a birthday list

what I'm learning lately

spring is for planting all of the things

I’ve been trying to publish something else for the past few weeks, but it isn’t working. Today is my birthday, so instead of forcing what isn’t coming together, I’m going to share a few things I’ve been learning this year. I used to do this monthly, but I’m out of practice, despite knowing that it is a great rhythm for me.¹

On turning 42, what I’ve been learning lately…

• Time is the only currency that actually matters, and learning how to be present is how you become truly wealthy.

• Nearly everywhere we think there is something wrong with us, it’s worth pulling the thread to see if there is a deeper, systems problem that we’re blaming ourselves for. Usually, we bear responsibility too, but by taking all of the blame upon ourselves, we stay blind to the ways in which the systems of power and control keep us mired in paralysis from acting in ways that might actually get to the root of the problems we face. 

• I’m learning more of the names of the birds, plants, and trees around our place. I think it might be the best way that I use my time these days, or at least in top three.

• The more we learn about the more-than-human-world, the more complex it becomes. It should make us increasingly humble in the face of all that we don’t know and understand. I came across this Rachel Carson quote that expresses it better than I could:

Contemplating the teeming life of the shore, we have an uneasy sense of the communication of some universal truth that lies just beyond our grasp. What is the message signaled by the hordes of diatoms, flashing their microscopic lights in the night sea? What truth is expressed by the legions of barnacles, whitening the rocks with their habitations, each small creature finding the necessities of its existence in the sweep of the surf? And what is the meaning of so tiny a being as the transparent wisp of protoplasm that is a sea lace, existing for some reason inscrutable to us — a reason that demands its presence by a trillion amid the rocks and weeds of the shore? The meaning haunts and ever eludes us, and in its very pursuit, we approach the ultimate mystery of Life itself.

• The older I get, the more I see that everything is interconnected and intersectional. Most of us would agree that it’s silly and naïve to think we can understand ourselves without understanding our own histories, the extent to which what we eat and how we move affects us, how the air, water, and soil health impacts our own health, how the quality of our relationships affects our quality of life. Most of us see the interconnectedness of our own ecology, so, of course the same would be true of the rest of the world around us. 

• Enjoying ourselves has to be a big reason why we’re here. If I were God, I’d certainly make that part of the deal. Find the the things that bring you joy and contentedness² and do more of them. Screw the shoulds (for the most part, see the next one!).

• One thing Grant and I have done well as parents is not being too precious with our kids about food and movement. What I mean by that is this: they didn’t love everything they ate as babies, they don’t always want to eat lentils on Meatless Monday (which is what I fix on at least 70 percent of Mondays), and they don’t always (or even half the time) want to go on a family hike or walk. However, we just made them try everything when they were babies, often many times. I keep making lentils on Mondays because they’re cheap, easy, healthy, and I like them. They eat a bigger variety of things than most adults I know, they’ve found a few lentil recipes that they do actually like, and they love having hiked even if they aren’t always excited about it in the first place. As an adult, I’ve found that I have to often just make choices that I don’t necessarily want to do in the moment because they’re better for me in the long (and often short) run: go to bed earlier than I think, drink more water, lift heavy things, run, drink less booze and caffeine, eat lots of vegetables, get outside every day. Even at 42, most of those choices I just listed don’t come naturally to me many days, but I just have to do them. It helps me to show up to my life in the ways I want to show up; the things on my “every damn day list” just generally make my life better. I’ve been learning these last few years that I have to parent myself like I do my kids when it comes to certain things that I know are good for me by telling myself, kindly, that I just have to do the thing and trust that future Sara will thank me. 

• Since that previous one sounded a little bossy, I’m also learning that, often, the softer way is better. Outside of a few things that are worth being strict about most days of the week, it’s better for my mental, spiritual, and physical health to take the slower, gentler, more forgiving path. As a bonus, when I’m softer with myself, I have more softness for others too.

• Aging is a privilege. In 2020, a good friend of ours died at 41. Seeing 42 when she didn’t feels strange and sacred in some way. I also think of her every time I get dragged into a conversation about anti-aging skincare (which is like the 40s equivalent of the losing weight conversations I got dragged into - and participated in - my 20s and 30s), and we mentally roll our eyes together.

• Getting comfortable disappointing people is a superpower, and I’m basically at the equivalent of kindergarten in this department. I want to better equip our children with how to listen to their inner wisdom first and foremost and to be willing to disappoint others (even - especially! - their parents) in favor of honoring themselves so they aren’t trying to learn it at 42 like me. 

• If the Problems We’re Facing™ is a huge tree with many branches, one of the big roots of the tree is a spiritual crisis. The more I learn about the various issues confronting us, the more I see the vacuum I wrote about here as one of the big root causes. I don’t have a ton of possible solutions, but I think, in the case of the myriad of issues facing us, we’re dragging people out of the river instead of figuring out what’s causing them to fall in the river in the first place - and our collective crisis of meaning is what’s causing them to fall in the river.

• I love life. This year has been very difficult - definitely one of the most difficult for me personally and for our little family too. And yet. I just really love my people and my place, and I want more, more, more. Andreas Weber defines love as “a practice that makes others alive and, through this, enlivens yourself. It's ecological.” More of that in the year ahead, please.

What are you learning lately? Comment below, so we can learn together!

Here’s to another year around the sun of learning and loving - whenever your birth day is,

Sara

1. I don’t like to should people, but you should try it! And I should get back to it - HA! You just journal at the end of every month about what worked, what didn’t, what brought you life, what you want for the month ahead.

2. Joy and contentedness, of course, are different than happiness, which I define as more situational and circumstance-dependent. Happiness is great too, but, for me, joy holds more meaning and nuance.