These past two weeks have not been my favorite. In fact, they’ve been some of the hardest I’ve faced so far. One of my kids is in the hospital right now (respectfully, that’s all I’m going to share about it). It’s been a rollercoaster of coordinating schedules and hospital visits, being present for my other kid, doing my best to stay updated on what’s happening at work, and taking care of myself so I can do everything else. Establishing this rest practice was annoyingly prescient and effective right now. It’s hard. And I’m also so lucky to have the support and care of my family, my friends, and my incredible team at work. Most of all, we have the financial security to get our kids the care they need. It’s such an immense privilege, and one I express gratitude for every day. For all of those asking how you can support us: we are all set. But please consider donating to this fundraiser that purchases medical debt for those in need. I’m a firm believer that books find you at the moment you need them most. And this stretch has been no exception. My friend Aishwarya Iyer recommended Love Yourself Like Your Life Depends On It by Kamal Ravikant, and it has been truly transformative during this rough stretch. The premise is simple: build and practice loving yourself with four tools. Do it every day. All day. Especially when you need it most. I wanted to judge this book so hard, and I did—only to find that in my lowest moments, telling myself “I love myself” over and over again really did help in a way I can’t quite explain. When my father-in-law visited, he read me the riot act on being visibly so low. He reminded me that I am brave and strong and capable of handling all of this—and that my being positive would help the rest of the family heal and stay positive too. The day he gave me that loving lecture is the same day Dr. Deepika Chopra’s The Power of Real Optimism arrived. Combined with Love Yourself, it’s helped me actively practice positivity and self-love in a way that’s getting me through this incredibly difficult stretch. I have my advanced copy of Waiting for Dawn by Marisa Renee Lee waiting for me as well. Putting my phone away and picking up a book is how I practice sensory rest. Everything I’ve listed here has helped me through this crisis—chia water, this woo-woo playlist, Monologue, and monochromatic coloring. Once my son was admitted to the hospital (after a long ER stay), we were able to settle into a routine to balance visiting hours and being home with our other. I’ve been going for a long walk after drop-off. I should be doing these in silence and untethered from my phone, but I’m usually listening to this book or dictating random things (like this Substack, on Friday morning). I do the lunchtime hospital visit, and need to decompress when I get home. Around 4 pm, I’ll take a shower and do my full skincare routine, put on a cozy lounge set, and take one of these gummies to unwind without wine. Our sitter handles pickup and after school activities, and I have dinner nearly finished by the time they’re home. The timing may change, but I want to keep this evening routine when things settle down. It’s been really restorative. One thing I haven’t stopped doing is scrolling, and I finally got tired of it mid-week. I vibe-coded Pause, a quick check-in that has helped me stop scrolling. I started a new chat with the prompt “I want to vibe code an app that helps me stop scrolling whenever I pick up my phone. What this app would do is ask how I’m feeling, ask how I want to feel after a session, how much time I have, and then offer up a self-care practice I can do for that prescribed time. What do you need from me in order to start building this app?” It’s only been a couple of days, but it’s quickly become my off-ramp from scrolling and switching between apps. It’s a simple web app, but you can install it as an app on your phone: iPhone — open Pause in Safari → tap the Share button → “Add to Home Screen.” There’s no account creation or storage of your data (it lives locally on your phone). It’s a simple tool that’s helped me reclaim more time and peace, I hope it helps you as much as it’s helped me. In this whole stretch—and well before it—I feel like I lost myself in the roles I hold. It’s something I verbalized during therapy this week, and I was putting a lot of pressure on myself to try and fix it immediately. On Friday morning, I wrote this in my journal: The seed of who I am and will be in this next chapter is planted safely and deeply inside me. Just because I can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not there. And I trust the seed will sprout and grow at the right time. I can’t force the right time. I can’t force what our new normal will be, because there is no going back to the way things were before. But for the first time in a very challenging past two years, I feel steady in knowing that the new normal is the one we need, and it will take the time it needs to fully develop. There’s no rushing or forcing it. I need to trust that it will be okay. things I’m loving right now
If you enjoyed this letter, please consider:
Take exquisite care of yourself. xo,
|
figuring out a new normal
02:04
0
