Summer book list 2022
A conversation with my mom the other day, in a frenzy where I was leaving my family for a remote corner of the world where no one would find me: “…and I have like 20 books I’m reading but I don’t remember which one’s I’ve started or where I’m at with any of them!”
“I’m the wrong person for this problem, I never know what book I’m reading!”
I’m a firm believer that the books on your shelf will tell me where you’re at in your life. One time we were staying at an aunt and uncle’s house who had recently uprooted their lives as empty nesters and had just moved into a new town. We were visiting, and the uncle I’ve always admired had his bookshelf near the basement guest room we were staying at. I snuck a peek at his current titles and it only made me admire him more.
A person’s bookshelf is nonverbal communication into the inner workings of their psyche. There, I said it! It is that deep & soulful. Let me offer you my inner psyche, ahem - summer bookshelf - for perusal:
Summer Book List
The Little Paris Bookshop – Nina George
Gift From the Sea – Anne Morrow Lindburgh (on repeat each summer)
Finding the Mother Tree: Discovering the Wisdom of the Forest – Suzanne Simard
Summer of ‘69 – Elin Hilderbrand (free little library near the park my daughter plays)
The Idle Parent: Why Laidback Parents Raise Happier & Healthier Kids – Tom Hodgkinson
Maiden to Mother: Unlocking our Archetypal Journey into the Mature Feminine – Sarah Durham Wilson
The Heroine’s Journey – Maureen Murdock
Women of the Bible: 25 Enduring Stories – Special LIFE Edition
If Women Rose Rooted – Susan Blackie
The Sand County Almanac – Aldo Leopold (free little library again, I must start giving books back!)
The Quilters, Women & Domestic Art – Patricia J. Cooper
Sunflowers, A Novel of Vincent Van Gogh – Sheramy Bundrick
Ya-Yas in Bloom – Rebecca Wells
Mama + Mini Book list (Toddler, 2yrs+)
We have graduated to library days where River is willing to go for the toys, and the toys only. When I encourage her to just pick out one book before going back to play, she has consistently grabbed titles to do with pooping, underwear, and any other excrement kids have coming out of their bodies before she returns to lego-building, rocking fake babies to sleep, and staring at older children. I like her style. Here’s what I choose for her to have my needs met at bedtime:
I Sang You Down From the Stars – Tasha Spillett-Sumner & Michaela Goade
Julían is a Mermaid – Jessica Love
Powwow Day – Traci Sorell & Madelyn Goodnight
Max and The Tag-a-Long Moon (she genuinely likes this one, gifted by Bebe) – Floyd Cooper
Babies in the Forest (board book) – Ginger Swift
No More Pacifier for Piggy! – Bernette G. Ford
Tallulah: Mermaid of the Great Lakes – Denise Brennan-Nelson & Susan Kathleen Hartung
Touch
What do you spend your days touching?
My child’s hand.
Whole vegetables, chopped and steamed.
The pen. The paper. The favored candle in amber glass.
Skin. His. Mine.
I smile at the irony.
All this time seeking in my mind what my body spends the entirety of her day holding.
There is nothing more to do.
The best vessels
There is less time to obsess away these days, with a little one in tow. You would think this would make writing easier but it has paralyzed me instead. I’ve come closer to understanding why with Brian Eno’s take on surrender and control, via Austin Kleon:
“We’ve tended to think of the surrender end as a luxury, a nice thing you add to your life when you’ve done the serious work of getting a job, getting your pension sorted out. I’m saying that’s all wrong.
”I don’t know if you’ve ever read much about the history of shipbuilding?” Not a word. “Old wooden ships had to be constantly caulked up because they leaked. When technology improved, and they could make stiffer ships because of a different way of holding boards together, they broke up. So they went back to making ships that didn’t fit together properly, ships that had flexion. The best vessels surrendered: they allowed themselves to be moved by the circumstances.
“Control and surrender have to be kept in balance. That’s what surfers do – take control of the situation, then be carried, then take control. In the last few thousand years, we’ve become incredibly adept technically. We’ve treasured the controlling part of ourselves and neglected the surrendering part.””
The best vessels surrendered. They let themselves be moved by the circumstances. I am in a season of surrender and it is uncomfortable. We are taught control will bring us what we seek because we will have chased after it and wrestled it to the ground. There is a tempting veil of certainty in this approach to everything from selecting the next job to following the Google map to your next destination. We can make whatever we want surrender to us. This is only one side to the story. And I’m on the other side; surrender.
So many moments up to this point in my life have been about controlling the outcome. I’m very good at control, most people are when they’re telling everyone else what to do. Now I’m in a season of surrender without any tools or guidance. Surrender doesn’t come equipped with tools or guidance. Are there any companies, sports teams, armed forces being taught how to lose properly? The definition of surrender suggests it is negative and you do not want to be the one surrendering. It is described as being a victim, a weakness, losing to an opponent or an authority figure.
