This post may contain affiliate links. If you make a purchase through the links below, I may receive compensation.
I was just over at Nordstrom and noticed they are running a fantastic winter sale with great designer buys, including my new Celine sunglasses, which are no longer on sale in pink, but are available in a chic ivory hue.
I was moved last week when I came across an Instagram post on what not to say to someone who has delivered a premature baby. It opened my heart. I saved it to return to if a friend delivers prematurely. Mainly, it reminded me that we just don’t talk enough about this stuff. Pregnancy and childbirth — in all their permutations — are so normalized, and the outcome so beautiful (a perfect miracle of a baby!), that we often overlook its intensity. This morning, I’m republishing a post from two years ago reflecting on the differences between my two birth experiences, and proposing that a big part of recovering is finding the bandwidth to let yourself feel everything. If you are a mother about to give birth, or recovering from childbirth, or grieving a childbirth that did not go as planned, or simply trying to make heads and tails of it in any way, creating space for you to feel it all right here today.
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A few posts back, I was writing about motherhood, and how I occasionally find it so demanding that I ask, “Is it this hard for everyone? Or is it just me?” I harbor the same questions when I think about my first c-section. It was technically “an emergency c” because my water broke early the morning I was scheduled to go in, and so they expedited the operation, but there was nothing dramatic about it — all went smoothly, straight-forwardly, with no hitches or problems. At least this was what I was told. “Everything went great!” “You’re healing wonderfully!” “Textbook!” And yet I’d found the entire situation so stressful and inhumane that I did not want to be alone for the first few weeks afterward, as I was afraid to sit by myself with its memory. I had convulsed so violently — from shock? from medication? — that I had seemed to be levitating off the operating table and was therefore not able to hold my baby after she was born. The minutes ticked by in painful agony. I wept the entire time. Tears dripped right down my cheeks into my mouth and off my chin. I could not wipe them clean as my arms has been placed outstretched on the table and I was too scared — perhaps too paralyzed — to move them. I felt alien from myself, barred from my own body. I cried and cried in the weeks aftermath, as I slowly processed the enormity of it. I soaked my husband’s shirts with tears. I did not heal from that childbirth, emotionally, until I delivered my second child, also by c-section. That second birthing experience released me: I emerged triumphant. I remember beaming into the camera in the recovery room, clutching my baby to myself, feeling wild surges of ecstasy and happiness. “We did it, we did it!” I remember saying to Mr. Magpie. Not only because our second, and our last, was safely in my arms, but because I had made my way from the deepest chasm of fear surrounding the births of our children to the apex of joy.
I have thought about this a lot over the past few years because — how did it happen? I think it has to do with my mindset by the time my son was born. Not only was a better prepared, emotionally, for the experience, but I also knew I’d endured it and had eventually made my way back to center. I trusted myself to complete the same lap twice. I reasoned that even if my experience of it was as terrible as the first had been, I could grit my teeth with a little more conviction. This, too, will pass. I was also better able to advocate for myself and my needs. I talked at length with the doctors about the medications I wished to avoid, my fear of the terrible shakes, my desire to hold my baby right after he was born, and they listened and delivered. But, I think, most importantly: in the two years between my children’s births, I was able to sit with all of the mixed emotions of the first birth and let them breathe. After initially avoiding eye contact with all forms of memory from my daughter’s delivery, I faced them by talking them out with my sister, my husband, my mother, other wonderful women. They listened and gently reminded me that even though “everything had gone great!”, it was OK to feel upset about the experience. I even laid down one afternoon in the weeks leading up to my son’s birth and tried to think through the entire experience as crisply as I could: this happened, then this happened, then this happened. I believed that if I could look that morning dead in the eye, I could escape from its gripping fear. I devised new strategies to lean on, including a plan of repeating the words: “Focus on me, not on the storm” instead of attempting to recite the Hail Mary, as I was wont to do. The Hail Mary is lovely but a bit long in the tail when you are hanging on every second. Or rather, when, each second trudges by in leaden shoes.
I recently came across a quote from an American Buddhist, Pema Chodron, in which she wrote:
“The healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen: room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy.”
