thank you for this. in my life right now, it is timely.
this week, my girlfriend and i are moving out of our building, which i moved into in 2015 and she in 2017. for the past month or two, we have been packing, planning, sorting, deciding, all kinds of action verbs, focused mainly on what things will we put into storage, what things we will no longer own, and which things will we take with us on our travels. (for june, july, and august, we will be home-free! or, the world will be our home! and also the homes of various loved ones will be our home, and some other places also.)
so, the questions "what are you burning?" and "what are you growing" are right on the nose for us, as rini takes today to decide what clothing she'll need for california next month and the UK the month after and much much more! (not that we're going to burn the clothes we don't need with us for the summer. metaphor!)
i shared this passage with her and she wrote back "That’s perfect, thank you":
"A difficult thing you learn as a grown-up is that, if you’re lucky, you’re going to have to get rid of a lot of things you love. There isn’t enough space in a single life for everything you love. And that’s really painful; actually, it’s kind of tragic. There is only so much actual square footage in the basement, there are only so many meals you get to eat and books you get to read and vacations you get to take; and, worst of all, there are only so many hours. It’s devastating because there is so much in this life worth loving. Another way of looking at it, though, is that there are a lot of right choices to make. The only wrong choice is to try to shove too much into too small a space. Your life, you might as well face it, is finite."
i second rini's words. that's perfect, thank you.
thank you for adding all of these words and thoughts and ideas into this seemingly finite life.
i say "seemingly finite" in part because even a finite life can contain the infinite. you know how there are infinite numbers, like 1, 2, 3, etc? i also like thinking about how there are infinite fractions between 1 and 2. between the ages of 1 and 2, there were infinite moments (if you go by numbers). between 1pm and 2pm today, same. infinities upon infinities. so i like thinking about that. though it doesn't make more stuff fit in our storage unit! for that, burning and growing. or, gifting and storing.
We are in the process of buying a new house and selling our current one and it’s amazing how much of what we’re getting rid of never really fit here. I have yet to get rid of something I truly love but there is a certain sadness to getting rid of things I bought in the hopes I *would* love them.
I think unless you’re lucky enough to already be in group of friends with kids when you first become a parent, parenting is a very isolating experience, especially for those of us who had kids during the pandemic. My son is 4 now and we’re only really just starting to make connections with other families. I always felt more relaxed when I could do things like go to my new moms’ group which disintegrated when COVID hit.
I also don’t think there’s a right way to lean into enjoying childhood especially while they’re still very small and so physically dependent on you. The vigilance can eat away at your enjoyment in ways you can’t feel until they’re older and you’re not quite as exhausted. That sense of time passing quickly wasn’t available to me especially since back then I was the one only working part-time and doing more of the parenting. I started to “feel sad” in that way shortly after my son turned three and suddenly seemed tall and mature in a way that I wasn’t prepared for.
Parenting is lonely the way we do it and it’s hard to say when and why that feeling ebbed for me. I think it’s impossible to see the person they will become until they’re there.
I was randomly telling my partner today about my special first holy communion ensemble! Particularly how I had white tights to wear, but I decided I wanted to lotion my legs and accidentally spilled lotion on them, and my mom got really mad at me and we had to switch to my socks with those little lace ruffles. I honestly can't remember the dress. But I do remember a classmate liked to pretend that we were getting married.
Also, the burning makes me think of the beginning of that Stars song Your Ex Lover Is Dead: "When there's nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire."
I’m burning a long life of strict religious adherence. Thank you thank you thank you for this newsletter. You made me stop and ponder for a while. I don’t have a beloved bush to represent and I’d love ideas for physical ways of acknowledging leaving all the indoctrination and trauma behind.
Jun 1, 2023·edited Jun 1, 2023Liked by Sophie Lucido Johnson
I definitely was the perfect little communion bride with the flouncy white dress and a crown veil (very disturbing) so I'd like to burn that memory. I am planning a move soon and it is surprising how much of what seemed so important no longer is. In midlife I am disassembling everything and excavating myself out of the security padding of material things. I hear you on the forsythia, though. They say "spring" to me more than daffodils and like a tidal wave of sun. The bean arch also sounds inspiring!
The parenting paragraph on the difference in your and Luke's feelings about T getting older really resonated with me. I've had the same differences with my partner. Our son AJ just turned 13. At every stage of development, I have felt relieved, while James has felt nostalgic for what was being lost as AJ grew up . We've never really been on the same page about that. I don't mean to sound like I'm projecting our experiences onto yours, but in our particular case, I did a lot of the physical labor of caretaking for AJ - the carrying, the co-sleeping, up in the night, nursing, cutting the food, all the physicality. It was honestly a huge relief for me every time AJ became more developed and more independent. Yes, I enjoyed him as a baby and toddler, but I don't see his development as a loss at all. I find it to be a joy when he can do things on his own and not need to rely on me, and while I may sometimes miss his silly innocence compared to the middle school years, I would never go back. (He can reason now! About talk with me about really interesting things!) I'm not a nostalgic person in general, though, so I'm more excited about all the growth I'm seeing rather than sad for what's being left behind. In talking with J over the years, it's been good for us to have that balance - he can help me remember and appreciate the early years, and I can help him see the positives of the present. So you're not alone in feeling that things are moving at the right pace and not feeling sad about it. That's been my entire parenting experience so far. You're not doing it wrong, just differently!