While these are all true instances of surrender, I am focusing on the surrender of my internal, personal life. My direct experience of the last couple of years as of late where my body was at the mercy of pregnancy, my career at the mercy of the white man’s bottom line, and our world at the mercy of an unknown pandemic.
It’s the first time I’ve had to truly acknowledge the hard truth that many women have learned earlier than me; I am less than in the eyes of society because of my gender. That’s a lot to unpack, a lifetime’s worth. What I’m getting at, in Enos’ metaphor of the surfer, is there is a time for control, a time for surrender to the elements, and a time for control again, and the cycle goes on. I am not in the control part, I am learning how to surrender to the elements, and I must admit — I kinda like it.
Like a well-flexing vessel, I need to find the function of being intentionally bent so that I don’t sink.
Summer book list 2021
“Keep going, keep going, keep going.”
James Patterson gave this response to Lauren Graham’s question “How do you do it"?” at a casting dinner. She was referencing his accolades as an author & relays the interaction in her book, Talking As Fast As I Can.
My head is in the weeds. The minutiae of motherhood. In my defense, I wasn’t seeking motherhood in the middle of a global pandemic but it’s what I was given so in the weeds I’ve been as a result.
I prefer Austin Kleon’s take — I’m dormant. Waiting for the next cycle of bloom. Waiting is not my specialty. It requires faith. People craving control aren’t comfortable trusting what they can’t see, or what they don’t know, because it requires the exact opposite of what they do to feel safe. Anyways, this waiting for what I don’t even know what I’m waiting for has paused my writing until I know more. This is a mind game, of course, but I’m working through it; a summer sabbatical full of beach mornings, The Real Housewives franchise, & midnight panic attacks every so often.
This pause, however, has been wonderful for reading books. A social media hiatus freed up pockets of time formerly invested in aimless scrolling. Time scrolling was replaced with turning tangible pages of beach reads, historical fiction, local history, & that damn self-help category that keeps finding its way to my shelves. My summer book list, in chronological order kind of:
Summer Book List
The Genius of Birds – Jennifer Ackerman (part of WMEAC Book Club)
The Paris Library – Janet Skeslien Charles
Gift From the Sea – Anne Morrow Lindburgh (on repeat each summer)
The Stepford Wives – Ira Levin (part of Marcie Davis Walkers Black-Eyed Bible Study)
Women of the Grand: Their Legacy – Wallace K. Ewing
Summer on the Bluffs – Sunny Hostin
For the Love – Jen Hatmaker (gifted)
The Summer Wives – Beatriz Williams
The Montessori Toddler – Simone Davies
Workparent – Daisy Dowling
Cribsheet – Emily Oster
Talking As Fast As I Can – Lauren Graham
Mama + Mini Book list (12-15mths infant)
River enjoys racing to the end of a book to make the noise of slamming it shut, lest you think we have a 1-year old scholar. But honestly, why do we put these weird pressures on infants? To calm any unnecessary comparisons, please note this book list is compiled of titles me & family members have picked out for her:
Where the Buffaloes Begin (free from daycare) – Olaf Baker
We Are Water Protectors – Carole Lindstrom
Into the Forest (gifted), board book – Laura Baker
Besos for Baby: A Little Book of Kisses, board book – Jen Arena
World of Eric Carle, My First Library: 12 board books set (gifted) – Eric Carle
Top Nine 2020
Top Nine 2020
Formerly known as Best Nine, the Top Nine of Instagram results are in. The top 9 posts on Instagram, based on likes, are selected for the year. I haven’t seen anyone post these this year so I’m guessing it’s not cool anymore. I still enjoy seeing my grid at the end of each year though so here we are.
2020
2.2k likes in 44 posts
50 likes/post
The amount I posted this year decreased by 50% & with that likes/post decreased. My Instagram account was completely private in 2020. I didn’t use it as a portfolio or blog aggregator like in past years. The numbers fairly reflect that. I’m more private about my daily life as of late. I thought less app time meant less influence but I’m sad to admit that wasn’t the case. Instagram is a consumerist machine now, by design (eww.), & I no longer wouldn’t or couldn’t keep up with the rat race. Working in marketing for a retail brand made it hard to leave entirely. It’s a key indicator of our online audience which affects my role on the team. I engaged with it less this year personally though due to pregnancy, new mamahood, & the pandemic. It was a relief to think for myself again; my self-worth was attached to Instagram success a lot in 2017-2018. Since then I’ve worked hard to intentionally & routinely set stronger boundaries with it. Creeps up on ya if you’re not careful!
