Living with a peculiar, long-term, undiagnosable illness — one that includes black strands in my mucus (which, let's face it, is quite the experience!) — is a liminal place to live, particularly because its symptoms are mostly invisible to everyone on the outside.
Which means, as I mentioned in my last newsletter, I’m taking things slowly. Am I telling you this again because I feel like I need to ask permission to slow down? Maybe. And that’s surely a subject for therapy sessions.
But in the meantime, I’m curious how you manage these hiccups. As caregivers, and as creative practitioners whose work often lacks enforceable deadlines, what do you do when you can’t do?
As for me, I’ve been trying to put one foot in front of the other, and while some days I just want to sit in a bathtub for hours and on others, I want to jump into a boot camp and write a new novel (interestingly, that urge usually coincides with ovulation), I’m attempting to be more measured in my healing journey.
Which mostly means saying “no” more, or beyond that, cancelling scheduled events, like podcast recordings or regular writing sessions. It means not showing up in ways I would otherwise like to (in recent months, I have missed way too many incredible book launches—like my friend Ipek Burnett’s conversation at The Ruby about her anthology Re-Envisioning the American Psyche and Marie Mutsuki Mockett’s The Tree Doctor, which she just discussed at San Francisco’s fave bookstore, Green Apple Books).
It means reminding myself, daily, that time heals all wounds. Or, more likely, not. As this Psychology Today editorial suggests: Time doesn’t heal all wounds and that’s okay!
Sitting in the discomfort of a healing journey that may not have a specific ending isn’t something a novelist is accustomed to. After all, writing an ending is one of the hardest points, for me at least, of a writing journey, but also one you expect to come eventually…
So for now, I guess I am telling myself to stick with myself in this. In the absence of a busy culture, I may not find that time heals me, but that time takes on a wider dimension, one that hopefully feels a bit more full, less drawn to tidy conclusions and more saturated with a sense of gratitude for moments of health, presence, and connection.
I looked up from writing this to notice the lilac bush we planted above our dead cat’s body (yes, I know we aren’t legally supposed to bury a body in the backyard in California… but we did), well, that lilac bush is in bloom. Just barely. On the precipice of spring. As I feel my health journey may be. As I hope you are. Wherever you are today.
And if you're out there, please comment below: what do you do when you can’t do?
Recommended reading on art, caregiving, and more:
Who knew science would be interested in the connection between creativity, ovulation, and fertility? In attempting to understand my creative urges during ovulation, I found this unexpected research: “The More Fertile, the More Creative: Changes in Women’s Creative Potential across the Ovulatory Cycle” in the International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health (whose academic title suggests it is serious business).
I'm supposed to be in Westminster, by Joanna Wolfarth for The Weaver. “Today, I'm saying yes to the sofa. Yes to Netflix. Yes to just snuggles with my daughter.”
You don’t have to read this, by Jane Roper for Jane’s Calamity. “Sometimes I feel so overwhelmed that I run away screaming and scroll mindlessly through social media … And then that makes me more stressed, because why am I not using that time to consume ALL THE CONTENT??”
My 50 shades of loneliness and why I'm not going to change a thing about it, by Stephanie Jucar Cooley for Unpacking. “Loneliness with writing this newsletter, mothering, marriage, and my phone. MY F*CKING PHONE. Plus, discovering solitude and safety through my loneliness.”
On Making History — Together, by Kaitlin Curtice for The Liminality Journal. “I am the first Potawatomi woman published by my publisher … which means I’m introducing my team and all of you to my culture, to my own stories and to Indigenous ways of being in the world. It means history is happening right here, right now.”
The Animals We Think We Know, by Twilight Greenaway for The Window. “The animal-as-symbol has gone from a simple (even simplistic) warning to a haunting, persuasive image, to what many now see as an oversaturated cliché.”
No equality for working women in any country in the world, study reveals, by Kaamil Ahmed for The Guardian. “No country in the world affords women the same opportunities as men in the workforce, which found the global gender gap was far wider than previously thought.”
Accepting What I’m Not, by Molly Caro May for Modern Mammaling. “Perimenopause is a wildly profound portal. A friend my age recently said she’s encountering her own young wounds in massive ways and actually meeting them as an adult. Growing into an adult on the inside not just the outside. Yes! Me too. It’s awkward.”
The Problem With ‘Affordable’ Childcare, by Elliot Haspel for The Atlantic. TLDR: it should be free, and here’s how.
Does Everyone Want to Be on the ‘Mommy Track’? by Jessica Grose for the New York Times. “Parents who have increased opportunities to work remotely, or even just managers who are more understanding about their caregiving commitments, told me that these were largely positive changes in their lives.”
Scientists Are Finally Studying Women’s Bodies. This Is What We’re Learning. By Amy McKeever for National Geographic. “Women’s health concerns are dismissed more and studied less. But researchers are beginning to fill in those gaps — from menstruation to menopause.”
Mothers always felt like they carried their children in their hearts forever. Now science says it’s true. By Rosie Colosi for The Today Show. “Simply put, moms carry in their bodies fetal cells from every pregnancy. Forever.:
One organization you should know about:
The Birth Future Foundation is dedicated to fostering structural changes that promote racially just and equitable access to midwifery care and the midwifery profession.
Birth Future Foundation was founded in 2020 by a collective of activists who are revolutionizing philanthropy and grantmaking in order to realize a liberated birth future.
As Birth Future Foundation works toward incorporation and becoming a recognized non-profit, they are proud to be fiscally sponsored by Elephant Circle, a Colorado-based birth justice 501c3 non-profit.
PS — On my podcast, we feature inspiring creatives discussing how they meaningfully integrate motherhood (or caregiving) into their art, creating impactful and resonant work. And in my next newsletter, I’m excited to use this space, too, to highlight a musician and mother whose work (and dedication to it) I deeply admire. Stay tuned.
Lastly, to catch-up on Seasons 1 and 2 of the Postpartum Production Podcast, listen on Spotify, Apple, our website, or wherever else you may get your podcasts.