To those who have swept or have blown the leaves from the walk, have rinsed the dishes or dusted their screens, Hestia looks on you from beneath her veil. She smiles, then wraps a shawl made of sunlit October air around you.
To those who remain in bed, who are on the edge of crying, who have turned on the tv to drown out the world, Hestia sits on the edge of your bed, patting circles on your back. I know, my love, she says, I know, I know. It can be so hard. My sweet, it’s time to get up. I need you, she says. Let’s make this home a sanctuary. Light a candle. Make your hands to care about this place. Let out the work of love.
“Really, when I look back on it, I did exactly what I had set out to do. I changed my life. I woke myself up. I rediscovered passions of every variety. I forced myself to take a little time. I found a way to bring some of who I used to be into who I was.”
— Katherine Center, Everyone is Beautiful
The pit 🥚
Franz Wright, from “Our Conversation” [ID in alt text]
so I will think about nothing
Sanna Wani, “Who is the Sun, Asking for Sleep?”, My Grief, the Sun // Brenna Twohy, A Coworker Asks Me If I Am Sad, Still
five recipes for an exciting life (in my opinion)
spending enough time creating things with your hands (baking, drawing, scrapbooking, doodling, crocheting, journaling and so on)
keeping track of things like pretty skies, milestones, happy memories, appointments you're looking forward to
listening to music that genuinely makes you feel happy and energetic
making a habit of reaching out to people in a way that's comfortable to you (i send my dad songs he might like, my friend sends me monthly life updates)
being kind to all your five senses → like investing in a scented candle or essential oil dispenser or body mist, having a soft blanket or socks (or a soft animal to pet), listening to birdsong or the rain, looking at the sky more often, and having your favorite foods enough times
oliver baez bendorf “bone dust” // “you up?” rachelle toarmino // “vocabulary” bao phi // svetlana alexievich “secondhand time”(trans. bela shayevich) // har alluri “ancestral memory” // céline sciamma on portrait of a lady on fire // “the glass essay” anne carson
[grabs your shirt] listen. listen to me. the practical is holy. the everyday is sacred. the simple act of surviving is divine. do you get it? sanctity begins at home, in the hands that build and the lives we live and the deaths we die and the worms that eat our bodies. if making something by hand is not worthy of veneration then nothing is.
Frank Bidart, from Half-light: Collected Poems; "End of a Friendship" // Marya Hornbacher, Waiting // Ijeoma Umebinyuo, Questions for Ada // Rita Dove, from "November for Beginners"