This, I think, is the chiming answer to not only why I was able to have a more positive experience with my second birth, but also to so many of my questions of heart: find room for it all. Stretch out your heart. Don’t be economical in the face of its wild, unencumberable movements. Imagine you are pouring from the center, not the rim. You are a thundering waterfall, not a trickle-trackle stream. Many things can be true at once and it is not your job, when you are healing, to figure out anything but how to make space for it all, so nothing creeps out sideways, skinny-like.
Today, I want to run a bit of a retraction. I wish I’d not asked “Is it harder for me?” because I think this might put us in the damning straits of comparison, but rather: “How can I make space for it all?” How can I permit myself to feel twenty-seven ways about motherhood without the standard predicate of guilt? Let’s take as a given that we are all doing our very best, and, as a Magpie pointed out, that motherhood will take as much as we have to give, whether we have one child or seven. It’s OK to feel wildly overwhelmed. It’s OK to be absurdly gleeful while watching your son eat. (Truly, what is it about watching my children eat that offers such deep satisfaction?). It’s OK to repair things after you’ve misspoken or raised your voice. It’s OK to weep over the little drawings your daughter left on your desk. Motherhood asks for it all, so might as well open up my heart as wide as possible and pour from the center.
If you want more Magpie, you can subscribe to my Magpie Email Digest for a weekly roundup of top essays, musings, conversations, and finds.
Shopping Break.
This post may contain affiliate links. If you make a purchase through the links below, I may receive compensation.
+Lake is running a sale starting today (it might open up at 10 a.m?) — I’ve heard it will include Relax sets (!) and kimono sets, which have steadily become some of my absolute favorite possessions. I own several colors/patterns in each of those styles. They are exactly what I want to put on when I am not feeling well / am particularly tired / want to “crawl into bed.” The material is so soft and springy and delightful. I need more Lake Pajamas like a hole in my head but I did pick up this “bundle” — great for travel (in case it’s hot or cold at destination, you’re prepared for either!) and I love the print.
+Goop’s secret beauty sale also ends tonight — 20% off with code BEAUTYVIP. Don’t miss the microderm exfoliator! I used it over the weekend to wake my face up and get a good base glow before going out to a concert!
+Just ordered a pair of these “booty boost” leggings from Spanx in a fun green color. Had to get the matching half-zip, too! My early spring fitness look.
+These fantastic everyday, every-occasion earrings were restocked! I love mine.
+OK, these are a great pair of jeans from J. Crew Factory. I just got them in last week and the fit is amazing. Run TTS. Strong rec. I wore them twice in the past few days; you can see me in them here! Really comfortable with a great silhouette. (I also ordered these but did not care for the fit as much, FWIW!)
+I know these are spendy but my son LOVES these mesh shorts and I like that they are not super-long.
+This sweatshirt has an actual cult following. They sell out almost immediately after each restock!
+Another GORGEOUS spring wedding guest dress option.
+I’ve mentioned this a few times, but I’m really impressed with this “wrinkle pen.” It does appear to smooth out (or maybe fill) wrinkle lines. I love it!
I saw the sweetest Instagram video this week. A mother handed her four-year-old son her phone and asked him to record her performing a dance, but she had intentionally flipped the camera so that it was actually capturing her son’s face. The way the boy looked at his mom — so full of love, wonder, joy, happiness —
It was life-affirming.
In the photo above, you can see how my son sees my husband — his precious look of awe and trust!
How do my children see me?
I think about this and immediately diagnose the areas that need improvement. Specifically: I wish I spent less time at my desk and more time saying “yes” to them. “Not right now” shouldn’t be the default, and it often is. Sometimes I feel frustrated by the fact that I write in my home; if I were in an office, they wouldn’t have this version of me, the one balancing work with them in high-res realtime. But working from home also means we have more fractional opportunities to connect (fractionality! a theme of this year), and makes my life on the whole easier and more comfortable. Plus, there is the benefit of having them know I am nearby — something that reassured me growing up in a house with a stay-at-home mom.