About 40% of top photos were pregnancy photos, 30% about discovering my family values in real-time, with another 30% of photos related to having a career during early motherhood. That’s 100% of photos related to a woman’s journey to motherhood. Very accurate because motherhood is all-consuming. It affects everything from the woman as an individual to her marriage, her relationship with her family, how she wants her immediate family to grow in partnership with her partner, & her career.
Most of the posts I wrote during my maternity leave this summer were deleted but if they hadn’t been, they were some of my top posts. It suddenly felt too personal to have my daughter’s face with my tender thoughts meant for her only, displayed for everyone to peer into. I was getting to know her for the first time after 10 months of anticipation. The blue light glaring in her nursery felt exploitative so I put our photos with my words elsewhere for safekeeping. Not before Mamas sent notes of love, encouragement, & optimism that only one Mother can give to another though. I leaned HEAVY on the Mama IG community of mine in the final weeks of pregnancy & the first months of Mamahood. I have no regrets. If it wasn’t a pandemic, I probably wouldn’t have but my Mama friends are the one thing about Instagram I’m truly grateful for this year.
“Together” | Artwork by Quentin Monge
My 2020 IG goal was to follow accounts with unpopular opinions, strong messages, & inspiration. Girl did I. If 2019 was about minimizing who I followed to under 100 accounts, 2020 was about maximizing my followship double-fold. I followed more people who don’t look like me, AKA basic white bitches. I renewed my childhood love for the WNBA, am here for intersectional environmentalism, oogling over Pattiegonia, & getting my white privilege checked by Dr. Kiona. Following doesn’t do much by way of tangible change but reading people’s stories changes the landscape of our minds and from there new worlds are created. I’m hopeful for what’s on the horizon by way of empathy, compassion, & sensitivity. This is really for no one but me, just happy to recognize a personal goal realized.
2021
I honestly wonder if I’ll even have an Instagram in 2021. I’ve been holding onto it because I put so much work into it in the past that I thought deleting it completely would feel like a waste of all my time. But now, Instagram is just in the way of my actual life. An added obligation on my already endless list I can’t keep up with. The ROI on friendship, connection, & self-worth sucks.
The real world just wins every. single. time.
Even the shitty, ordinary parts of the real world win over the glossy parts of Instagram. I’m fatigued seeing curated lives online & then talking with people in real life where what they’re saying doesn’t line up with what they’re posting. It doesn’t bother me that they post the highlight reel, I do the same. I just prefer the conversations I have with them in real-time. If the lack of time with people this year has shown me anything, it’s that the time we do have with another is the most valuable – in the most essential way, time is the only most valuable thing we have with people. And I’m tired of throwing that all away for appearance’s sake.
Maybe I won’t delete IG but I’ll have an account that has to do with something other than myself. Ha, what a concept!
2019
5.2k likes in 90 posts
55 likes/post
2018
15.5 likes in 177 posts
88 likes/post
2017
9.2k likes in 113 posts
81 likes/post
2016
3.1k likes in 95 posts
33 likes/post
Enter your Instagram handle [here] to see your Top 9. What are you most proud of this year?
Someday
I like the angle Austin Kleon takes with his blog — it’s reference material, notebook sketches. He writes to discover what he’s thinking (many a writer claims this). Eventually, he finds a thread to unravel further, a topic resurfacing in different forms, a root with which to pull from.
I’d like to write a book someday.
No particular reason. Just enjoy writing. Always have.
I’m in no shape to write a book currently. The throes of early motherhood are nary a time to reflect deeply. Or to strategize. Survival mode, baby. Popular quotes allude to “someday” being the antithesis of following your passion.
To which I say, timing is everything.
Until then, I keep writing.
Who can you trust?
Can you change a person’s mind? Can you make them see your point of view? Can you see theirs? How do we teach empathy? Is it possible to not agree, to feel as if you’ve been wronged by another person & love them anyway? Forgive them anyway? Against your logic, your ego, & your baggage?
we are all being asked to look within for our own truth. being influenced by another has gotten out of hand. How do you know who to trust?
Start with yourself.
Screen time
My thumb hovers over the screen.
End of the day. transition to the next season. Hard news about a friend.
I try to tap a square that will make me feel good again. Less tired, more inspired. I deleted them all. For moments like this when I am weary. When I am more than fried looking to fry some more.
Thank you past me for thinking of the future me. You’ve never needed what can only fit into a box.
The World
A year ago she pulled my first tarot cards.
I was in Seattle for work. Finished the trip with a visit to my cousin & his girlfriend’s place. I’d spent the week in a swanky hotel in the heart of the tech boom. My cousin lived in Capitol Hill. In a novel from another time they were beatniks. Refreshing after the breakneck speed I was coming from.
After guacamole & rum tiki drinks around town, she did my first tarot reading. There was a line of them, a reason for each. I only remember the last — The World. It represents a milestone coming full circle. A goal accomplished. An ending making room for a beginning.
