38 True Things

Indulge me

A Note for You, If You’re Having A Bad Day

Hi There My Friend,

It’s so nice to sit down to write to you again, after a little break to watch and celebrate birds. Of all the Made-Up-Sophie-Holy-Weeks, “Celebrate Birds Week” is my favorite one — especially because my own window is a front row seat to a bunch of otherworldly warblers and things. (We saw a scarlet tanager out the window this year — a rare treat, and my family’s favorite bird!)

Today is my 38th birthday. This time of year, I like to indulge in list-writing, and I have ever since I learned that there was a thing called the internet that could hold as many words as I could pump into it. Last year I wrote “37 Things I’ve Been Totally Wrong About”; so this year I thought I’d pull a 180 and do 38 things I am fairly sure are true.

For my birthday, I have one big ask: could you please, just for me, do one small thing that brings your animal body some pleasure? Take a nap, eat something salty, massage your own hands, sing a song in the car, have a spoonful of jam, dance a little, etc.? Tell me what you did in the comments. And thank you. I love you. I’m so glad we’re here at the same time.

Here are the true things, in no particular order:

1. No one is talking about you as much as you think they are. Probably literally zero people are currently saying, “Man, I’m so mad at [your name].” 

2. You can’t cheapen the words “I love you.” Television and movies had me believing that when you said “I love you,” you had to “mean it.” Apparently, it’s difficult and a very big deal to mean it. People are, apparently, mostly vast, loveless puddles of shallow emotion, and the lake of love is difficult to forge. Apparently. Except ACTUALLY, that’s not true AT ALL! You can love everyone. Go ahead! You can say “I love you” to someone in line at the grocery store (I mean, there may be social consequences, but otherwise), and you can mean it. And then when you find someone you love in a way you never knew before you can say, “Wow, I love you a depth I previously thought impossible.” You can say, “I feel vulnerable about how much I love you.” You can say these things and the fact that you also said “I love you” to the person at the grocery store buying both ketchup AND condoms (!!!) does not make any of the words less true. Love is not a finite resource. Don’t be stingy with it. The world really needs it right now.

3. You can cheapen the words “I’m sorry.” Apologies matter, because they allow us to tell someone else that we see how our actions affected them, and that we will work to do better in the future. Reflexively saying “I’m sorry” is a way to say, “I don’t want you to be mad at me or dislike me, so I’m hoping to insure you let slide any mistakes I have made or may make.” For many of us, it is also a way of saying, “I was taught, implicitly or explicitly, not to take up space. I see that I have taken up some space. I acknowledge now that I am not worthy of it.” You are worthy of space. Say sorry when you mean it, and figure out what you are sorry for. “Apology” is a language we all should take pains to learn how to speak — and that includes also knowing how to accept one.

4. A butterfly can have 12,000 eyes. This isn’t a metaphor for anything (or maybe it is); it’s just a fact. Non-human animals are generally objectively superior to human ones. 

5. It isn’t going to feel this way forever. It will move. My therapist said this to me today. She said, “The feeling is there now. Your body is telling you to feel the feeling. But it will move.” This goes both ways: emotions are both fundamentally human and slippery, and that’s why we’re all so naturally inclined towards eels.

6. You don’t need to buy brand new clothes. There are enough clothes. The United States alone generates over 17 million TONS of clothing waste every year. That’s about 112 pounds per US citizen. Clothes are almost never recycled, and they end up in the oceans, or in countries without room for or interest in them. The thing you want to wear is at a thrift store. Go to the thrift store and find it. (Five years ago, I decided I would not buy any “new” clothes, and I have mostly found this very easy.)

7. You’ll never finish anything early. This is called Parkinson’s Law, and it is real: the idea that work expands to fill the time allotted for it. I’m constantly shocked at how long everything takes me to finish, and also, how quickly I can get something done when the ax is to the grindstone. 

8. Always Be My Baby is a perfect song. As I started writing this list, a not-that-good brass cover of it came on, and I thought, “DAMN. Even this not-that-good cover is THE DEFINITION OF PERFECT MUSIC.”