I give myself better marks on emotional availability. My guess is that when they think of me, they think of me comforting them — at least I hope it’s that and not “mom saying ‘not right now.'” I think I do a good job of listening to them, and holding them, and comforting them. I know I am their soft landing.
But how do I give more of myself to them right now? Is it possible for me to say “yes” to them more often? I am thinking of a conversation I had a few months ago with a mother whose older children are involved in Serious Sports (i.e., travel leagues), and I asked how she managed it. I wondered (to myself, not aloud) whether she ever missed a slow Saturday of rest; whether she ever felt more exhausted after a weekend than before; whether it was worth it? She replied, gently, “I had to learn how to be unselfish with my weekends.” Today, I wonder: am I being selfish with my time? It’s a complicated question and complicated answer.
I am a working woman. I am fulfilled by my writing. And I am a mother. Together, it is a math problem that will never resolve. This past year, we let go of our afternoon caregiver and started to handle carpool and afterschool hours ourselves. It has been a gift. I love to hear them chattering in my backseat, bringing news from their worlds to me. I find myself at my calmest in those moments of reunion, and I feel comfortably maternal helping them out of their uniforms, unpacking their lunchboxes, preparing their snacks at home. And still I feel that it is not enough. Meanwhile, my margins are thinner than ever. When they are home sick for a week, or out of school because of snow, I find it difficult to catch up afterward. I find myself ceding weekend afternoons and occasional nighttimes to my desk, or dropping things. I can’t get it all done. Maybe this is OK. Maybe the right things fall when we shake the trees hard enough, you know? I’m holding all of this fruit but some of it is unfit, or unnecessary, and I need a heavy wind to shake the right ones free.
I was thinking of this last weekend when, on Sunday, I realized I had about two hours of work, wanted to exercise, had errands to do, had laundry to fold, and my daughter was begging me to take her outside to ride her bike. There were not enough hours in the day to get it all done. What was the most important thing? The answer was obvious: Going outside with my daughter. So we did that. And then I went inside and worked at my desk. And the laundry, the exercise, the errands just had to wait. This, of course, is the perennial logisticizing that motherhood requires of us. (When am I not shuffling through a full hand of cards, trying to determine which ones to play, in which order?)
Friends, I have no insights here. No clever ways out. No helpful aphorisms. I am just in it. I think as long as we are constantly asking the question, “What’s the most important thing?” and reaching for grace, we’re doing OK.
Onward!
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This post may contain affiliate links. If you make a purchase through the links below, I may receive compensation.
This post may contain affiliate links. If you make a purchase through the links below, I may receive compensation.
+ONE STREAK IN THE DARK WORLD: I re-read the prologue of Frank Conroy’s memoir, Stop-Time, this week, and in it, he talks about these strange indulgent trips he would take to London while living in the English countryside that always ended with a speeding trip home at three a.m. in his Jaguar. He writes: “The drive home was the point of it all.” What he actually did in London was “an elaborate ritualized introduction to the drive home.” He goes on to explain that he would do “anything at all to keep the speed, to maintain the speed and streak through the dark world.” Every time I read this (and it’s one of those passages that will randomly tiptoe through my mind every few weeks and necessitate a re-read – so I’ve sat with it a lot), I think how the impulse he’s describing is both alien and familiar to me. I, too, find myself seeking the luminous in a world that can feel tenebrous–but not via adrenaline rush. In fact, I’m best able to find one bright color when I am still. But the vision of his meteorite car accelerating through a sleeping, pitch-black world does something to my imagination. Evocative writing. Was there a sentence or passage you read this week that turned on a light for you?
+THE SOFTEST FORM OF LOVE: I was moved this week by a quote I came across: “Someone being patient with you on your bad days is the softest form of love.” What are other “soft forms” of love? Assuming the best of intentions comes to mind. What else?
