Today, I’m republishing an essay from a year ago. Its sentiment occurs to me often — a foothold when I need one. I reached for it heavily when we lost our Tilly in February and it felt that our house would never be the same. I still catch myself hearing her paws or the jangle of her collar every now and then, and I realize, with a sinking heart, that I am casting after her ghost. I sit with that acute loss for a minute, and then I remind myself that I am never empty-pocketed. That I have her memory, and the promise of a future dog, and that life will continue to replenish me.
****
For years, I have avoided Hanya Yanagihara because what little I know about her award-winning novel, A Little Life, is distressing enough to disquiet me from afar. I don’t think I could handle it. My sister, who knows my triggers and worries well, has insisted it is not for me, and I take her word for it. That said, I have encountered pieces of the writing from this book here and there, and I marvel over her work, even decontextualized. I have had this Hanya Yanagihara quote saved in a journal for awhile:
“Things get broken, and sometimes they get repaired, and in most cases, you realize that no matter what gets damaged, life rearranges itself to compensate for your loss, sometimes wonderfully.”
The language here releases me in twenty different directions. First, I think of loss and the way life slowly “takes root around the perimeter,” rearranging itself around new contours and dips and sinkholes. Areas that used to be packed sturdy now run tender but we learn how to accommodate those soft spots, or we feel newly grateful for terra firma. People come out of the woodwork, new doors open, we see the corners of our worlds in fresh — sometimes painfully fresh — ways.
I have experienced this rearrangement so many times, and not even for life’s heavier moments. Sometimes I am caught up in a trivial stress and I step outside and find myself newly happy for the simplicity of suburban life, as though the cardinals and bunnies and dew are apology notes.
I felt that way, too, in New York City. Our good friends (longtime Manhattanites) insisted when we moved there that “New York always makes it up to you.” I didn’t know what they meant until I realized that for every instance of missed subway stops, disgusting city detritus, “no more tables available,” stranger-making-an-uncomfortable-scene, fussy lines and long waits, there were also “the pinch mes”: 85th street blanketed in snow, Jackie O. in the spring, the way you almost can’t believe the shock of the cityscape against a night sky, the bald drama of it all. The way the staff at Barney Greengrass make you feel like you’re doing something wrong while ordering, and you never know where to stand there or what the protocols for lox and accoutrements are, but you’re still part of it, and it feels magical and slightly staged, as if the entire city is an elaborate performance of itself, and you are — against all odds — among the cast. New York bustles, and sometimes it is a grind and other times you move with its electricity, as though an extension of its tentacle.
Anyhow, these are fibrous examples, but I read those words from Yanagihara and I see a kind of philosophy of life that has played out so frequently in my own: the way life bends and bounces back, resilient.
The way we lose so much as we live — opportunities, friendships, loved ones, rhythms, places — but we are never empty-pocketed. Life continues to replenish us. Sometimes not with what we think we want or need, but I tend to believe that often these compensations are unexpectedly wonderful.
Post-Scripts.
+It’s just that–!! (Life is so short!)
+What does happiness look like?
Shopping Break.
This post may contain affiliate links. If you make a purchase through the links below, I may receive compensation.
+This featherweight cashmere polo (one of my favorite silhouettes ever) is in my cart in both the cheerful red and the elegant ink navy.
+Guys, I’m not even a heel girl anymore but I really think I need these boots. They are divine; they are perfect. Probably more practical to go with VB’s lower-heeled, similar option but…the proportions of the first are just beyond ideal.
+I’ve gotten so, so much wear out of this white denim skirt this summer. (See me in it here and here, for example.) Eyeing this brown denim skirt as a transition to fall option.
+My husband, who buys essentially nothing for himself (only splurges: cookbooks and high quality ingredients), sent me a text with a link to this new coffee machine from Fellow. (Tagline: “Pour-over quality coffee with the press of a button.”) He loves to hand-grind his beans and follow his elaborate and perfect pourover process, but we are also pragmatics and often brew our daily cups from the Moccamaster (which we love, too). Still, ever the coffee perfectionist, he’s eyeing this machine. I have to buy it for him, right?! Has anyone gotten their hands on one?
+Chic look-for-less blazer option for fall. Reminds me of this Veronica Beard, but under $200. I like the idea of pairing with high-waisted, dark wash denim and those booties I shared earlier. (Drool.)
+My daughter would flip over these sherpa clogs.
+These juice glasses are so charming. Love the ones with the cherry motif!
+I used this face mask over the weekend and was reminded of how insanely good it is. Really feels like you’re freezing your face — in the best way — and your skin is instantly refreshed, recharged. Clarins does not mess around. Their products work so well.
+If you’re looking for a great gift for a new mama, these oversized quilted Pehr pouches are it. They hold SO MUCH, come in the cutest prints, and are the perfect thing to switch between diaper bags with all the real, real essentials (a few diapers, a slim pack of wipes, pacifier, a few food pouches, etc.). I’m also a big fan of this brand’s fabric soft-sided bins. We have them for various smaller sets of toys (perfect for your daughter’s Maileg set, Barbie clothes, etc) and I also like to use them as the gift basket for a new mama to be and filled with some of my favorite essentials. I wrap the entire thing in cello with a big satin ribbon for a sweet presentation.
+This coat is a dream. Also available in a variation with a scarf detail. Epic!
