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What To Say When You Have Nothing To Say

This weekend we had friends in town visiting and we filled our days (and nights) with food and cocktails and rainy walks to see the world trade center and the statue of liberty and, of course, my favorite coffee shops. They left this afternoon around 2:30 and we sent them off with happy, tired, dehydrated goodbyes. 

We also traveled last week and came back to full schedules and to-do lists. Between that and hosting this weekend I haven’t found (made) time yet to sit down and write today’s musing. What I should’ve done when our friends left is immediately grab my computer, throw on my noise cancelling headphones, and get to work. What I did instead was crawl under a blanket with Olive and watch Julie & Julia while Steven slept in the other room. 

I never do this. Between my job, my home, this blog, and my BeautyCounter business – (to say nothing of friends, marriage, etc.) – there is always something I can be doing. And being the Type A perfectionist that I am, I usually do it. Which sometimes looks like the aforementioned computer + headphones + writing, but oftentimes is resizing images for Weekend Stuff while yelling out (incorrect) answers to Jeopardy with Steven. Or sending voice messages to my BeautyCounter team while throwing potatoes into a skillet. Or creating pins on Pinterest to help promote this newsletter because the internet told me that’s how to gain exposure. TBD on if that’s true or not.

This isn’t a look-how-busy-I-am brag despite how much we all enjoy those in this culture. It’s just a little context to say that my watching a movie on my couch this afternoon was both extremely unlike me and indulgently enjoyable. It is also, however, the reason I am sitting here at 6pm on Sunday night not having written the blog that needs to be sent in roughly 12 hours and counting.

The movie if you haven’t seen it is about the ever-adored Julia Child and the woman who became internet famous by cooking through her entire cookbook in a year and writing a blog about it. 

It was cute. Set in both New York City and Paris so of course I loved the scenery. Made in the early 2000’s so a little cheesy and a lot of bad haircuts. But overall a very nice Sunday, leggings and leftover garlic knots, too tired to give my full attention kind of movie. 

The story takes you through both Julia and Julie’s paths to learning French cooking and becoming writers. I am a sucker for any story about the gift and curse and circus ride that is writing and the ways in which it makes a person whole. 

But it sent me into a spiral of introspection about why I write and what I hope to gain from it all. Which was heavy and maybe unanswerable. Especially when paired with the anxiety of not having written Monday’s blog post and my newfound post-garlic knot shame. (There’s a lot to unpack there.) 

I thought about taking a nap. Pulling that blanket right up to my chin and just settling into all that insecurity and uncertainty – the meaningless metrics of the blogging world, the deep, deafening worries about what other people think of me, the looming fear of not being ________ enough, the tireless game of filling in that blank again and again – and going for a ride.

But instead, I remember all the kind and encouraging messages y’all have sent me these past 30 weeks (30!) that make this world feel a little bit simpler. And I think of how this email list keeps growing (thank you Pinterest??) despite how many typos and half-baked thoughts I’ve left in your inboxes. And how if nothing else, the process of writing these emails invites me back, week after week, to sit and study my life and the moments of mercy that fill it. How the Lord keeps showing up, on these pages, through these keys, revealing His goodness and glory through thoughts invoked and words strung together in my heart. If I wrote to no one but me it’d still be worth it. A weekly mediation. A practice of prayer. 

I guess my point is gratitude – as shouldn’t it always be – for perspective, for moments of reflection, for words on a page, for the Word became flesh. 

And for each of you for being here with me. I promise I’ll have a more substantive post next week. This is just a whole lot of the real me on one page. Thank you for your grace.

Bon Appetit! 

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