+SECRET GOOP BEAUTY SALE!: Goop is offering a secret 20% off beauty with code BEAUTYVIP this weekend only. You know I SWEAR by this exfoliator (seriously transforms skin in two minutes — my favorite treatment to apply when I’m in a rush to get ready for an evening out but really need to refresh/turn on the skin) and this Vitamin C is one of my all-time favorite vitamin c products (I alternate between it and and Biossance) and I believe contains the highest concentration of vitamin c you can get on the market. I shared full reviews of all my favorite Goop products here! I am going to try this super nutrient face oil next, and will be using the promo to snag a back-up of the microderm exfoliator! I originally got hooked on the exfoliator because a girlfriend told me “I always have to have a back up for my back up of the exfoliator.” Sold!
+WHAT ARE YOU WATCHING? I can’t wait to watch Season 3 of White Lotus this weekend (!). I also somehow forgot (for years) about the Hulu adaptation of Sally Rooney’s “Conversations with Friends,” and just started it this week. It’s not scratching the same itch as the “Normal People” TV show (absolutely exquisite) but I am reminded why I love Rooney so much. What else are we watching and loving?
+EYEING + BUYING: Is this not the most gorgeous spring dress?! I can imagine styling it so many different ways — with brown leather sandals and a straw tote; with those Loeffler canvas mary janes and a pretty colorful bag; with raffia mules. Also, two recent orders from Amazon: this body oil, which is apparently the secret to French girl skin, and (not seen below) more of these BubblePodz, which my kids LOVE in the bathtub. (Also, the fact that they are in pods means we are less likely to waste half a bottle of bubble bath at each bathttime, which has happened a lot in our house…!)
+MARRIAGE IS…I shared the meme below on Instagram this week and so many of you responded with hilarious comments. This reminded me of the line in my “Marriage Is” piece that says: “marriage is also making gasping noises and grabbing the handle of your door while he is driving.” Ha! (Nothing grinds Mr. Magpie’s gears more.) On a related note, I am completely blown away by the reception of “Marriage Is.” It has been shared almost 20,000 times on Instagram and has sold hundreds of prints. Several of my girlfriends bought as anniversary gifts for their husbands.
+EXTRA 20% OFF VERONICA BEARD SALE: A great time to snag some gorgeous buys at an extra discount. Love this top (under $100 with code) for pairing with trousers or jeans for an elevated “night out” look. And these fair isle joggers were a bestseller a few weeks ago — now on sale! CHIC apres ski.
+BESTSELLERS:The AYR Early Morning tee, by a landslide! These were on sale last weekend, but you can still get them at a 20% discount if you buy two. Trust me, you’ll love them. I know many of us own multiples! A reader described them as #magpiecore. Ha! I was also delighted to see a lot of you ordered the Dorsey Clemence necklace — I wear mine daily, almost always layered with my heart pendant.
After my post on hummingbirds vs. jackhammers earlier this week, I polled my Magpie readers on Instagram to determine which prototype they associated most with. I was surprised to find that 19% of you identify as jackhammers (consumed by a singular, life-long passion) and 81% as hummingbirds (moving from tree to tree).
Wow! We need to tap into the knowledge base here. If you identify as a hummingbird, I’m wondering specifically:
+how have you learned to accommodate change? key tips?
+how do you know when to move from one tree to the next? I imagine intuition plays a strong role here, and perhaps that is the secret of the hummingbird (a fine attunement to instinct). Not to make things too gimmicky, but a hummingbird has a hippocampus roughly 5x the size of other birds, which helps it efficiently understand where to find food. In other words, they have developed, over time, abilities that enable them to thrive in this one aspect of survival: knowing which flowers to visit, and which to skip. Have you developed any systems or strategies for knowing when to move on? What has worked?
+how do you practice openness to new opportunities when it can occasionally feel like you are being held in place by thousands of invisible hands?
Please weigh in via the comments!
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By chance, I happened to also be reading the section of Edith Hamilton’s Mythology this week about Circe, who is often considered “the goddess of change,” less so for her own accommodation of it (although we could talk at length about her incredible strength in this regard) and more because she was known for transforming men into pigs (and, once, a woodpecker). I was thinking later about how many goddesses — in mythology and in my own life — demonstrate remarkable facility with change. Perhaps it is in our nature; our very physiologies depend on cyclicality.
