dual personalities

Hi from daughter #2! How was your weekend? Ours was pretty low-key, which was just what we needed.

That said, I did actually go out on the town Friday evening. An old acquaintance invited me to a live show for a podcast we both listen to. (That’s the modern age for you — though I never see this person, she and I have kept up with one another’s lives entirely on Instagram, so we had chatted about the podcast via DM. Then, on Friday, many of our conversations began, “Your niece and nephew — they must be two and a half?” or “Did you guys buy the new condo or are you renting it?” A little bizarre, to be honest!)

A high quality photo, I know.

I had low expectations, and they were just barely met. I like the hosts, but they are not natural comediennes or performers, so it felt pretty rehearsed. And I disliked their guests a lot.

But I chalked this up as a new experience — definitely out of the ordinary for me!

For the rest of weekend, we did our usual routine. A visit to the in-laws, a trip to the grocery store, a yoga class. I really think that’s when I’m happiest: when I’m doing the things I need to do to lay the groundwork for a good day-to-day life! We meal plan, we stay active, we cuddle dogs for calming endorphins (or whatever). As my mother says, you have to know what makes you feel good, and you have to do those things.

So on that note, I’ll mention that I’ve continued to tap these resources:

We are just about finished with the Bob Dylan documentary after watching it bit by bit, and I was reminded of this song, which is one of my favorites.

Some more Walt Whitman:

O how shall I warble myself for the dead one there I loved?

And how shall I deck my song for the large sweet soul that has gone?

And what shall my perfume be for the grave of him I love?

Sea-winds blown from east and west,

Blown from the Eastern sea and blown from the Western sea, till there on the prairies meeting,

These and with these and the breath of my chant,

I’ll perfume the grave of him I love.

-Walt Whitman, from “When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d”

A colleague of mine will teach a seminar on “The Meaning of Death” this fall, and I couldn’t help but insist that he include Walt Whitman’s elegy for Abraham Lincoln on his syllabus. Have you read it? The neat thing is, his students will be able to visit Ford’s Theater, where there is a museum of items related to Lincoln’s assassination. A little morbid, sure. Interestingly, I recently heard Conan O’Brien talk about how he visited that exhibit when he was 5 or 6 years old, and he said he’s been obsessed with Lincoln ever since. There really is something jarring — in a good way — about that kind of history.

And also, my spiritual resources, which largely include Jan Karon.

Will Father Tim marry his neighbor?!?

On top of A Light in the Window, I was pleasantly surprised to learn that a top-hits radio station in my region was purchased by K Love, a Christian radio station. As I was leaving Whole Foods, annoyed that it was raining when I had to load up my groceries, I turned on the radio to hear, “It’s our worship hour this morning — let’s take a moment to reflect on gratitude!” I thought, “Well, OK!” And that’s the attitude I’ll take into this week.