That tech boom event in Seattle was my last. Flew home by the light of the Harvest moon, closer than I’ve ever been to Her. I was pregnant soon after.
Do I believe in the cards? Oh, I don’t know.
But I believe in that moment.
Begin again.
What if I published my writing every day? A question I’ve asked myself half as long as I’ve been blogging.
the time is never right. I’ve made this excuse year after year. I’ll start in January. I’ll start on my birthday. I’ll start randomly & tell no one. I won’t start at all because it’s a bad idea & I’ll fail. Or I’ll be interrupted. Or it will stress me out & I’ll quit another project. Again. Or I’ll get bored. & quit. Or it’ll leave me unfocused on what I care about. So I’ll quit.
Obviously, the trending fear here is that I’ll quit.
just like my very first post 7 years ago: to begin, begin. And in this case: to begin again, begin again.
we’re living in a time where everyone makes grand gestures for little things. My daughter will have more pictures & letters written to her from me during the first months of her life than she’ll ever care to sift through. We celebrate the teeniest of milestones. Brushed my teeth today. Buy the same exact toothbrush I use to have the life that I have. Everything has to feel like “an event”.
this practice leaves me drained, out of tune with the point of gathering & making things, & feeling like I can never keep up with the Joneses. There are too many Joneses.
but enough bitching. Was just jumping back in to ask the question, “what if I published my writing every day?”
30
Thirty: the year of relinquishment. In only the most optimistic, freeing sense.
Pushing through & demanding victory at all costs does not heed the desires I have any longer. I enjoy winning & beating everyone but my dad at HORSE in basketball but this isn’t what I mean by resignation. I mean melding into the new person I’m becoming. having little expectation this first year of a new decade. Nothing grand. Not quite “back to the drawing board” & not quite “full steam ahead”!
I want my family healthy, celebrations modest, & our hearts full but not at the expense of others. Not a pause but a silent reworking.
Shifting like sand on a breezy day. when walking the dune gives question to your location on the way back through. the path shifted while you were in awe of the lake in front of you.
Relinquish:
+ rules no longer fruitful
+ traits no longer defining
+ goals out of habit
+ the constant search for balance
make room for old traits with a new outlook. Daily. I geared up for surrender to what was meant for me last year when I alluded to a “ghost year”. It brought me a harvest moon pregnancy, a step towards an environmentalist career, a strawberry moon baby, deeper depths in love, & an *almost* debt-free existence.
relinquishment to myself - Emily Grace, let it unfold. These untouched layers yet within you. You thought you knew it all. The path for you. The goals to reach. Yet you kept finding when given the fork in the road, you were pulled to paths you’d “never” take. It was there you started finding yourself.
keep your eyes open but observe right now. old things have revived with new outlooks. Relinquish control of the outer, so you can listen to your inner. There is so much more to explore.
no need to chase it. The path will continue showing itself to you. Have faith.
Black Lives Matter
Artwork by Quentin Monge
This past week has been a whirlwind of emotions. Listening, researching, self-reflection, talking about the white policeman David Chauvin murdering the unarmed Black man George Floyd & the wave of nationwide protests that have rightfully followed. The murders of George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, and Breonna Taylor have shown as a mirror my reflection of complacency to speak against injustice.
See current news source for more details here, here, & here.
I regret not saying Black Lives Matter openly earlier. I tip-toed around it when expressing how the 2017 Women’s March inspired me to act on women’s issues. I was close to saying it in full during the 2018 Fall 10x10 Challenge when the #10x10representationmatters conversation opened my eyes to minorities in the sustainable fashion industry. It’s taking much inner work to dismantle why a statement I believe in is difficult to vocalize. I think it stems from my unconscious biases.
I fear the people I’ve hurt most with my negligence to vocalize their lives matter are my Black friends. I rationalized they don’t want to hear it from me, but don’t we all want to feel seen & loved by our friends? Especially our friends. I like to say I live by the moniker “actions speak louder than words.” Actions might speak louder than words, but words must first talk to turn up the volume that is action.
I’ve become hyper-aware of my responsibility to make lasting changes in my life as a first-time mother (my daughter is due next week). To teach her and live by example, I have a lot of unraveling to do. The people around her are crucial to her growth in being a conscious, empathetic, informed, and compassionate human being as well.
It starts with words. Let us steadfastly hold one another accountable for the actions that must follow. We can do it together. Grace & patience for our inevitable missteps, but once we know better, we must do better. There is an urgency to begin now. For my family and me, I desire the long game of anti-racism (please click the link for the definition even if you’re uncomfortable). To foster a safe, just, and equal world for our children different from the world in which we grew up.
Who I’m listening to:
Brandy Gueary of Authentically.B — Brandy is 40 weeks pregnant & due any day now. I love following her pregnancy & Dr. appointment updates. She recently talked about self-reflection & having grace for people as we navigate how to dismantle racial injustices. Especially while pregnant needing to keep a healthy mental mindset for baby amongst the chaos & national unrest.
