This Week's Recs

Another week of content worth sharing.

FEEL

This week, I am listening to “The Sound” by 1975.

Well I know when you're around 'cause I know the sound
I know the sound, of your heart

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EXPAND

I absolutely love Wiser than Me with Julia Louis-Dreyfus. Each week, Julia interviews women who are at least 70 years-old (a few younger ones squeeze in, too.) At the end of every episode, Julia calls her mom, which is so enduring and often hilarious. I am absolutely in love with this podcast, whether Julia is talking to Isabel Allende, Billie Jean King, Jane Goodall or anyone else, it’s such an inspiring, often hilarious, down to earth show.

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LAUGH

I can’t stop laughing at Say More with Dr. Shiela? Amy Poeller plays the role of Dr. Shiela?, a therapist. She guides her guests — to the likes of Fred Armisen, Tina Fey, and May Rudolph — through relationship issues, dealing with in-laws, parenting, and much more. I really hope they come out with a third season.

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LEARN (for the writers out there!)

I learned five things at least one editor – this one, in particular — looks for when reviewing article submissions for Hippocampus magazine.

Rae Pagliarulo

1. A turn. "We’re moving along in a story, an essay, and then something happens and I go, ‘whoa, we’re going in a different direction than I thought we were going in.’” (An example of this: “Day 1 of 1,000” by Jeanne Malmgren)

2. A seemingly small story that’s hiding something much, much bigger. “What I love is when there is a story that feels small and intimate that is hiding something a lot bigger without going into that exposition.” (An example of this: “Frill” by Rebecca Tiger.)

3. A Daring Use of Sentence Construction. “When I see something where somebody is taking real liberties in how they construct their sentences, how they put them together, and how they are using them to tell a bigger story; that’s really incredibly compelling.” (An example of this: “Two on Two” by Brian Doyle.)

4. Sensory Details that Fill the Room. “Using the senses really allows you to connect on a more human level, a deeper level.” (An example of this: “Smoke” by Mandie Caroll.)

5. A double whammy: Braided Essays and Researched Essays. “Oof! I love them both so much.” (An example: “Denial” by Jane Rucker)

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WATCH

Helen Fisher, a biological anthropologist, passed away peacefully in her home in August from endometrial cancer. You can read the New York Times obituary here.

I first discovered Helen Fisher when I was seeking out better understanding of love and relationships. Helen’s research into love revealed a deeper understanding of it, including that love is hard-wired in the brain.

She really helped me understand that intense, romantic love doesn’t last forever and the longevity of relationships is really dependent on a deeper attachment to — and understanding of — each other. (She certainly doesn’t dismiss romantic love, either.)

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AWE

Pray for Peace

by Ellen Bass

Pray to whomever you kneel down to:
Jesus nailed to his wooden or plastic cross,
his suffering face bent to kiss you,
Buddha still under the bo tree in scorching heat,
Adonai, Allah. Raise your arms to Mary
that she may lay her palm on our brows,
to Shekhina, Queen of Heaven and Earth,
to Inanna in her stripped descent.

Then pray to the bus driver who takes you to work.
On the bus, pray for everyone riding that bus,
for everyone riding buses all over the world.
Drop some silver and pray.

Waiting in line for the movies, for the ATM,
for your latte and croissant, offer your plea.
Make your eating and drinking a supplication.
Make your slicing of carrots a holy act,
each translucent layer of the onion, a deeper prayer.

To Hawk or Wolf, or the Great Whale, pray.
Bow down to terriers and shepherds and Siamese cats.
Fields of artichokes and elegant strawberries.

Make the brushing of your hair
a prayer, every strand its own voice,
singing in the choir on your head.
As you wash your face, the water slipping
through your fingers, a prayer: Water,
softest thing on earth, gentleness
that wears away rock.

Making love, of course, is already prayer.
Skin, and open mouths worshipping that skin,
the fragile cases we are poured into.

If you’re hungry, pray. If you’re tired.
Pray to Gandhi and Dorothy Day.
Shakespeare. Sappho. Sojourner Truth.

When you walk to your car, to the mailbox,
to the video store, let each step
be a prayer that we all keep our legs,
that we do not blow off anyone else’s legs.
Or crush their skulls.
And if you are riding on a bicycle
or a skateboard, in a wheelchair, each revolution
of the wheels a prayer as the earth revolves:
less harm, less harm, less harm.

And as you work, typing with a new manicure,
a tiny palm tree painted on one pearlescent nail,
or delivering soda or drawing good blood
into rubber-capped vials, twirling pizzas–

With each breath in, take in the faith of those
who have believed when belief seemed foolish,
who persevered. With each breath out, cherish.

Pull weeds for peace, turn over in your sleep for peace,
feed the birds, each shiny seed
that spills onto the earth, another second of peace.
Wash your dishes, call your mother, drink wine.

Shovel leaves or snow or trash from your sidewalk.
Make a path. Fold a photo of a dead child
around your Visa card. Scoop your holy water
from the gutter. Gnaw your crust.
Mumble along like a crazy person, stumbling
your prayer through the streets.

Take care, everyone and enjoy your week ahead.

xo,
Jenn