9. You can draw! Elephants who draw, to my knowledge, are never like, “Ugh, I can’t draw.” They just do it. Never tell a child you can’t draw: even people without hands and feet can draw. If you can read this sentence about drawing, you can draw. There is no such thing as “drawing well.” You can draw “more representationally,” but no one in the 2024 art world would say that was synonymous with doing the thing skillfully. What matters is that you find joy when you draw, and this can be hard if someone told you at some point that there was a right or a wrong way to do art. This may take some time to unlearn, but oh, the pleasure that awaits you if you choose to walk that path.

   

10. Every person was once a baby. When they were a baby, they were, if only for a moment, precious, holy. So many miracles had to occur to get them to their first breath. Think about this: In almost every universe, the person did not occur. We forget, basically always, to treat each other as miracles.

    

11. Bands ought to have horns sections. I know there are lots of types of bands, but it helps.

    

12. Patriarchy causes suffering for all genders. White supremacy causes suffering for all races. The suffering is not equivalent, but it’s present across the board. No one is thriving under these systems. 

13. A nasturtium tastes surprising. “Wait… is this a velvet pepper?!”

    

14. The child is going to teach you just as much as you could possibly teach them. If you meet a child, get ready for some profound shit to take place. Children are totally pure balls of cellular matter that walk around teaching you to be interested in moss and to scream-sing when the song is good. You might think you can teach them numbers, but they’ll turn right around and teach you that numbers are beautiful.

15. God made broccoli, blueberries, the euphonium, and capybaras. The verdict is out about everything else.

    

16. Rest is a basic human need. You cannot show up as a citizen of the world if you’re not sufficiently rested. It would be like trying to show up while starving or dying of thirst. I’m talking about rest in addition to sleep. Actively resting is choosing to let your mind squiggle wherever while you put your toes in cool grass or sink into a hot bath or lie down flat on the hardwood floor of your aunt’s basement. (Wild that she has hardwood floors down there; how does she know it’ll never flood!?) You must daydream. You must gaze at plants. You must pet soft creatures who are copacetic and stretch your limbs. You must live, at least sometimes, as though you are an animal, and you don’t need to eat right now, and nothing is chasing you.

17. Aging is a gift that isn’t guaranteed. I’m thinking today how amazing it is that I get to be a year older. Every year, I get better at my life, and this is incredible; they don’t tell you that this is how it will be. They tell you, instead, to try to appear young; to invest in potions so that people will tell you you are defying time. I have no interest in defying time. I’ve worked hard to collaborate with time. I want people to know I have survived. I’m proud. None of our bodies will last forever, and change isn’t good, it’s great. There was a world where you didn’t have that wrinkle; where that part of your body didn’t sag or creak. And in that world, you didn’t make it this far. In that world, you were already gone. What an incredible, lavish thing, to get older day by day.

18. Live the things you believe.  In 2009, I was 23 years old. I kept a blog. I was in a real I don’t know shit phase of my life. I wrote that the the only things I was absolutely sure about were: “Send birthday cards; send valentines; subscribe to magazines; keep one bottle of nice wine in the house; keep fresh flowers around as much as possible; know the single place in the universe you love to read by yourself the most (your bed doesn't count); do something really self-centered every once in a while (mani-pedis and excessive amounts of dulce de leche come to mind... preferably in conjunction); read the newspaper; spend a lot of money on dinner sometimes; complain out loud about 20% of the amount you would LIKE to complain out loud; learn to Do It Yourself (knit, fix your car, make seitan from scratch, paint interiors or exteriors or on wooden surfaces, etc.).” (These are not really facts so much as they are Advice For How To Live Well, and I don’t necessarily agree with all of those pieces of advice anymore, so really, can you be absolutely sure about things? But then there was this:

    Now. After this year, I THINK this next one is true. But you know, this is the kind of statement I make and then less than a year later look back at and laugh out loud at because I was so many different kinds of wrong. I guess that really, everything is so complicated that something like the following statement is probably PARTIALLY true, or must be true for some portion of someone's life. Maybe it is only true for Sophie Johnson in the year 2009. Maybe it's not even true then. But. I think that you are supposed to live the things you believe. At least, I think that when you do that, you like yourself a whole lot more, and that makes you generally a lot more pleasant to be around. It is a very difficult thing to do, and I never used to do it all. Except for that whole vegan thing. And even then... I have been a VERY sloppy vegan. I will say this: I am a whole lot calmer and more satisfied with being alive when I know I haven't been doing anything knowingly wrong, per se. I like riding my bike. I like eating good, local food. I like working my ass off and coming to school as prepared as humanly possible every day. I believe in it and it makes me feel good.

    This is mostly true. I still believe this is true.

19. Vegetables taste better fresh. Some mushrooms are good, trust me. It is Farmer’s Market season, and there’s a reason to honor and worship this time of year. If you don’t like mushrooms and haven’t tried chanterelles or morels, let this be your year.

    

20. No one is only the worst thing they ever did. You might not believe this, because Western criminal justice systems are set up to make their citizens believe that a person’s whole life can be distilled down to whatever “crime” they were “caught” doing. There isn’t a single person who hasn’t made a million shameful mistakes; who wouldn’t be like, “This makes sense,” if a police officer came to their front door to arrest them. And: you are also all the times you said I love you, all the gifts you gave your family, all the quarters you threw into a hat, all the food you shared or time you spent with people you care about. It’s not even that complicated: people are lots of things, always. If you meet someone who finds out about Your Worst Thing and decides you aren’t worthy of love, then they aren’t ready for adult relationships.

21. There is enough great art, music, writing, etc. that we really need not study cis-straight-white-usually-dead men NEARLY as much as we do. As a writing teacher who assigns book readings, I’ve never found a reason to teach a book that wasn’t written by a person in a marginalized population. I’m not saying there aren’t any good books by cis-het-white-men; I’m just saying that there are a lot of other good books, too. The world will always find space for the so-called classics, so we might as well clear some room for the others.

22. Keep practicing, if you like doing the thing. There are no endings; practice will always be the point. If you practice enough, you’ll have the opportunity to experience change, which is very interesting and fun. But you’ll never land, and this is lucky: practicing is at the heart of joy.

23. If you have an emotion other than “kind of bored” while writing an email, call the person instead. Ditto sending an email that’s more than one paragraph long. I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you this but: the person isn’t going to read your short novel; they will, however, text you back if you say, “Can we set up a time to talk this week?”

    

24. You are tiny. You are just one animal. There is only so much you can do; so little is in your control. The world has been here for a long time; it will be here for a long time after you’re gone. There are many things you’ll never be able to know or understand. Don’t let this scare you; that is the exact fear that causes world wars. Instead, let it free you. It isn’t your job to know. Walk gently.

25. You are enormous. Your body is a powerful organism! Your mind is limitless! You don’t even know what you can do. Throughout human history, there have been stories upon stories where ordinary people have come together and pulled the grand pendulum towards justice. Choose to care.

26. You are strong enough to ask. You are brave enough to hear the word ‘no.’ The word ‘no’ does not mean you’ve done anything wrong. Hey, man, asking is scary. Can you watch my kid? Can I borrow your car? Do you want to go to the movies? Are there any openings at your job? But you are equipped with the language to ask all your questions. Often, the worst thing that can happen when you ask is that you might hear the word “no.” And you might! You can ask, and you can hear the word “no,” and that doesn’t mean you were wrong to ask in the first place, nor does it mean that you’ve lost social capital. We owe each other this kind of transparency.

27. “Door hinge” is a valid rhyme for “orange.”

28. You don’t know where you’ll be in ten years. See above blog post entry from 2009, when I postulated that “in ten years I will buy a luxurious jacuzzi bath and seventeen thousand pounds of Godiva chocolates and hole myself up in selfish excess until I weigh a metric ton and my body is a gigantic prune.” None of this has come to fruition at all. I would not have guessed, 10 years ago, that I’d be on this pink chair with this haircut and this life, writing this newsletter. And yet, here I am.