Erica Chidi — Erica is the author of Nurture: A Modern Guide to Pregnancy, the pregnancy book I’ve found the most helpful so far. She writes like a warm hug. When you’re scared & anxious about how the baby will come out & how the baby is about to change your life, she is the person to listen to. She has a digestible list of books by Black women authors with an encouraging note to white women on how to navigate internal & external discussions on racism. She also spoke to prioritizing mental health parallel with anti-racism work to avoid burn out & not to place the responsibility of learning as white women onto Black women who are not offering. This is DIY work.
Vote — Short-term change can be made at the next election. State primaries in Michigan are in August 2020 followed by the presidential election in November 2020. Former President Obama gives me hope & a starting place to make real change with resources from the Obama Foundation: Anguish & Action.
Silly Fantastical Dream World
I am wired to work.
Self-discovery bubbles up quickly in solitude. I’m comfortable in this space due to working from home frequently in my career but the discovery of self is discomforting regardless of practiced habit. Especially when what you’ve discovered is no longer serving you.
Pandemic or not, pregnancy or not, my default in both crises or a silent moment is to do something.
“How beautiful is it to do nothing, and then to rest afterward.”
Is it surprising this proverb originates in Spain, or anywhere else but the States? An American is incapable of expressing a sentiment such as this, they don’t have the experience to speak to it. Doing nothing is a betrayal of identity. We’ve been on a schedule since conception. To then rest after the nonexistent occasion of doing nothing? Incomprehensible. The progress and profits we would lose. It’s a silly fantastical dream world that should be quickly breezed over before we let it hit too close to home.
This is exactly the kind of world — do nothing, rest afterward — that will save us.
I miss Brave Girl
I miss my old blog, Brave Girl. What she stood for, the simplicity of it all. Maybe what I miss more is that season of my life. In my early 20’s where all of this felt fresh & exciting. My future was a blank canvas. I set out to build something all my own I could be proud of. That others would come to & admire, feel less alone, or connect with a like-minded human. I had a passionate fervor toward creating & expressing myself wholeheartedly. It’s all I focused on & it was all under my altar-ego, Brave Girl. I reaped a lot of rewards & successes because of it, something I care deeply about.
And then the very thing that drove me to explore my inner workings, to say them aloud, is the very thing that made me clam up & not love it anymore. It’s the challenge of any journey. It’s why I like the beginnings best. The middle & end can be melancholy or change like a kaleidoscope. Suddenly you look up after staring down for so long & you don’t recognize what’s in front of you. It’s a completely different shape than the one you were trying to make (maybe the one you need, not the one you want).
A conversation with my mom years ago; I came home exasperated after some social event,
“Mom, I’m not that kind of girl.”
“It’s funny how we become the girl we said we’d never be,” she replied.
I never set out to share a filtered life, or to be on-trend, or to grow a following based on shallow pretenses. I became exactly what I said I would never be. I suppose it’s a good time to rebuild then. To pull that kaleidoscope back out, watch how the shapes change.
Image credit: Poem by Tess Guinery, an excerpt from her book The Moonflower Monologues
2019 Year in Review
Celebrations in living, style, & career in 2019.
It’s ironic I claimed 2019 a ghost year after all that has happened. I feel more whole than any other year thus far. All the plans in the world can’t guarantee you the certainty you seek. Chasing certainty is a fool’s game but it’s the one I often default to. Except in 2019, I didn’t. I didn’t set goals as I have in the past. I wasn’t intentionally trying to be present either. I just…was I guess. Here’s my 2019 recap in living, style, & career.
Living
Ran a half marathon
I was adamant about getting my health in a better place this year. I’d gone too long ignoring ailments completely in my control. The Root Cause Reset program with nutritionist Diane Teall Evans was a game-changer. I started kickboxing & training for a half-marathon soon after the program. My body was ready to handle the kind of exercise I hadn’t done since high school basketball.
Joel & I spent the summer training for the Sleeping Bear Dunes Half Marathon. He made a training schedule that synced with our calendars to ping us on miles for the week. He included hard hill & trail days I tried to get out of. I thanked him every mile for his rigorous schedule when it came to race day though. We supported one another at our different paces, changed eating habits, & talked about the race all summer. He even gifted me with an Apple Watch to track my miles! I don’t know what was better; finishing the race or doing it all with him. It was such a special time.
Related: Our race results / Root Cause Reset Program / Sleeping Bear Dunes Half Marathon
Paid off 50% of student loans
I can’t believe I’m even writing we paid off 50% of our debt this year! We wanted to pay off 33% so this was a huge accomplishment. Especially since it felt impossible in January – I was hourly at a print shop part-time & teaching one class as an adjunct professor (read: making very little money). When you commit to a dream, regardless of how illogical it seems with your current circumstances, a Higher Power helps you out. Not always, but often. If you don’t speak it, how does anyone know what you want?
