The costume that brought me shimmering joy

And a search for words to describe life lately 🍂

It’s been two months, and I’ve really missed writing to you.

Over here, the sky is set to drizzle all day. I’ve been sitting at my desk and staring out the window, trying to find Something Deep to write about. It’s not going super well. I’d tried this searching-for-words thing a few weeks ago, and another time a week before that, but here I am, still feeling far from my writerly self. There’s plenty I wish to say, but I can’t. Or, at the very least, I shouldn’t.

Last year, when I decided to share online again, I thought of several writing principles I’d try my darnedest to uphold. One of those principles was to write from a place of sincerity and integrity. Sometimes this means I delay publishing posts till I’ve worked through personal grumbles. Other times it means I choose not to tell a story—as true as it might be—because my gut hasn’t given the go-ahead. Iffy motives aren’t good enough for me. I don’t want to participate in that kind of ick. At the same time, I’ve got three decades of people-pleasing in me, so of course there are moments I overthink and don’t share because I’m afraid to offend—even if publishing online could be helpful and right and an act of generosity.

Aaron and I talk quite a bit about that provocative piece of wisdom: “Do not give what is holy to dogs, and do not throw your pearls before swine, or they will trample them under foot and turn and maul you.”¹ What’s the pearl-slinging equivalent on the public internet? If you can’t control who reads and engages with your vulnerable work and you can’t control people’s responses, then how do you know what to share?² I don’t want to be trampled on. I also don’t want to hide.

Life has me in a precarious position right now and I can’t backbend my way out. There is fear and anger and sadness and indescribable fatigue. No one is forcing me to write about my current ins and outs, and I know I could share stories from the past, especially if they’re lighthearted. But that still takes a big scoop of energy and I’m feeling much more like melted goop than a mediocre sundae.

My priority is attending to my offline life’s demands, but I want you to know I still care about nurturing this little spot at Nōto. It feels so special because of you, and I never want to take your reading and being here for granted. 🫶🏼

Recent things I’ve found & made 🍂

This autumn, my curiosity has roamed about cat-like, sniffing here and there, tail brushing against topics of interest. I’m thankful for this because it’s helping me not despair.

Recent discoveries have included concepts such as anti-libraries and digital gardens which unveiled a nerdy part of the internet I hadn’t seen before. I’ve also watched interesting documentaries (Crip Camp, 32 Sounds, The Inventor, Citizenfour), learned a tiny bit of coding, thrifted a delicious stack of books from Goodwill (currently reading Henri Nouwen’s The Road to Daybreak and Harriet Lerner’s The Dance of Anger), and even found a 1970s copy of Beverly Cleary’s Beezus and Ramona from our nearest Little Free Library.

I’ve also been building out my quote library in Notion which I finally organized into tidier topics! Earlier this year, I shared how I planned my wedding using Notion. It’s continued to be a fantastic tool for my personal life and for work.

At the end of September, I made a fall wreath that I’m proud of, and miraculously, the decorative squirrels remained intact through tropical storm winds. The wheat became droopy, but I don’t mind it. Making seasonal wreaths over this last year has been a calming activity for me, and I want to get into more tactile hobbies. I can’t wait to decorate for Christmas and put up the winter wreath!³

Okay and lastly, I had the MOST FUN making my look as Ursula for our costume party!! One night, I was running errands when I found a black floor-length dress covered in iridescent sequins. It was on super sale, and I bought it because anything sequined, glittery, and affordable makes me happy. On the drive home, the costume idea high-beamed me. I spent the next couple of days getting the accessories and makeup together, though I’m pleased to say I already owned that wildly red lipstick.

After painting on brows (with eyeliner) till they were immovable, shimmying into the dress, and clipping on the wig, I felt… like myself??! Never mind that I wore an unusual amount of makeup and lashes so long they smushed against my glasses. Somehow I’d reconnected with an integral part of myself. After the party, I realized—of course! I’d grown up on the stage and performed for 13 years of my youth. Wearing costumes, headpieces, and dramatic makeup were all part of settling into a character, and I always LOVED it. I didn’t do anything close to this in my twenties, so I must’ve forgotten the shimmering joy I feel when playing a character. ✨

That’s what I’ve got for today. (It turned out to be longer than I expected. Two whole paragraphs about a costume? I hope you don’t mind.)

How are you holding up? Does life seem more low than high? What are you thinking and feeling these days? When do you feel most like yourself?

Please share if you feel comfy doing so. I’m always delighted to hear from you and do my best to respond to every comment. 🐦‍⬛

Till next time (soon, I hope!),
—E.T.

1. Jesus words’ from the Gospel of Matthew (chapter 7, verse 6).

2. I wrote about this conundrum before.

3. You can find the sweet little owl wreath pictured here: A reminder on what counts as a “good life.” 🦉🌲