+These floral rainboots for your little love!
I haven’t read A Little Life, and don’t plan to. I sometimes feel guilty about opting out of reading or watching content that is highly regarded but might upset me. (For me, anything post-apocalyptic is a no-go these days, ever since having kids). But life is short and there is so much good stuff out there, way more than I could ever consume, and that encourages me choose things I actually want to read or watch. I usually alternate between nonfiction related to my work or literature with a good thriller or rom-com to keep reading fun.
On a related note, in the last year I’ve tried to fill some gaps in the literary canon that I never got to in school. It’s been interesting to try to assess how to think about things that are obviously well-written, but I didn’t especially like or resonated with me. I recently read “For Whom the Bell Tolls” and I think Hemingway’s focus on masculinity in the context of war just doesn’t feel like it has much to do with me particularly. But I’m glad I gave Hemingway another try, and again, there are so many other great books out there.
Hi Mia! This is something I talk about all the time with my girlfriends. So many of us feel a sense of guilt, or shame, about not reading more literary titles, especially when we have these conversations with parents and with men! There is this subtext that all “good” or “legitimate” reading must be difficult, and psychologically burdensome, and…but, why? I have felt and examined this acutely having wanted to enter academia, and having shaped part of my identity around appreciating “the canon.” I have come around to the view that there are many reasons to read. Sometimes I do crave something that will challenge me — I probably have the emotional bandwidth to handle about 4-6 of those a year. But I love to read, and sometimes crave an escape, or a distraction, or just something fun for myself, and I read a lot of thrillers, beach reads, romances these days. I am still working on not denigrating the titles, and my tastes! It helps when you have friends on the same page though.
xx
Have you seen the Talbot’s new fall offering? A ribbon trimmed blazer in darkest navy. It’s under $200 and currently on sale. It looks to be a nice cut and double breasted.
The quote you wrote about today will stay with me. It is true. The disappointments and traumas of life leave behind such painful voids. I remember the first trip to the grocery store after my husband died. I felt like an alien, looking at all the people, wondering if they somehow knew what happened to me. This feeling “other” went on for a while. but, inevitably life does go on, Things began to rearrange, and often without noticing, days went by when I forgot that I was alien. Things do change. You hesitate to call the change good, but it is different and it feels ok. As time passes, years, you realize that there are so many good things that have happened. And more pain. And more good. You’ve really made me think today.
Oh Marsha – the way you described going to the grocery store, and the “alien” feeling, moved me so profoundly. I completely relate to that sentiment, to the feeling of — “does everyone see that my world has turned upside down?” Thanks for writing about this.
xx
Hi Jen,
I’m looking for a bag for Italy in September. Ideally something crossbody for daytime and a top handle/clutch option for evening. I would rather not take two bags. Something not too small but could fit in my travel tote. I’m planning a color palette of black and ivory with pops of red. Thank you!
Hi Kim! I will look into this and answer in an upcoming Ask Magpie! Sounds like a fabulous trip!
xx
Jen, Beautiful writing as always! It doesn’t relate to this post, but I came across a powerful quote this week that has stayed with me. ‘Someone is having a harder day than you’. I thought I’d share for anyone else needing to be reminded of this. The perspective helps me to plow through and count my lucky stars.
Amen to this – sometimes I really need to hoist myself out of my micro-worries with this kind of thinking!
xx
Hanya was my boss’s boss while I was interning at Traveler—a meticulous, inventive figure (i recall an astonishingly intricate story-map of the Amazon, some of which would make its way into her first novel). She did not cut corners. Anyways, re A Little Life—read the first third, if not the rest, which is as agonizing and gruesome as has been mentioned. The first third is young New York magic.
Wow – so cool to have this insider’s view of her! Thank you for sharing. She seems to me absolutely brilliant and that’s without having read the book.
xx
That book is hunting and, while beautiful in some ways, bordering on misery porn in others. Definitely not a must read. Beyond that, I loved your reflection today. It rings very true and is a reality that I think we don’t often recognize, especially in the day to day of busy life. I have never liked the oft-used saying, “Everything happens for a reason”, have felt it to be lazy and almost callous. But the part that feels accurate is that often unwanted things happen and shake up our world, and the way it resettles is not what we expected but it may be wonderful in its own way. Emptiness can be filled in more than one way and that is a comfort.
So many great insights here, and I can completely empathize with your reaction to “Everything happens for a reason.” It does often feel shrugging, callous when other people say it. I like this view — that life may not unfold as planned but that it does continue to unfold and sometimes in unexpectedly wonderful ways. Thank you for sharing these thoughts.
xx
Okay I’m new here- but I read A Little Life and felt compelled to comment. Hanya Yanagihara is a genius and writes so beautifully – that being said about one third of the way in it definitely got rough for me and I was a bit traumatized after finishing. I’m not questioning her genius but it’s not for everyone!
Thank you for the quality content- I enjoy checking in here!
So glad you’re enjoying Magpie, Priscilla! Also, based on your comment and that of a few others, will continue to avoid A Little Life! Don’t need that!
xx
Ugh, A Little Life…the best worst book, or maybe the worst best book? To quote one reviewer, “To begin to read A Little Life means that soon you will ask again why we read at all.” So yea, I think you can skip it!
Yikes! Precisely my fear!!