I stumbled into a lucrative gig soon after (see Career below) that allowed us to pay off debt while maintaining our monthly overhead. It’s been eye-opening to talk through how we each see money & find a common plan that works for our differing spending habits. We had hard conversations that we discovered had little to do with money. Money is emotional.
We started loosely with Financial Peace University. I keep track of our wins on a private Instagram account & Joel keeps track of numbers on a spreadsheet. It’s important we each bring our personality to this challenge. Otherwise, it’s easy to feel resentful & unheard.
Related: Money: A Love Story / Dave Ramsey’s Financial Peace University
Travel
It was a big year of travel. I visited Austin, Seattle, & Atlanta for work. I needed to prove to myself I can be a savvy solo traveler. The perks weren’t bad either; immaculate hotel rooms with stunning city views, business class, everything at my fingertips.
We also went to Morocco & Spain for two weeks this Spring. It was our first time abroad made obvious with plenty of logistical mishaps. We had friends guide us & I’m forever grateful for their help. The trip was romantic. Being lost in the mountains of Spain with Joel was a dream. I will be inspired for years to come from all we experienced & observed.
Style
Capsule wardrobe-ish
I started 2019 with 150 pieces for 4 seasons, about 38 pieces/season. Soon after this accomplishment, I was bored as hell with capsule wardrobes. Especially after visiting Morocco & Spain where I was inundated with beautiful styles from a myriad of cultures. The style was vibrant, expressive, & hodgepodge. I adored it. It felt like LIFE. ENERGY.
Taking outfit photos & writing style posts takes a lot of time. Always looking put together & documenting it was good for my ego, & popular on social media, but I wanted to spend time elsewhere — like making money to pay off loans & travel more. My approach to blogging doesn’t make me money. haha.
Job transitions required different styles too. 2019 was back to the drawing board to discover a style more me. I’m still trying to figure it out which involves trying new things vs. a rigid structure. I want to bring personality into my wardrobe, not water it down. Getting dressed should be fun. Or overlooked to make room for something new. While also finding a balance with fast fashion. Such basic white bitch problems. lol.
Related: How I define a capsule wardrobe / 10x10 challenge / Style inspiration
Career
Design Professor at Grand Valley
It was my second year teaching design at GVSU this year. Spring semester I created an unorthodox exam for my students that they loved. The fall semester was a breeze as I had a lot of my systems in place from the prior year. I was in a groove. I loved seeing my students discover they were capable of pushing themselves to greater heights. Seeing them build confidence in their work & present projects eloquently remains one of my greatest joys.
Design lead on million-dollar+ tech startup events
In February I joined a San Francisco-based events team to aid in their design builds all over the world. I suppose million-dollar events don’t mean much at the corporate level but as a solo freelancer used to event budgets 30 times less than that, it was a big deal to me. Especially when it came to leading print orders totaling $70k+. You know those milestones when you’re like, “I’ve made it”? This was one of them for me. I was traveling to some of the newest & swankiest hotels to plan, curate, & create experiences for the tech industry. It was a wild ride with a kickass team of women who don’t take shit from anyone. It was an honor to work alongside each of them.
All I kept thinking was, if I never left the safe haven of the path everyone told me I should take 6 years ago, this would’ve never been possible. Take the chance, take the chance, take the chance.
Related: My design portfolio / The unpaved path
Last year was about contentment. This year was about boundaries. I talk about it in detail here. Basically, it was high time I have an open dialogue with myself; why is this bothering me, how does this person or scenario make me feel, how can I heal from hurt to find joy again? Once I started prioritizing healthy internal conversations, I was able to have honest ones with others. It isn’t easy or fun, but it’s necessary for your well-being. To be able to look around at your life, be proud of it, & grateful for the support group who’s in it. I’m closer to that because of 2019. Not a goal I would’ve made for myself but one I must’ve needed.
Word of the year: 2018 Contentment | 2017 Growth | 2016 Celebration
2020 Outlook
I’d love to travel to Ireland or Maine, pay off more debt, get my dream Jeep, & be outdoors more than I am indoors next year. I hope you've had a wonderful 2019. Best wishes for 2020! Let's all honor what we need within in order to give graciously to others. xo, Em
Best Nine 2019
Best Nine 2019
It's that time of year again for the Best 9 of Instagram. Best 9 generates the top 9 posts of your Instagram, based on likes, for the year. I enjoy seeing my grid at the end of each year. The results are a fun addition to the bigger story. Everyone approaches Instagram differently. I’ve changed my approach & mindset to the app a lot over the years. So, let’s dig in!
