If I could stop the hands of time, this would be the moment. This season of life, this time of year, this precise instant is simply as good as it gets. Inhale, salt air; exhale, the weight of the world.
I spin around slowly, taking in the panorama of the most picturesque New England beach. My son is far from the water playing whiffle ball and scuffing his feet to make the hot sand sing. My aunts and uncles form a semicircle of beach chairs as they do every summer Sunday, sharing local gossip and family news. My husband is face down on a towel, the most relaxed I ever see him, no cell service and no logistics to fret over, because beach days are my domain. My daughter is next to me, goggles still on her head, smile from ear to ear because she just swam to the bouy, at high tide, no less. It's a rite of passage she's been eagerly awaiting since early May, when I told her this could be the year. Her patience has been tested, waiting for me to declare the water warm enough to make the journey with her, and today felt right.
I was committed to going under, so to avoid the slow burn of wading into Cape Ann water, I chose to run and dive. Inhale, brace yourself; exhale, the shock knocks the air out of your lungs.
We started with the plan to go out over her head and just play around for a few minutes. But the water was calm and I could see the determination in her eyes. Half way to the markers that keep boats far from shore we heard Nana call, "I think that's far enough!" Her voice already seemed distant, the gentle roar of waves much closer to our ears. I reminded my little girl we could turn back at any time, but she kept swimming and chatting, reassuring me that she would listen to her body if it needed a rest; but the excitement in her voice told me that wasn't going to happen.
From shore, the bouys are clean white cylinders, bobbing way out in the blue. Up close, they have slimy algae and bumpy barnacles. A thick chain leads from the bottom into the pitch black depths, presumably to an anchor, but there's no way to gauge how far down it sits. Inhale, acknowledge the adult voice in your head shouting "sharks, riptides, muscle cramps"; exhale, see the child's eyes in front of you, which shine because the mysteries of the ocean aren't scary, they're magic.
My daughter paused for a second—considering the unexpected green coating—gave it one quick touch, one tactile piece of evidence that we made it all the way, then we turned and headed back to shore. With her mission accomplished and the waves urging us along, the return trip was leisurely. I swam breaststroke until it got boring, then backstroked with the clear blue sky above. She dove down occasionally, resurfacing with a hermit crab or an interesting rock. As we waded out of the surf, she yelled to Nana that we made it to the bouy—had she seen us way out there??
Now, wrapped in a sun-warmed towel, surveying the people I love most, I realize this is all I could want. The sleepless infant nights and toddler tantrums are behind me, the throws of adolescence still far ahead. Their independence allows me some breathing room, but they still reach for my hand to cross a street and insist on a hug and kiss at bedtime. I have a village around me, and after last year's isolation, I feel the magnitude of that blessing more than ever. I have a body strong enough to carry me out to the bouy and back. I have the sun on my shoulders and the ocean in view. Inhale, my lungs are as full as my heart; exhale because there's no actual pause button for life.
Winter will come, we'll all get older, and the tides of life will ebb and flow. I know I can't stay in this golden moment forever, but on a cold, dark day, calling this memory up will be like a breath of warm, salty air. Inhale, remember; exhale, enjoy.
This piece was written by Carolyn Mancini in response to the writing prompt in October’s newsletter. I’d love to see what you came up with. If you missed that newsletter, you can read it here.
The Woebegone Literary Society is my book club; my friend Kelli named it. She said friends talking about books and sharing food together make every “woe be gone”. We meet monthly and it is my favorite night of every month. Book club has really come to life since we started meeting again in May of this year and it was so fun to hear everyone’s “Favorite Book of the Year” at our Annual Holiday Party. Instead of making a list of my favorite books this month, I thought I’d share what the Woebies loved in 2021.
You might remember I recommended The Four Winds right after I read it. The women in my book club dare say it’s Kristin Hannah’s best novel; although I can’t decide if I like it better than The Nightingale. If you haven’t read The Four Winds, I encourage you to find a copy in 2022. You can read more about what I loved about it here.
What Kind of Woman by Kate Baer may have been the most life-changing book I read this year. It was the book that inspired me to write anatomy of motherhood, which has since been published in The Elpis Pages. We discussed What Kind of Woman at book club in July, and I think it was my favorite discussion of the year. Poetry has a way of making people feel things, and our conversation was so richly filled with emotion and vulnerability; it was a beautiful night of sharing life as women together.