In my favorite Greek myth, the one in which Demeter walks to the ends of the earth to find her daughter, Persephone, the strangling outcome is that their reunion will be intermittent. Persephone will return to the underworld for six months of the year, and Demeter will mourn her absence for the duration. The world blooms when they are together and withers when they are apart. (“She was how she kept time” comes to mind here.) On the surface level, the story of Demeter and Persephone offers a pat explanation for the turn in seasons. On an emotional level, it is a shrine to endurance in the face of change, and maternal commitment against all odds.
By the way, I absolutely love this painting of Demeter mourning Persephone by Evelyn De Morgan (1906). The rich draping and sheen of the robes against the desolate, barren earth, the s curve of her form — echoed by the winding water and contrasted with the rocky peaks, the falling of the red poppies. A lot of movement if you think about it. If you’re looking for a creativity prompt today, complete a close reading of this painting — its formal composition, its mood, its palette, the stories it is telling, the words and feelings it evokes.
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I feel that my roles as mother and writer ask me to continuously remake myself. I am the chrysalid pen; I am the metamorphic mother. I am reminded always of the mother rabbit in The Runaway Bunny, evolving to meet her child wherever he goes.
“If you become a rock on the mountain high above me,” said his mother, “I will become a mountain climber, and I will climb to where you are.”
When I was young, I read the book as a portrait of the constancy of a mother’s love, which it is, of course. But it is also about the way mothers transform themselves as they pass through each new frame of matrescence. Here, too, I think about Cerridwen, the Welsh goddess of transformation, who changes herself into a greyhound, and an otter, and a hawk, and a high-crested black hen, in pursuit of her son. There is no place, no form a child can dream of that his mother won’t figure out how to get to, or adapt herself into becoming. (Wow!)
+It was a week of launches, actually – Hill House also just dropped their spring collection, and I love the lean lines and sweet print on this dress. I also absolutely love their Cosima dress, which I own in two prints. The latest one is very chic. The elongated bodice makes it feel more modern/fresh than some of the styles they are better known for. It’s also easy to layer beneath a cardigan or jacket for a different look.
+Finally, Doen dropped gorgeous spring arrivals and generously invited me to pick one. I chose the Leanne dress in the pretty jardina de la fontaine print! This silhouette is so chic and the pattern gorgeous.
+I’ll be honest – I’ve tried and abandoned many clean/non-aluminum-containing deodorants. I know there is this two week adjustment period in which you must endure swampy pits as your body acclimates, but I cannot stand it! I’ve decided I’m going to give Megababe’s new “skincare deodorant” a try though. It includes unique ingredients that balance pH, kill odor causing bacteria, and absorb moisture. The scents are incredible, too. Apparently these have been very popular, because the santal scent is waitlisted already! Try the coco (still in stock) or peach!
+Margaux is running a fantastic archive sale. Perfect time to pick up a pair of their iconic ballet flats in this gorgeous cornflower blue or versatile silver. Chanel vibes for $129. I also own and adore these ankle wrap leather sandals, but only a few sizes left in the sale color! I find the sizing is very accurate.
+My fave running earbuds are on sale! I’ve written a lot about these, but they are super comfortable, do not fall out of ears, and safer (you can hear ambient noise / footfall / cars). I actually used these while in the dentist’s chair this week so I could still answer his questions but distract myself with an audiobook.
+My daughter turns eight (!) next month and we are having a little pottery painting party to celebrate. She specifically asked for a cat theme, so I picked up the cutest plates and napkins from Meri Meri and this funny banner. For party favors, I typically prefer to give out one bigger item, or a book, in lieu of a goody bag, and she requested Beanie Boos. I bought a bunch of different cat ones and will tie this tag to each!
+Re: the gift tags, I’ve been meaning to say how impressed I am with Minted? Like, I’ve known about it forever and I feel like most of the holiday cards we received are Minted, but I didn’t realize how much stuff they offer! They reached out to me last month and offered to send me some letterpress, so I ordered some for my husband, and then I’ve been finding all sorts of other things to buy there since, including the tags! I wouldn’t have even thought of the tags before. Anyhow, they are offering us 15% off with code JENSHOOP.