2019
5.2k likes in 90 posts
55 likes/post
I’ve increased likes/post each year since 2016. This year is an exception — my likes decreased by 30 per post. I’m proud of this. It means my time on Instagram was reduced. I disabled my account the first quarter of the year, was a private account for 6 months and removed 75% of accounts that didn’t bring me joy. A private account allowed me to decline friend requests from people I don’t know, avoid spam accounts, & remove accounts who follow to lurk and judge. I also didn’t give my students access to my personal account. Digital boundaries are important. It’s healthy, safe, and takes up less mind space.
Original photo via Schoolhouse
This year my top photos were warmer & brighter thanks to Liz Galvan’s LMB presets. Over 50% of the photos were personal moments — our dream of owning an A-frame someday, my love for Michigan and colored glass, our favorite wedding of the year (rosé very much included!), and Joel teasing me about my mirror pics. I’m pretty sure his single mirror pic was more popular than all of mine combined!
Kherington & I chatting at Lyon Street Café. Photo by Leigh Ann Cobb
The rest of the photos were career moments — my studio refresh, a celebration of 6 years as a freelance designer, and two dedicated to the annual women’s day event I co-host.
My main 2019 goal was more personal life, less career chasing. It’s fun to see my grid reflect my goals. Especially in the sense that everything was reduced. Less followers, less likes, and less screen time. More LIFE.
Maybe 2020 will bring me even less, so I can be present even more.
2020
In last year’s post I said, “…I recognize it's time for a mindset shift. I am BURNT. OUT.” I shifted my mindset in 2019 and I’m so happy with the results. If you’re an artist, small business, or anything visual to profit from your creativity, Instagram sucks you in big time. I stepped away and lost nothing I needed in terms of financial security or friendships. If anything, I received more in genuine friendship, career clarity, & a stronger sense of self.
In 2020 I hope to have more of the same. Instagram is so different now with paid partnerships, brand exposure, and retail sales. There’s great value in this but everything in moderation. What we see is how we translate our world. In the coming year I plan to follow accounts with unpopular opinions, strong messages, & inspiration. I’m not so concerned with my IG community. The people I spend real-life time with in all our messy humanness is my community. They are who make up my life. Who are there when life is joyful, tough, & ordinary. They remain my focus. I hope the same for you.
2018
15.5 likes in 177 posts
—
88 likes/post
2017
9.2k likes in 113 posts
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81 likes/post
2016
3.1k likes in 95 posts
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33 likes/post
Enter your Instagram handle [here] to see your Best 9. It will generate your results within seconds. Pretty cool! What are you most proud of this year?
Gratitude
Listen, we all have hard things. You’re going through one or a few right now. Me too.
The slowdown of the coming winter months brings plenty to the surface. It was easier to avoid in the fast-paced, hot days of summer. However, hard things are year-round.
Maybe in the slowdown, we recognize them more intensely. We sit with them longer as the day fades quicker & quicker. As if inviting them to a warm hearth. Stay awhile.
I now understand why gratitude is desperately needed this time of year. It is the greatest warrior for the wounded, and we are all wounded.
The heartbreak that builds in life means you are among the living. Gratitude for what is pure & true will give you strength.
Only then will you rise.
Photo by Leigh Ann Cobb
Sabbatical
My blog is many things; confidante, walk-in closet, workroom, cheerleader, podium.
One thing it is not? Consistent. Because life isn’t consistent. All of the stories that are not mine faded away when I acknowledged consistency isn't my purpose here. It left the story that is mine standing at the forefront. Crisp & clear.
So, where have I been? I’ve been teaching, traveling, running, kickboxing, visiting, saving. I’ve been on sabbatical from translating my life to make space for my life’s transformations.
Of course, translation & transformation can be in the same room together. They’re good friends who have established healthy boundaries. They know one another’s drink order & hobbies. When one needs solitude the other is ready to gather. Translation & transformation leave space for each other because they’ve learned together they make one whole.
I am not twitchy about these necessary shifts as I was in my early years of writing. I feared these gaps of not writing would make me irrelevant. All of this work would be meaningless & I, too, with it.
But the gaps are where all the juicy nourishment lives. It is in the unspoken, unseen, & undocumented where the sweetness lies for the writer, for the reader to eventually enjoy.
May I remember in the chaotic storm that is creation & inspiration — it is the gaps where we are reborn.
29
Is it weird to consider this a lost year already? Or a ghost year maybe. I'm in between being young without any responsibility and being old with a lot of it. There was all this time...before now. Now there is less of it. I had a decade of my twenties to get my shit together. As I enter the last year of them I wonder if I've only made more shit to sift through. But the purpose of life isn't to get through it. Before 29, I tackled life. I ran at it full force & tried to make it mine. I tried to own it, control it, mold it into a reality I could handle. A truth I could face. I want it? I got it. It's a helpful attitude for running a business. But life is malleable. It surprises, it throws curveballs. Shit happens. Your heart changes. Someone you love dies. It can be unfair & cruel in a split second. Life doesn't respond with a participation trophy.