I really like the sentiment "There isn’t enough space in a single life for everything you love." Even though it could come across pretty dark, it strikes me as a relief. I don't have to try and squeeze it all in.
dear sophie,
thank you for this. in my life right now, it is timely.
this week, my girlfriend and i are moving out of our building, which i moved into in 2015 and she in 2017. for the past month or two, we have been packing, planning, sorting, deciding, all kinds of action verbs, focused mainly on what things will we put into storage, what things we will no longer own, and which things will we take with us on our travels. (for june, july, and august, we will be home-free! or, the world will be our home! and also the homes of various loved ones will be our home, and some other places also.)
so, the questions "what are you burning?" and "what are you growing" are right on the nose for us, as rini takes today to decide what clothing she'll need for california next month and the UK the month after and much much more! (not that we're going to burn the clothes we don't need with us for the summer. metaphor!)
i shared this passage with her and she wrote back "That’s perfect, thank you":
"A difficult thing you learn as a grown-up is that, if you’re lucky, you’re going to have to get rid of a lot of things you love. There isn’t enough space in a single life for everything you love. And that’s really painful; actually, it’s kind of tragic. There is only so much actual square footage in the basement, there are only so many meals you get to eat and books you get to read and vacations you get to take; and, worst of all, there are only so many hours. It’s devastating because there is so much in this life worth loving. Another way of looking at it, though, is that there are a lot of right choices to make. The only wrong choice is to try to shove too much into too small a space. Your life, you might as well face it, is finite."
i second rini's words. that's perfect, thank you.
thank you for adding all of these words and thoughts and ideas into this seemingly finite life.
i say "seemingly finite" in part because even a finite life can contain the infinite. you know how there are infinite numbers, like 1, 2, 3, etc? i also like thinking about how there are infinite fractions between 1 and 2. between the ages of 1 and 2, there were infinite moments (if you go by numbers). between 1pm and 2pm today, same. infinities upon infinities. so i like thinking about that. though it doesn't make more stuff fit in our storage unit! for that, burning and growing. or, gifting and storing.
thank you for sharing as always,
myq
We are in the process of buying a new house and selling our current one and it’s amazing how much of what we’re getting rid of never really fit here. I have yet to get rid of something I truly love but there is a certain sadness to getting rid of things I bought in the hopes I *would* love them.
I think unless you’re lucky enough to already be in group of friends with kids when you first become a parent, parenting is a very isolating experience, especially for those of us who had kids during the pandemic. My son is 4 now and we’re only really just starting to make connections with other families. I always felt more relaxed when I could do things like go to my new moms’ group which disintegrated when COVID hit.
I also don’t think there’s a right way to lean into enjoying childhood especially while they’re still very small and so physically dependent on you. The vigilance can eat away at your enjoyment in ways you can’t feel until they’re older and you’re not quite as exhausted. That sense of time passing quickly wasn’t available to me especially since back then I was the one only working part-time and doing more of the parenting. I started to “feel sad” in that way shortly after my son turned three and suddenly seemed tall and mature in a way that I wasn’t prepared for.
Parenting is lonely the way we do it and it’s hard to say when and why that feeling ebbed for me. I think it’s impossible to see the person they will become until they’re there.
I was randomly telling my partner today about my special first holy communion ensemble! Particularly how I had white tights to wear, but I decided I wanted to lotion my legs and accidentally spilled lotion on them, and my mom got really mad at me and we had to switch to my socks with those little lace ruffles. I honestly can't remember the dress. But I do remember a classmate liked to pretend that we were getting married.
Also, the burning makes me think of the beginning of that Stars song Your Ex Lover Is Dead: "When there's nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire."
I’m burning a long life of strict religious adherence. Thank you thank you thank you for this newsletter. You made me stop and ponder for a while. I don’t have a beloved bush to represent and I’d love ideas for physical ways of acknowledging leaving all the indoctrination and trauma behind.
I definitely was the perfect little communion bride with the flouncy white dress and a crown veil (very disturbing) so I'd like to burn that memory. I am planning a move soon and it is surprising how much of what seemed so important no longer is. In midlife I am disassembling everything and excavating myself out of the security padding of material things. I hear you on the forsythia, though. They say "spring" to me more than daffodils and like a tidal wave of sun. The bean arch also sounds inspiring!
The parenting paragraph on the difference in your and Luke's feelings about T getting older really resonated with me. I've had the same differences with my partner. Our son AJ just turned 13. At every stage of development, I have felt relieved, while James has felt nostalgic for what was being lost as AJ grew up . We've never really been on the same page about that. I don't mean to sound like I'm projecting our experiences onto yours, but in our particular case, I did a lot of the physical labor of caretaking for AJ - the carrying, the co-sleeping, up in the night, nursing, cutting the food, all the physicality. It was honestly a huge relief for me every time AJ became more developed and more independent. Yes, I enjoyed him as a baby and toddler, but I don't see his development as a loss at all. I find it to be a joy when he can do things on his own and not need to rely on me, and while I may sometimes miss his silly innocence compared to the middle school years, I would never go back. (He can reason now! About talk with me about really interesting things!) I'm not a nostalgic person in general, though, so I'm more excited about all the growth I'm seeing rather than sad for what's being left behind. In talking with J over the years, it's been good for us to have that balance - he can help me remember and appreciate the early years, and I can help him see the positives of the present. So you're not alone in feeling that things are moving at the right pace and not feeling sad about it. That's been my entire parenting experience so far. You're not doing it wrong, just differently!
I really like the sentiment "There isn’t enough space in a single life for everything you love." Even though it could come across pretty dark, it strikes me as a relief. I don't have to try and squeeze it all in.
Can we talk about the dog on the roof?
Also, I'd love to buy a print but the shipping cost is listed at $22.50 to send to Canada