On Sustainability
Lit Lib Weekly vol. 12 | Truth telling & share your fave reads
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What I love about this space is that I decide how I come to it. I don’t know if you can be introspective to a fault, but sometimes I feel like I'm teetering that line. I’ve been planting seeds, watering them, and watching them fail to thrive. Maybe there’s too much shade in its path. Maybe I’m not stepping enough out of the way so they can be warmed by the sun.
I am not embarrassed by failure, not like when I was younger. It sharpens me. It lets me know that it was probably premature—not the wrong idea. It needed more time. Time to stretch in the sun.
Two years ago I had a meeting that affirmed the path I’m on. It affirmed everything I was doing and planned to do since—including today. It’s important to be a realistic person and recognize when your two hands simply aren’t enough. It’s cruel to punish yourself for not accomplishing things on an arbitrary timeline you’ve set for yourself. Life, that funny little thing, will always remind you that there are other things around you—things that require more attention. Things we would be irresponsible to ignore. So the timeline bends and stretches and pulls you in. Making you feel like you aren’t doing enough, when you are doing so much (times infinity because this isn’t the totality of your life).
Right now I’m reminding myself that everything moves at its intended pace, whether I want to recognize it or not. That requires new stores of patience. New stores of determination. It requires pivoting when you’re thrown curveball after curveball. I’m reminding myself that all is possible and some will be done—eventually.
I had a powerful conversation with a friend this week that put this moment of my life into full perspective. When I had that initial call two years ago, my life was the way it had been up to that point. Since then, I’ve been introduced to my new pal, Peri. She’s a loud one. She shows up to wreck my preconceived notions. She shows up, taps my shoulder and says “aht ahh…you still got some ego about you. We gonna work that out.” Whew she’s something.
I don’t know how to say any of this, but I think I’ve been shaken to my core. This morning I had two conversations: one with a newish friend that flat out said I need to slow down and honor myself and another was 25 minutes of voice notes to another friend I’m currently working on a project with where I pretty much processed the first conversation and came to some major revelations about myself.
I have been playing the role of martyr for a very long time. So long, perhaps, that I almost don’t know how else to be. Even when I think I have done the work to course correct. I want to write. I need to write. Somehow, I find ways to block myself from that experience. I’ve delayed gratification so frequently in my own life that it’s hard to recognize that all this “service” I’ve devoted to everyone else really has left my own service and devotion to self emaciated. This isn’t new to me; it’s not a deep revelation even in the slightest, but I see how I make excuse for ignoring self to the benefit of everyone around me, to every whim, to every great thought. I allow all this stuff to devour my time. Time. That’s something I’ve struggled with for ages. Time is tied up in ego and control and colonialism and I need to continue to decolonize how all these things present in my life.
So what am I doing and in turn asking of you as I figure out my next steps and declare this one precious life for myself? Patience and loving kindness. If you are a paid subscriber, you have access to our archive. Utilize it. If you aren’t, join us at whatever rate works best for you (see below). I’m not disappearing, I’m restructuring my life to prioritize myself in the most beneficial way for this season I’m in. And this season requires bouts of slowness. So we gonna take it slow.
We have projects in the works that are still happening. Sign up for them. Become an active community member. Join us over on Slack (we might even move eventually). I’ll still work on creating a cowriting schedule that will run month to month. Tuesday and Thursday cowriting sessions will remain free. We’re introducing one new feature next month and we want all of you to jump in and share your thoughts once it’s live. When we reintroduce workshops, sign up for what resonates with you.
I’m rethinking how obligated I've been made to feel to Substack, because this place wasn’t even the point. It was a platform. It is a platform. It needs to remain a method for sharing information that doesn’t take over anyone’s life. There needs to be a healthy boundary between what we want to give and what suddenly becomes expected of us.
And yes, this is going out a day early. But I am taking back my Fridays and definitely need to rest.
A book is not a book
In other news…I’ve been mulling over getting an e-reader because reading on my iPhone has destroyed my eyeballs and I'm still searching for the perfect pair of glasses. I own a lot of digital versions of my favorite books, but i’m thinking that I need to go back to my original dream of owning physical copies of my favorite books and possibly nothing else. We have shelves overflowing (one day, when they aren’t all piled on the floor I’ll show proof), but I wouldn’t say they are books I can’t live without and a huge chunk of them are books my children have aged out of.
What do your shelves look like? Are they treasured books you read again and again or a fancy display of TBR? No judgement if it’s the latter. I have a few piles rising high of those. I’ve only recently been able to concentrate on reading for my own pleasure again this year.
Recently…
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Thank you for reading the twelfth volume of Lit Lib Weekly. Every week,
, and the occasional guest editor will curate all the things that have impacted us that week and share it with you in hopes of turning you onto someone or something new. It will probably vary wildly, which is what has me very excited for future issues.Become a paid subscriber and share us around to help more people find us!