By: Jen Shoop
This post may contain affiliate links. If you make a purchase through the links below, I may receive compensation. Seen above: travel day snap from our trip to Colorado last summer.
What do you wear to a theme park?! We aren’t going for a few months but I’m already wondering. I know everyone talks about comfortable footwear (I’m guessing it should be waterproof-ish?) so I’ll definitely be reaching for sneakers or maybe just my favorite broken-in sandals. I’m thinking loose and easy for outfits — boxer shorts with a favorite tee; a featherweight, breathable Doen top with jean shorts; etc. See below for my current vibe.
And a few items I’ve come across for little ones — note that Emory has already requested this t-shirt among the Disney options I presented her with! And I thought she’d flip over the sherpa mouse ears but she’s asked for something simpler, so I’m still hunting…
This post is sponsored by Shopbop and may contain affiliate links. If you make a purchase through the links below, I may receive compensation. Above, wearing this Pistola butter yellow sweater!
I cannot stop thinking about this Zimmermann dress — perfectly romantic and whimsical but I love the demureness / coverage of the midi length and long sleeves. The palette alone…! Three other gorgeous spring statement dresses also on my radar: this pink confection (also Zimmermann), this bustier-style Agua Bendita (my top pick for a romantic anniversary date), and this nearly-sold-out Agua Bendita, which would be so beyond gorgeous for a maternity shoot, Easter affair, spring wedding…!
This post may contain affiliate links. If you make a purchase through the links below, I may receive compensation.
The Olsen twins and their high-end label, The Row, have nailed the quiet luxury look for the past few years. I’ve loved this vibe from afar — I often find myself pinning The Row street style looks and wondering how/if I can pull it off. I typically run a little more tailored and feminine, but I have been taking styling notes nonetheless, and I admire the scaled-back power of each look. I know many of you lean towards this more minimalist aesthetic, so I thought I’d compile a post sharing thoughts on how to get the look for less. (Of course you don’t need to spend $5,000 on a trench coat to nail the vibe.) Start with well-tailored trousers, oversized blazers, and a neutral palette and finish with a “no makeup makeup look” and a middle part.
One item I did order while putting this post together: this SoldOut NYC Everything shirt in the tan color, inspired by the two gals at the bottom of the collage above. I already own it in white and red and it’s absolute perfection. Oversized (a la The Row) with the most gorgeous, high-end fabric and details. It looks like it could be by The Row, I swear! It is intentionally boxy/enormous by design — I took my true size and it runs BIG but that’s the style. (Use code magpie15 for 15% off at SoldOut NYC.)
Anyhow, all my top picks for the “quiet-luxury-a-la-The-Row” aesthetic below:
A little creativity exercise for this mid-week, mid-February day —
and a reminder that you, too, are creative. You, too, are poetic and artistic. Something happens as we grow up in which the impulse to pick up a pen and doodle is trivialized out of us. So take a minute to make space for a little color. We’re meant to use the entire box of crayons we’re given, you know?
Jot down the first few words that spring to mind when you take in each color and its name —
I did this just this morning. A few of my responses:
Tendril — delicate April, all second growth
Cornflower — the heavy hang of late August
Viola — archly drawn and delicately played
Cobblestone — the click clack of things leaving and lost
Willow — slowly, we remembered
I could use any of these to start a new essay, musing, rivulet of creative non-fiction. Feel free to share some of your own improvisational poetry in the comments, or just use to get the creative juices flowing this morning.
+This new Dillard’s collection has so many cute finds for kids – I’m considering this for my son’s Easter outfit, but how sweet is this for your mini me?! La Coqueta vibes for half the price. I’m weeping that my daughter has outgrown the sizing. Also love this swimsuit and this adorable duck stuffie for nursery decor.
+Loeffler Randall’s sale section is worth a visit: saucy peplum top, platform espadrilles for your next warm weather getaway, a pick-me-up scrunchie!
03. How elegant is this collarless wool jacket? I love it in the unexpected military gray. I’d pair with a more casual jean (lighter wash) or ecru to balance out its formality.