Life is a reflection of how you show up with the time you have here on Earth. Everyone loves this metaphor when the reflection staring back is celebrating. Or when it is youthful. Sunkissed. A little buzzed. Where it gets interesting is when the reflection staring back is hard to face. Maybe you were the one that was wrong. Maybe you were the one who's trying to figure out where you fit in all of this. This being any number of things; family drama, relationships, a new team, a growing family, your community, whatever. Or maybe you love where you're at but when you look around there is no audience cheering you on. If no one sees a happy person uploaded, does a happy person exist? I can tell you with absolute certainty that yes, happy people do exist even if you don't see them.
I'm not talking about the bright white happiness we all consume yet know is bullshit. I'm also not talking about its opposite; inflated & triggering news that isolates, separates, & ostracizes. I'm talking about the dirt-under-your-fingernails kind of happy. The deep belly laughs only your brother can bring out in you kind of happy. The introducing your cousin to a passion of hers & showing her it is real kind of happy. The sharing the bed when you thought you'd only ever be a mattress hog kind of happy. The in-flight, airplane mode, how the hell am I above the clouds, kind of happy.
When I was in grade school my mom would take me back to school shopping around this time of the year. (This might seem like an immediate curtail from what I'm saying but stick with me. It's related, I assure you.) It was enough to have a first day of school outfit and some other items to fill in what I had grown out of over the last year. It would get to the big day and I wouldn't wear the new items. I'd keep them hung up with their tags in my closet for weeks. My mom noticed and asked, "Why aren't you wearing the new clothes we picked out for you?" To which I responded, "I don't want the newness to rub off. I don't want to tarnish them".
There's a phrase for this. It's called foreboding joy. It means putting off joy thinking if you let it seep out in little increments, it will never go away. You'll have stored up enough joy by holding off on feeling it so when the opposite rolls around, you'll have enough to combat the impending doom you're sure is coming for you.
So maybe year 29 is knowing challenges are inevitable regardless of how hard you try to be the best version of yourself. The challenge is not related to who you are as a person, challenge is a standard item that comes with living. It's inescapable. But holding off on expressing joy out of fear it will go away is only hurting one person's reflection. And it's the one that needs to matter most to you. The bravest thing you can do is look yourself in the eye – in moments of both challenge & joy. To another revolution around the sun.
May it be a good one. xo, Em
Everything has to change
“Everything has to change so that everything can stay the same.”
I read this in my current beach read. The quote is from the film Il Gattopardo, a story about the decline of the aristocracy in Italy after the Risorgimento of the 1860s. It stopped me in my tracks for how true the phrase rings. We are uncomfortable with change. It's an inevitable part of life yet entire industries have been built on trying to avoid it (think: any product for aging women).
I have never enjoyed change yet can turn to specific moments where it was the catalyst to a truer journey; quitting my studio job to pursue creative independence, moving from a bayou rental to owning a cottage near the lake, going to therapy to unearth a deep wound and all the healthy boundaries that blossomed from the digging. Why the friction with change? A more solvable question: How can we live with it? How can we work through the discomfort & the friction?
My answer has always been to create – writing to work through the challenge or to let the pain seep out in a beautiful way. Sometimes it's lettering quotes, or sketching out dreams, or reading about people I admire. Friction is unavoidable. What you do with it makes all the difference.
Most deceased artists I read about are legends now but when living they were ostracized from their families or communities. The way they chose to live was different than what was common for the time. They believed something was wrong with "the way it's always been". Instead of abiding by oppressive rules, they dedicated their lives to changing the rule. I wouldn't have the right to vote if it wasn't for people refusing to accept their current climate and I wouldn't have a fruitful career if it weren't for women before my time demanding a rightful change.
There is a multitude of other rules with pillars of people standing behind every positive change that has been made. Maybe they weren't artists by definition but observing, expressing, & documenting life from different angles is art in the truest sense.
The goal is not to tread lightly with your life so others are happy with you. Chances are they won't be happy with your attempt anyway. Contorting yourself to fit into another person's box carefully crafted to benefit only themselves will not do you any justice in your life. Don't stir the pot for the sake of stirring the pot but don't live small just to be patted on the head for being "a good little girl".
Change is unlearning a lot of rules & expectations placed upon me that I didn't have a say in making. I'm rewriting the script, it is mine after all. Just like your script is yours. If you're not happy with the way your story is unfolding, you need to change it. You're the only one who can. The only person who needs to be proud of their life is you.
Sometimes, everything has to change so that everything can stay the same.
Photo by Leigh Ann Cobb