Kate’s Five Things #37

Move through life like a turtle.

Catching Up

When I lived alone in my late 20s, the neighbors living one floor below me filed a complaint. According to my landlord, I was gregariously loud and disruptive, banging and stomping around at all hours of the night. This was a notably boring time in my life, one where I was learning the virtues of being alone. I rarely had friends over. I was coming home, taking off my shoes, making dinner, and going about my life. 

I had no idea what volume of noise pollution I was kicking up. I would dream about them coming up to my threshold and demanding I vacate the premises. I feared running into them in the halls.  

One night, I heard my neighbors arguing, which tossed my idea of their relationship onto a new trajectory. Anger often reveals the truth behind the veil of saving face, and these people were very, very angry. This didn’t settle my nerves as I painted a portrait of what they might look like in my mind. 

Eventually, they broke up and moved out, and I continued stomping through life. My next cohabitant would be my husband (Joe) who has been kind enough to see my fumbling and banging around the kitchen as cute and not exceedingly irritating. That is until a few weeks ago when he said I sounded like “a moose let loose in a bathroom.” I faked shock as I knocked my hair dryer to the floor with a clatter that woke the kids and sent them beelining into our bedroom. 

Doing Less and Slowing Down

As I break my habitual propensity to ruminate, the antidote has been slowing down. From approaching delicate issues with my kids, to fixing a tomato sauce that has turned too sweet, to bouncing back after hitting a couple bad tennis balls, it’s worked suspiciously well. My heart rate slows, my vision gets sharper, my shoulders relax. Whatever I’m wrestling with becomes manageable once I loosen my grip.

Tuning into what’s rattling inside my chest has become step one in accessing parts of myself that had been previously shut down. It hasn’t been the books I’ve read about changing my neuroplasticity, or even the long walks where I worked through what my future could look like. It’s been about doing less, and doing it slowly. It has also opened my eyes to the lead-footed 28-year-old who made roast chicken like she was rattling the churchbells in the town square. I can hear my noise, I can see myself escape my reality through speed—like I’m running from myself as I tackle a mountain of laundry. If I fold fast enough, I won’t have to face this unknowable discomfort. 

The way we move through the world—the physical motions and the speed at which we do repetitive subconscious tasks—say quite a bit about what’s simmering under the surface. Sometimes its not what we’re doing that makes us stressed—or keeps us in a state of disassociation—but how we do it. 

My goal for each day is to move through life like a turtle. And it's terrifying because when I can’t rush through everything, I have to do less, and doing less means I have to know what’s important. And I don’t know about you, but knowing what’s important sits right alongside knowing myself—a dance I’ve only recently surrendered to.

Last Week’s House Call

One of the double binds I’ve been wiggling out of in my 40s is reconciling the pervasive quality of a lack mindset and the fear of being seen. I wrote about this topic in last week’s House Call essay, “How to Stop Focusing on What You Lack.”

Here is a snippet:

“A lack mindset is pervasive, particularly for those of us who have ingrained it into our sense of self for decades. A lack mindset shows up in hundreds of thoughts every day. Moving beyond it is a practice. It happens through consistently chipping away at these patterns of thought and redirecting our energy in small ways every day. It’s about building a different path in your brain and in your habits so when you’re facing the feeling of “not good enough,” you have a thought or an action to counter it and help you get unstuck.”

How I'm feeling this week…

I hurt my shoulder earlier this week and am a bit bummed to be sidelined by it. But! The start of September always feels like the new year to me, and I’m taking things easy this week and reflecting on all that has happened this summer. 

What's in my cart…

This reversible trench, this cute tennis skirt, these lace-up boots, this blouse, these jeans that remind me of my beloved Levi’s 501s, and this dark spot corrector.

I was just introduced to Atelier Saucier (love the name) and their simple yet punchy tabletop designs. These napkins are so good, and this set is currently on sale. 

What I'm consuming…

I just finished The Ministry of Time by Kaliane Bradley, and not only did it push my vocabulary up a few notches, but I fell hopelessly for Commander Gore and his compadres. I imagine him as a young Daniel Day-Lewis. Swoon.

What resonated with me…

Jeni’s essay on how to eat ice cream.. 

A question I've been asking myself lately…

What can I take off my plate? When everything feels important, it’s hard to know what matters most. I like starting with the easy things I can remove from my mental load. Sometimes just telling myself I don’t need to think about what will happen tomorrow is a huge relief!

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Space of the Week

Textile artist Pauline Caulfield’s home and studio in London, featured in House & Garden. Photography by Mark Anthony Fox.

xx,

Kate