The Paradox Paper #27
Are we sure January 2023 existed? Was it a conspiracy? New Year’s Day feels simultaneously like five years and five minutes ago. More importantly, will I ever stop going on about the passage of time? Probably not. It keeps happening like this!
Welcome to The Paradox Paper, a monthly newsletter that honors paradox in the every day. If a friend forwarded you this email, click here to subscribe:
In this edition:
An old show we’re delighted to rediscover
An engaging audiobook series that’ll keep you guessing
An incredible tool I hope you never need
A few words about metaphorical hangnails
A prayer for living what’s already true
Dirty Jobs
I don’t think Trevor Cochrane would disagree with me when I tell you that Mike Rowe might be the most charming man alive. Who can sing an opera in the belly of an old water tower? Mike Rowe. Who can quote Keates in the fish-stuffed hull of a cod boat? Mike Rowe. Who can turn bovine insemination into educational and uplifting entertainment? Mike Rowe. A few weeks back Trevor showed me an old YouTube clip of Dirty Jobs and it was revealed that he’d never seen a full episode. Thus we stumbled onto our next joint show. We watch an episode most nights before bed and it’s been just the low key fun we need. We’re watching on Discovery+.
Red Rising series
When we moved into our house it appeared that three rooms had wallpaper:
Happily it all peeled off with relative ease. And then we discovered that our bedroom was also wallpapered, with a few layers of paint on top. It did not, to no one’s shock, peel off easily. Fortunately, I had this fascinating audiobook trilogy to get me through the 40+ hour process. The story begins when tragedy propels a young miner to go under cover as an elite warlord to overthrow the unjust governing system of his day. These books have the rebellious flavor of The Hunger Games with the political intrigue of Game of Thrones, set in a Star Wars-esque world where humanity inhabits the whole galaxy. The story constantly zigged when I thought it would zag, the characters grew as the story progressed, and I regularly laughed out loud and shed real tears.
Wallpaper steamer
God forbid you should have to remove wallpaper that’s been painted over. BUT IF YOU DO, this steamer will be the best $65 you ever spend. This one little tool turned what would have been a weeks-long, nearly impossible job into a one week endeavor with measurable progress each day. Highly recommend.
This is a hangnail season. Do you know what I mean? The broad sweep of life is golden and lovely and I’m so grateful. We’re not living through amputation-level pain right now. But living on planet earth means there’s always something. Some little niggly something. Like the burn of allergies in the eyes. A tiny invisible crack between over dry knuckles. The hangnails of life. A few of mine include:
A beautiful home where, to some degree, every room feels unfinished and unhomey.
Every light bulb in the house conspiring to blow out at the same time, and did you know LED light bulbs cost approximately $37 and one lock of your firstborn’s hair per bulb?
Speaking of parenting, I’m annoyed. Like, why doesn’t everyone just do what I say all the time? Wouldn’t that make life so much easier? For me? My own comfort is the main concern here, obviously.
Where is my favorite coffee mug? I haven’t seen it in two weeks and I’m tired of lukewarm coffee.
Writing is hard. Why is writing so hard? How can it be my favorite thing to do and my most avoided task at the same time?
When one of these or any number of other concerns starts digging in hard on my last nerve, I do what people usually do with hangnails. I pick, chew, and generally engage in whatever coping mechanisms are least helpful.
Eventually, usually when my thumb is bloodied and my heart is anxious, I’m forced to stop and acknowledge the emptiness of my efforts. An hour spent shopping for furniture I can’t yet afford did not make me feel more prepared for a later purchase. Attempts to control my children’s behavior did not make dinner time more enjoyable. Scrolling for thirty minutes in the dark did not feel like refreshing time to myself.
Amidst the futility of all these tiny annoyances, I’ve begun repeating a new sentence to myself: “ ________ won’t save you.” I say it whenever I catch myself leaning toward the next useless “solution.”
A new outfit won’t save you from comparison.
A fully furnished, freshly renovated home won’t save you from want.
The future, more independent versions of your children won’t save you from the frustration of motherhood.
Avoiding good work now won’t save you from greater effort later.
No amount of planning, organization, or tweaking will save you from sometimes feeling like your life is running away without you.
Only One can settled and satisfy me. Let this season of hangnails help me believe it.
It is a true joy to write for you each month, and I always love to hear about anything you tried and loved or anything that resonated with you. Simply reply to this email or leave a comment to let me know.
Until next time, hold the paradox, don’t panic. Love you.
-Steph
If you enjoyed this edition of The Paradox Paper, consider sharing it!
You can forward this email or screenshot your favorite part for easy sharing on Instagram. (Remember to tag me @stephaniehcochrane so that I can say thanks!)