29. If something sounds equally scary and fun, and it isn’t going to seriously hurt you or someone else, do it! Jump in the lake! Eat the sweet bean paste! Ask her out! Take Korean classes! Swing dance! Tell the cashier they have great nails! ETCETERA!

30. Egg is the best word and the best shape. All hail egg. It isn’t the best food, I don’t think, but it is the vessel of most animal life on earth. Except sponge life. Which is also incredible.

31. Bikes. They are true things.

32. Not only do you get to choose your family, you must choose your family. In 2024, family isn’t something you’re merely given (although it is), it’s something you make. In order for us to survive, we have to put effort into this. We have to choose who we want to give our time to, and we have to make commitments. We need each other, we belong to each other, each other is the whole point. Family must become an active noun.

33. You have a cute butt. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable but it’s true.

34. Under capitalism, humans are not given sufficient time to grieve. They are not given sufficient time to rest. They are not given sufficient time to get their periods, or go through menopause. And so if you’re having a bad day and you feel like it’s your fault, please believe me when I tell you that it’s not. The expectations aren’t realistic. That is not your fault. In trying to survive, we often inadvertently reinforce the idea that it’s possible to thrive under this kind of pressure. This is a big lie. While enough resources exist, we are rarely provided with them by default. We have to take them for ourselves, and no one taught us how.

    

35. Actually, time can’t be taken, given, saved, or hacked. It’s just time. It exists, whether or not the word “hour” does.

36. All bodies are different. It would be easier if they weren’t, honestly. But: I read so many books and articles about how my body would react to pregnancy, to giving birth; to this diet or that diet, to various types of exercise; about how I was going to age, how I was going to thrive. The only thing that has been true about any of these things is that I have never had an experience that exactly matches anyone else’s. This can feel lonely. BUT ALSO: the lesson is, don’t make statements about other people’s bodies. And if your body doesn’t do things the same way as someone else’s body, know that this has nothing to do with a personal failing. The bodies: they vary. Like fingerprints. Like water.

37. MANY things are INCREDIBLY silly. Just a small sample: the Charleston, sloths, blanket forts, a fake mustache, penises, poops, inflatable aliens, jelly, politics, sugar water, plopping, fingerless gloves, processed canned things, decorative plates, magnetic poetry, bedazzled phone cases, wristbands, ice cube trays, yelling at the television, believing you know.

38. You are doing a good enough job. 

Housekeeping:

• If you want to give me a nice birthday present, subscribe to this newsletter! Or, see point one under “Loose Thoughts.”

Loose Thoughts:

• I asked my friend Ari where I should donate to for my birthday, and where I could tell people to donate. Her response:

  The Gaza sitch is so hard to say right now. All crossing points are currently closed so no aid can get in, but Anera is still operating inside and ready to keep going when there is any access again.

  PCRF - Palestine children’s relief fund, is still there and getting kids with urgent medical needs out.

  adrienne maree brown suggests gazafunds.com

• My sister is visiting. I want to record a “bonus podcast” where I ask her an array of fun questions. What questions should I ask her?

• We are going through something new with T, and I feel like I can’t write about it, because I don’t think it’s exactly mine to tell you about. I can’t believe this is happening already. I knew it would happen eventually, that I’d have things to say about T that I would want to check with her about first, but I thought I had more time. There’s a lot of sadness I feel about this.

• I can tell you that T likes to draw monsters.

• I saw a LOT of birds today, and I wish you could’ve been there.

• In one of the Music Leagues I’m in, the round is “songs with horns” and this round is breaking me. As I have written previously in this post, I LOVE SONGS WITH HORNS, and I can’t pick a song that sufficiently encapsulates my love of horns. I have been listening to horny music for, like, hours and days. And I’m running out of time. Nothing will ever be enough for me, horns wise.