Recently I purchased a small book set by Emma Gannon, a self-published collection called A Year of Nothing1 that followed what she calls her burn-out year. She points to a date when it happened —October 22, 2022—and the first thing I did was look back in my photos to see what I was doing on that day.
Is this something everyone does when they learn of a pivotal moment in someone else’s life?
Do you rummage back through the memories of your own life to see what you were doing on the precise date when someone else was experiencing a life-changing conversation, epiphany, heartbreak, final realization, loss, or foundational turning-point? Do you wonder about the contours and corners of your own small world while those in someone else’s fell apart or came alive in parallel time? Do you think about how you may have been either watering the plants or having a come-apart moment of your own?
What was I doing in 2008 when Lin Manuel-Miranda read Chernow’s biography of Alexander Hamilton while on vacation? Where was I when John F. Kennedy Jr. boarded that plane to fly his wife and sister-in-law to Martha’s Vineyard for that wedding in 1999? Who was I with when Harry and Meghan met for the first time in London on July 3, 2016?
You might say this is egocentric of me and you would be right. Still, one of the ways we relate with one another is by using our own life as a starting point, a plumb line, a you are here dot on the mall map. No matter our social location, life experience, family background, or vocation, one thing we all share in common is time.
So what were you doing this very week one year ago?
As for me, I was hitting publish on my first post here on Substack and today I’m glad to celebrate that, to mark this one year anniversary.
On that day I had zero subscribers. Now, one year later, I want to extend a heartfelt thank you for being here.
11,863 of you receive these posts in your inbox
1,841 of you pay me to write here (insert tears and thank you cards and confetti)
254 of you receive scholarships that I’m glad to give and that our Founding Members help to make possible
You have answered a question I’ve been asking for some time, which was this: how can I continue to host The Next Right Thing podcast without ads? The answer? Because of paying subscribers here!
You make writing enjoyable and meaningful with your comments and thoughtful insight and relating.
You provide a path for me to write weekly in a sustainable way without burning myself all the way out.
So I wanted to tell you this: thank you for being here.
Over the last year one thing I hear from you is that you appreciate the questions I ask. They help you to reflect on your life and to think about things from a different perspective.
So I’ve looked back over the 48 posts I’ve published here on The Soul Minimalist so far and pulled one question from every month.
Here are 12 formational questions we’ve asked here this year that I hope will help you to navigate your inner life with more clarity, nuance, and insight.
JULY
“How can we lay the groundwork so that the dominoes cascade* in the direction of hope? So that when the moment of decision arrives, our inner posture is turned toward the good and beautiful, even in the middle of hot, chaotic, foggy-minded July?”
—What If I Told You I’m A Mastermind?, *From Mastermind by Taylor Swift
AUGUST
“What feels like rest from your work in this current season of life? What is something you can engage in with others that everyone would enjoy? What are some restful ways to simply be together?”
SEPTEMBER
“What are some unconventional spiritual practices that re-orient you when you return home from a trip? How do you re-engage your life as a soul minimalist?”
OCTOBER
“What’s saving your life right now? What does the unconventional spiritual practice of naming what’s saving your life do for you?”
NOVEMBER
“What in my life fits well? What parts of my life no longer fit? What might I be growing into? What do I long for? What do I miss?”
DECEMBER
“We know that church isn’t a building just like a home isn’t a house. But are we allowed to miss the building too? Are we allowed to grieve the place where we sang our songs together? Are we allowed to long for the rooms where we said our prayers and repeated the liturgies? Are we allowed to confess that we loved the building, too? The one we served in, helped to clean and paint and pay for?”
JANUARY
“Is there an image you have found particularly meaningful this year? One you would like to explore more?”
FEBRUARY
“What are a few things you can pre-decide not to make a big deal about?”
MARCH
“When was the last time you felt most like yourself? What were you doing and who were you with?”
APRIL
“When was the last time an experience hushed you on the inside? When do you notice yourself avoiding silence on the outside?”
MAY
“What do you do when the things you used to practice to remember God was near have led you down an unfamiliar spiritual road?”
JUNE
“Do you have shows, movies, or art-forms you revisit in order to process your own life?”
Last year when I hit publish on that first post, I felt far from ready. But I continue to learn that starting before I feel ready is (and has always been) one of my better instincts.
I hope The Soul Minimalist helps to offer simpler, more accessible ways to practice your faith in your actual life. I hope the unconventional spiritual practices we explore here are helping to support your soulful decision-making (without pressure, guilt, or eye rolls). I hope you continue to read and engage and show up here with me.
Here’s to more years ahead!
epf
P.S. Our next live for paid subscribers will be in August and this time we’re going to do it on Zoom so I can see your faces, too! I’m going to step it up and try something new for our live gathering. Instead of a Q+A I want to offer a mini-workshop.
I have a few ideas of things I would like to teach/dive into with you but let me know in the comments if there is a particular something you would like to go deeper into together! I’ll let you know the exact date and time when we get closer.
These small books nearly fit in the palm of my hand and I have thoroughly enjoyed reading her story about her year of nothing that followed her own burn-out.
This is the only Substack I pay to read. And this beautiful overview of a year's worth of soul work is exactly why.
Emily, thanks (and love from Cape Cod!)
ox
Today I upgraded to “paid subscriber.” I am completely new to anything Substack, so I will be figuring things out. Your work has blessed my discernment, and therefore my life, in profound ways. I am grateful for you, epf!