There is No Remedy for Being Human

Just love the little things.

Hello Beautifuls,

I am humbled and thrilled by the community gathering here, at each new subscriber and each person who’s been with me along the way.

Many of you are new here, having read my piece on

Sober App Substack

yesterday. Welcome! What you’ll find here is a little different than that piece. I don’t often talk about being sober here. I do talk about love, how challenging it is to be human, and how I believe we mostly need love and connection like we need food and water.

I hope you like it over here.

Even when I’m not sharing stories about self-destructive tendencies, my most fervent dream is to write things that feel impossible for me to hold on my own, in the hopes that whatever I say finds its way to someone else who needs to hear it.

The art of writing, I am coming to learn, is not to be good or perfect, but to be true — to ourselves and to the stories that need to be told.

You, lovely reader, are the one who makes this whole thing work. So thank you. The deepest places in my soul are grateful to you.

🌈Like every other social platform, Hello Beautifuls will get put in front of more people if you ❤️ this post (or share or restack it). I’d be grateful if you do.

Photo by Gilberto Olimpio on Unsplash

Full in three days, the moon is squashed on top and leaning to the left as I walk along the concrete path in its light. It is still dark and she will set behind the scrubby trees in another hour, but for now, we are out here, alone together.

I go early on purpose. Less people are driving to and from, less tires scraping and whirring against the stillness. I walk and imagine the silence of nature without humans. I do not hear any coyotes this morning; the grackles and doves, cardinals and finches, are still sleeping; but a lone bullfrog sings in the pond as the moon ticks along on her endless westward course.

When I am halfway around the pond, a large truck pulls up and a man and a dog get out, the man carrying a lit flashlight. He swings it back and forth, a scope reading the territory of the little park, interrupting the quiet, outshining the moonlight.

The path we're on is hard, flat, smooth. There is nothing to trip on or to navigate. Why do so many humans feel a need to own a place just because they're in it?

I can no longer imagine the silence with the screaming of the flashlight, and I head for home, wondering if his dog would have rather walked by moonlight too.

This piece feels a little sad, and that is, I suppose, because I was a little sad at being interrupted this morning in my communing with the moon.

I kept trying to make something happier for you, but then I realized, it’s not always all pretty, this mess of being human. I don’t always have an answer and sometimes I’m tired. It’s been a full month since I left for California, I realized this, not because of the calendar, but because of the shape of the moon that I wrote about above. How has a whole month gone by?

I’m trying to ignore the news. It’s hard.

I’m trying to ignore the stock market crash. It’s hard.

I’m trying to ignore daylight savings. It’s hard.

I’m trying to ignore some very big things. Which reminded me of my Letter from Love on Sunday. The entirety of which was devoted to paying attention to the little things.

And so, as the Universe does, I am reminded that I do have something not-sad to share with you today. My attention span is tired, and I’m guessing yours is too, so I’m going to offer you the just the highlights of my LFL.

Dear Love, what would you have me know about appreciating the little things?

You are magic, you are grace, you are light. Can you sit with the idea that you are magic? That your very being here is magic, that your essence is magic?

If you are looking for the big thing, the thing that is somehow going to make everything better or different or okay, we'd like to remind you that there is no remedy for being human, other than to pay attention to the little things, to love the little things.

We love you,

Love

I would be grateful if you❤️on this post (or share or restack or comment on it). Substack is no different than other algorithm-based sites and liking this post helps others discover Hello Beautifuls.

I am also always so excited to see a comment come in. To know that something I said resonated enough to elicit a response. It’s hard to explain what a huge gift that is. ✨So if you feel moved to say anything, please do. I will always respond.✨

And because this is fun and amazing, I want to share this artist with you. Phoebe Capelle is a sculptor who uses wool felt as her medium. Just so we’re clear: The photo below is of a felted wool owl. Not an actual owl. So much wow.

Image and owl © Phoebe Capelle.

Image and sculpture © Phoebe Capelle.

I have a thing for hares. This one is named Anemone. Sigh.

I’m going to go meditate now and sit with the idea that I am magic. Maybe I’ll imagine I am Anemone, off for an adventure with the owl.

With so much love,

j

xo