Kindred by Octavia Butler was one of the best books we read together this year. It took us away from 2021 and transported us back in time—sometimes to the 1970s and sometimes to 1815. Butler uses her brilliant storytelling to tackle themes of race, power, gender and class. If you haven’t read it, it comes very highly recommended from the Woebegone Literary Society.
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Three Things to Watch for Creative Inspiration
Dickinson is my new favorite binge show. A young adult series that takes on the poetry of Emily Dickinson, it shows the inner struggle that all creative people wrestle with. Each episode focuses on a different poem by Dickinson and I am always in awe at the creative expression of the show’s writers. There are three seasons available on AppleTV; I find it to be an excellent show to watch while on the treadmill.
The Man Who Invented Christmas is inspired by the true story of Charles Dickens’ writing of A Christmas Carol. As a writer, I found it to be an incredible portrayal of how our characters appear and how words come to us. It shows both the pressure and the gift of a writer’s life. We were able to stream it through Hulu, but you can also rent it through Amazon or AppleTV.
Tick, Tick… Boom! is a new film based on an autobiographical monologue originally written and performed by Jonathan Larson—playwright of my favorite show, Rent. Lin-Manuel Miranda (Hamilton) directed the movie and I have to admit, the first time I watched it I was a tad bit bored. I was in a mood to be entertained, not to study; I can’t wait to watch it again when I have a few hours to myself. It’s the perfect movie to watch if you’re a creative person who wants to study what life is like as a creative. It brilliantly portrays writer’s block, how our characters show up in our writing, and the difficulty of telling the truth in art.
Three Links to Read
I know Christmas is behind us, but I really love this article about The Man Who Invented Christmas. I had no idea how much of A Christmas Carol was based on Charles Dickens’ real life. The movie is excellent alone, but this article really takes it up a notch.
This essay about life and messes just wrecked me (in the best way possible). Maybe life really is supposed to be a mess.
And this one about what it’s like for a black dad who has a white son makes me feel all the feels all at the same time.
Black Eyed Peas for New Year’s Day (or any day)
Nothing brings good luck for the new year better than black eyed peas. It’s clear that not enough of us have been eating them the last several years, so why don’t we all cook a big pot of them this week and eat them every day? Surely that will make 2022 better than the last two years have been, right? Here are three different recipes to try!
This Caribbean Black Eyed Peas Stew looks incredible. As an added bonus, it’s vegan, so you can serve it to anyone on the block. Make a huge pot and bring some to your neighbors. The more black eyed peas in 2022, the better.
My favorite recipe for black eyed peas is this Hoppin’ John. It’s simple, easy, and goes great with rice. I cut back the spice for my kids, but my husband adds hot sauce to his bowl.
If you live in a place where you can find good collard greens (or if you have some stored in your freezer), I highly recommend this recipe for Southern Black Eyed Peas and Collard Greens.
Three Goals to Consider
I don’t know about you, but setting goals is my favorite thing to do this last week of December. I’m working on finalizing my 2022 goals and will share early in the year, but here’s a sneak peak. What goals are you considering for the new year?
Five Songs to Listen to On Repeat
Last month’s playlist was so fun, I thought I’d do it again. Here are five songs to listen to in January. These five have been giving me courage and strength to dream about 2022.
In Case You Missed It
My first published essay came out at Coffee + Crumbs earlier this month. It’s all about what a grapefruit plant, a move to Massachusetts, and friendships have in common, and you can read it here.
I wrote a tribute to the one I love the most on his birthday, a poem from song titles, and shared ten things about my writing life in 2021.
Then, I learned how to dehydrate sourdough starter and wrote about how it unites me with my faraway sister.
For this month’s blog hop with Exhale, I was inspired by a text message from my mom to think about how messes can be a gift.
I Need Your Help!
When I started this newsletter as one of my 21 goals for 2021, I had no idea the joy it would bring. Connecting with you each month, bringing you my favorite things, and hearing from you about what’s resonating is my favorite thing about this little space on the internet. This month’s newsletter comes to you from the mountains of Georgia, where we are surrounded by extended family that we don’t see often enough. As I begin to plan for 2022, I’d love to hear your thoughts on the newsletter. Would you mind filling out this little survey?
A Prayer for the New Year
Breathe prayers have become my new favorite thing, thanks to Kayla Craig’s new book To Light Their Way: A Collection of Prayers and Liturgies for Parents. As we embark on a new year, may we all inhale God’s strength and exhale God’s peace.
As I reflect on 2021, I’m forever grateful to you, my readers, for believing in and reading my words. I hope each and every one of you have a wonderful celebration for the new year. May 2022 be full of blessings and good surprises!
Until next month,
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