04. Skims look for less. I find myself needing more fitted tops with all these barrel, gaucho, wide-leg jean silhouettes!
06. I picked up a few items for my daughter with my latest order! They’ve released a couple of dresses that remind me a lot of Hanna Andersson. First was this one — she loves cats and this is the kind of dress we can both agree on for Mass — and the second was this fun cherry print. I also found this two pack of hoodies, and this two pack of flared leggings. (Does anyone else’s daughter want to EXCLUSIVELY wear flared leggings and hoodies?)
08. Mr. Magpie has really clipped into a fitness regimen this year. He has a lot of pieces from Rhone, but I noticed some simple fitness buys for men there that I’m contemplating adding to his collection since he now goes through his fitness clothes so quickly. This tee looks similar to the ones he has from Beyond Yoga, and these look similar to his Rhone shorts.
09. Have you seen Quince’s sunglasses selection?! So many on-trend / trend-forward shapes for $50 a pop. I like these, these, these.
During our entrepreneurial days, Landon and I used to joke that we were “jack and jill of all trades, and masters of none.” At the time, we envied our friends who had chosen more structured career paths, and had cultivated deep expertise in their fields. By contrast, we felt unimpressively generalist. I kind of understood design, kind of understood sales, kind of understood technology, but I was far from an authority in any of those areas. I am thinking now of a friend who, when asked whether she could help with a technical issue on my site, responded: “Sure. I mean, I know enough to be dangerous.” Ha! Like, I can do something that will either implode your site or catapult you to the next level — we’ll see.
I have so many thoughts on this now. First, I think that many people in their 20s and 30s, especially those who switch or shift career paths a few times, feel this way (“the unimpressive generalist”), and don’t yet see that they are building up a unique register of insights and experiences that will eventually serve them in surprising ways. For example, I am shocked by how much design thinking percolates my approach to my writing, to my business, to even the everyday administration of my life. Product design was a short chapter in my life, but it has touched almost everything that followed. The same is true of writing, of course, although it only occurred to me in the past few years that I could consider myself any kind of specialist, or tradesperson, in it. (It takes a long time to become.) And yet how I think about writing, how I practice it, conditions everything else I do. It startles me that everything — how I experience beauty, how I read, how I make my way through times of irresolution — is rooted in wordplay, and the patience required of drafting and editing, and the specific kind of listening that goes into writing a sharp line.
I also think that entrepreneurs must, as a matter of survival, be “practicing generalists” whether they want to or not. No one else is going to clean the toilets of your restaurant when staff is out sick; no one else is going to figure out that billing issue. You don’t have enough money to pay for a full-time CMO; you’ve got try something on your own.
And, finally, I think there’s merit to Elizabeth Gilbert’s “are you a jackhammer or hummingbird?” question — the notion that some of us are consumed by a singular passion, and others move from tree to tree, trying this and that. No one approach is better than the other. And the most surprising thing of all is that I have thought myself to be a hummingbird for all my life, but it turns out I’ve been jackhammering away at writing the entire time. I suppose that happens when you take a hobby and make it a career.
What about you, friend? Do you consider yourself a jackhammer or a hummingbird? A jill of all trades or a master of one? Has that evolved in your life?
It occurred to me the other day that you can experience “greatness” as a hummingbird or a jackhammer — that you can be great at a specific skill and also great across a career, or a lifetime. I know several people whose jobs have changed over time but who have consistently demonstrated what I would classify as “greatness” — talent, commitment, curiosity, leadership, ambition. I am thinking first of my dad. He is an attorney by trade but it’s not the first thing that comes to mind when I talk about him — it doesn’t define him. He bring intensity and passion to absolutely everything he does, whether it’s woodworking, flyfishing, philanthropy, casual mealtime conversations (my brothers-in-law used to joke that they’d read the WSJ cover to cover before meeting him for lunch). What does it mean to be “great”, after all? And what can we learn from it?
