Kate’s Five Things #23

Failure as part of the plan, Parker Posey marathons, and studded belt contemplations

Catching Up

I hope I’ve found you basking in a slower, more peaceful time of year. If you’re around my age, you’re probably laughing wickedly at the thought, like a Disney villain grossly misunderstood. Your jaw is tight, your fists are clenched, and you are shaking them towards the sky. This is a season where the hits keep coming. I understand. I shaketh my fist with you.

My kids are back in school, but our nanny quit unexpectedly over break. We decided not to replace her but to step into a new phase of parenting where a delicately woven tapestry of afterschool classes, camps, and PBS kids keeps our daily flow intact.

I figured the fragile schedule would help solidify the necessity of my intention in 2024: to be like a turtle: slow, steady, consistent. This resolution was to do what I said I’d do every day, without being unrealistic. When you have limited time, you have to be choosey. The challenge was almost a joke—an anti-resolution or non-challenge if you will. 

As it turns out, it’s way harder than I anticipated. I was so confident I could keep this intention with ease, yet the same cycle as in years past presented itself: By day five, I found myself sliding. 

Over the weekend, I started to jot down everything I did INSTEAD of the task I said I’d finish. I am beginning to wonder if I look for reasons to throw myself into a state of being stressed and busy to avoid the work I know I need to do. I don’t know yet—I’m resisting making any judgment calls in favor of simply being aware of this previously undetected resistance to my best-laid plans. 

I know that going slow, being consistent, and even discovering what “steady” means is a challenge for me. I have always known I am comfortable in chaos, but I didn’t realize how big a role it played in executing my to-do list, especially the tasks that require some internal friction. 

I don’t have any answers yet, and I don’t know yet why it is so hard to do what I promised myself I’d do. I do know that in the past, my whirling dervish approach to life has served a kind of purpose beyond being a great multitasker. I’m curious to know what that could be.

Last Week’s House Call

In last week’s newsletter, “How to Redecorate Your Home Without Buying Anything New” I write about the benefits of finding the right flow for your home before making big purchasing decisions.

Here is an excerpt:

“At their most basic, no-cost updates remind us that our homes are living, breathing places. They’re meant for play and enjoyment, and they don’t need to stay entirely the same in all the years we’re living within their walls.

The best part is that because no purchases are involved, this kind of experimentation is low pressure. We can make adjustments without worrying we bought the wrong item or spent too much money in the process. And when we decide to make a purchase in the near future, we’ll have a better understanding of the kinds of pieces that work in our home, allowing us to make more informed purchasing decisions.”

If you like topics like this one, please consider upgrading to a House Call paid membership! It’s how I’m able to do more of this (writing and creating) and less sponsored content. Thank you to everyone who has become a paid supporter of my work.

How I'm feeling this week…

Strong. 2023 shed light on how much of life is Sisyphean, especially during seasons of transition. Beyond the constant upkeep of life (like keeping the house clean), many of us are pushing an internal rock up a hill day after day.

As I confronted the same internal turmoil day after day last year, I knew I’d get past it, but I also know now that life won’t get easier as a result. I know I’ll find myself lost and at a crossroads again someday in the future. And I’m really grateful for this lesson because the experience has changed my relationship with fear and pain. I now know it is not something to outrun but to endure and face directly with the courage and belief I can cope. Rarely is it personal; almost always is it a universal human experience.

It is good to take care. It is good to rest. It is good to challenge yourself. It is good to find friction. It is good to plan for the worst. It is good to hope for the best. It is good to take stock of what you need and make changes at the right time. Life is always changing, and that’s beautiful.

Read more about these lessons in facing big change and letting go in my 2023 year in review.

What's in my cart…

Nothing much, but I have been crafting a wish list that strategically aligns with holes in my closet: brown jeans (on sale for $64 right now), a studded belt (I’ve been saving for this Khaite one but will probably buy this one with chunky hardware for a fraction of the cost), cornflower blue socks, and a shiny black headband, to name a few.

What I'm consuming…

My dad gifted me a year subscription to The Criterion Channel. I’ve watched a couple of Parker Posey movies (Party Girl and The House of Yes) and In the Mood for Love, which is the most gorgeous film I think I’ve ever seen.

What resonated with me…

My friend Hillary shared these words with me this week and I love them:

“It’s dark because you are trying too hard.
Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly.

Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply.
Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.
I was so preposterously serious in those days, such a humorless little prig.

Lightly, lightly—it’s the best advice ever given me.

When it comes to dying even. Nothing ponderous, or portentous, or emphatic.
No rhetoric, no tremolos,
no self-conscious persona putting on its celebrated imitation of Christ or Little Nell.

And of course, no theology, no metaphysics.
Just the fact of dying and the fact of the clear light.

So throw away your baggage and go forward.
There are quicksands all about you, sucking at your feet,
trying to suck you down into fear and self-pity and despair.

That’s why you must walk so lightly.

Lightly my darling,
on tiptoes and no luggage,
not even a sponge bag,
completely unencumbered.”

― Aldous Huxley, from his final novel, Island

A question I've been asking myself lately…

What does this unwanted behavior serve? My struggle to stick to a daily plan is providing some level of comfort or security in my life. What that is, I am not sure yet, but it feels good to get curious instead of beating myself up!

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Space of the Week

The simplicity of this kitchen is enough to contemplate on this beautiful January morning. Design by holliebowden. Photography genevievelutkin. More on this project is forthcoming, so follow Hollie if your interest is piqued!