happy new year, vol 8

For the first time ever, I did exactly what I wanted to do for NYE. I stayed inside, cooked myself a fancy ass dinner, and was asleep by 10 PM. FOMO is a jerk, but I didn’t let it get to me. I listened to my five year journal’s past entries that all say the same thing…

“Brittany, NOOO! How does this always happen? STOP doing anything this day. Do NOT go out. Stay inside. Go to bed early. I repeat, do NOT make plans.”

More than anything, I wanted to start January 1st off right. So I did. I woke up at 6 AM. Hit my to-do list. Baked some scones. Went for a walk. Reflected on my year, and here I am! I must be a year older and a year wiser if I’ve finally come to terms that this is me and that’s how I like it. Ain’t no shame in my sometimes I just need to be alone game.

FireShot Capture 2 - hiller (@hillergoodspeed) • Instagr_ - https___www.instagram.com_p_BdY7jrKFEAn_ - Edited

I’ve been coming back to this poem again and again…

To Be of Use
Marge Piercy

The people I love the best
jump into work head first
without dallying in the shallows
and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight.
They seem to become natives of that element,
the black sleek heads of seals
bouncing like half-submerged balls.

I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart,
who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience,
who strain in the mud and the muck to move things forward,
who do what has to be done, again and again.

I want to be with people who submerge
in the task, who go into the fields to harvest
and work in a row and pass the bags along,
who are not parlor generals and field deserters
but move in a common rhythm
when the food must come in or the fire be put out.

The work of the world is common as mud.
Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust.
But the thing worth doing well done
has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident.
Greek amphoras for wine or oil,
Hopi vases that held corn, are put in museums
but you know they were made to be used.
The pitcher cries for water to carry
and a person for work that is real.

Can we sit with these words for a minute? Poetry analysis is for fancy, educated people (AKA not me). But to me, this poem screams Shia LeBeouf level “JUST DO IT!!!”.

This past year, I was gentle with myself. I laid low. I had almost zero personal responsibilities and was careful about my mental load. I was fragile and in a healing phase. I learned what self-care looks like to me, and I put that into practice. Now, I’m ready to take all that wisdom and push myself to new levels. To throw myself (even further) out of my comfort zone. To surprise myself and see what I’m capable of.

I can’t wait to see what we do and create this year! So much love to you!


3 thoughts on “happy new year, vol 8

  1. Bee Elle Ehch Arr

    I love you. And believe in you. Really curious about these ten go-to recipes too! I have like five that I fall on regularly but it’s getting old! Also, sourdough teamwork in two weeks omg!


  2. Pingback: support yo self sundays | for the love of food, vol 12 – awkward asshole

  3. Pingback: support yo self sunday | goals spring edition, vol 15 – awkward asshole

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