I’m realizing as I write this that I’ve made a lifelong, informal study of greatness. I mean, haven’t we all? Isn’t this the point of reading memoirs by the successful, subscribing to James Clear’s newsletter, tuning into the Olympics, listening to podcasts by experts, watching live performances by the most talented people on earth, studying your boss while she effortlessly runs a high-stakes phone call or your mother while she magically cares for everyone around her without seeming to notice she’s doing anything, all the while leaning forward and asking “how do they do it?” What have you learned from this reconnoitering?
Some of the lessons that have stood out to me:
There are no big breaks. In an interview, comedian Dana Carvey commented that people often ask him “what was your big break?” and he replied: “There was no big break. There were lots of micro-breaks — getting the interview, getting the callback, getting to be in my first skit on SNL, etc.” Don’t mistake the foothills for the mountains, and vice versa. Celebrate every small victory, but never get comfortable. Everything is an audition for the next step, and everything is also “a good break” on its own.
Make everything the most important thing. From actor Mads Mikkelsen: “My approach to what I do in my job — and it might even be the approach to my life — is that everything I do is the most important thing I do. Whether it’s a play or the next film. It is the most important thing. I know it’s not going to be the most important thing, and it might not be close to being the best, but I have to make it the most important thing. That means I will be ambitious with my job and not with my career. There’s a very big difference, because if I’m ambitious with my career, everything I do now is just stepping-stones leading to something — a goal I might never reach, and so everything will be disappointing. But if I make everything important, then eventually it will become a career. Big or small, we don’t know. But at least everything was important.”
When you lose, you learn. Failure is inevitable, but it also enables forward movement. Thomas Edison tested something like a thousand combinations of gas and filament before creating the light bulb. You grow when you’re out of your comfort zone. You improve when you’re running forensics on why something hasn’t worked.
How you do anything is how you do everything. Bourdain talked about “the bathroom test” — if you walk into a restaurant, and its bathroom is not clean, it sends a signal. If you can’t get the small things right, the big things will be impossible to pull off.
Inspiration will not always find you, so you must learn to be disciplined. Move the dirt! Malcolm Gladwell’s 10,000 hour rule applies here (according to research by Anders Ericsson, it takes approximately 10,000 hours of dedicated practice to become an expert in a given field).
The only thing standing between you and your goals is effort. Nothing changes if nothing changes; you are in the driver’s seat.
Get outside. Literally and figuratively! Sometimes the best way out of a creative problem is taking a huge step back, and looking for inspiration elsewhere. Cross-pollination is powerful. And on a literal level, I am thinking of Whitman, who wrote: “Now I see the secret of the making of the best persons, / It is to grow in the open air and to eat and sleep with the earth.”
Share your thoughts below! What have you learned while observing the great?
+I own these wide-leg crops in a brown wash from fall but I think I need them in this ecru. Run TTS but denim is very rigid, FYI. Look for less with these.
+I am loving (!) this top I got from Tuckernuck. (I took a size 0.) I wore to a girls dinner last weekend — she is so dramatic but still wearable. While you’re there, check out this pretty resortwear find.
+My kids are obsessed with these reading lights. They are inexpensive but the battery lasts an eternity, and I love that it promotes bedtime reading!
+I really want to buy a pair of Le Monde Beryls for spring. You may have noticed that almost any time I’m putting together an outfit collage, I feature one of these two styles I’m torn between: these Lunas (look for less here) and these Mary Janes (OMG, the butter yellow…!; look for less here). I think the brown suede of the Luna would be actually a great transitional shoe — imagine with white jeans, spring blouses, etc. Kind of helps blur the season. But the Mary Janes!
+This style from Le Monde Beryl is usually the most difficult to find — they always sell out! — and I love them too but think they’d be less versatile because of the hardware. (You can get the look for less with these.) It depends on what you’re looking for, though. Sometimes a bold shoe just makes the entire outfit. Pair with jeans and a tee and you’re done. Other times you want something you can mold to the statement pieces in your wardrobe that aren’t quite as noisy.
+Chic Toteme pants, on sale! Pair with an oversized knit like this (look for less with this).
+Mr. Magpie is good about reusing baggies, especially for things that leave little residue or crumbs like bread — I found this baggy dispenser to contain them all!
