it be.
Do not lose yourself here.
We do not know each other, the two of us. This screen is not real life. If ever we are lucky enough to move beyond the pixels, I welcome it. (Head’s up: I’m a hugger.) And until then, regard me as a stranger, and take my words as such. Think of me as sanguine and spirited. Think of me as someone who exists beyond her thoughts and ideas, someone who is often-failing, often-learning. Think of me as me, today, a host of contradiction and chaos in a static, searching body.
Regard me as a simple, everyday human offering a small sliver of herself to a large chunk of humanity.
I promise to think of you the same.
