What's Saving My Life This Summer

The shoes, the journals, the books, and the hope

Aug 01, 2024

Hi Soul Minimalist!

In her memoir, Leaving Church, author Barbara Brown Taylor tells the story of being a guest speaker at an event. It was an invitation from Baptist pastor turned Episcopal priest, John Claypool, who gave her a simple directive: Tell us what’s saving your life right now.

It’s easy to make a list of what’s killing us—most of us are used to listing our grievances without much effort. What a wonderful way to redeem the day by asking instead what’s saving your life. So many of us have carried this question forward. Typically I’ll do these quarterly “What’s Saving My Life” lists on the podcast but since we’re taking a break from new episodes this summer, it seemed right to bring the list to Substack. So here’s what’s saving mine.

1. The Books.

Reading is always saving our life in one way or another. Here are the books I’ve finished so far this summer:

Somewhere (Thoughts on Love) by Anne Lamott
Tom Lake by Ann Patchett
Fully Alive by Elizabeth Oldfield
A Year of Nothing by Emma Gannon
10x is Easier Than 2x by Dan Sullivan and Benjamin Hardy
The Many Lives of Mama Love by Lara Love Hardin
Annie B. Jones new book (coming next year!) it has a title but I’m not sure it’s shareable yet?!

And here are some I’m reading now:

The First Advent in Palestine by Kelley Nikondeha
Rest by Alex Soojung-Kim Pang
Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer

2. The Journals.

I use three journals every morning and it takes me less than 10 minutes total: One Line A Day, The Next Right Thing Guided Journal, and a regular lined journal where I keep track of thoughts, worries, prayers, poems, and the like. I may write a line or a page in that one, but it never takes long because I don’t linger there.

This morning ritual is one I’ve hung onto this summer even when it seems like I’ve nothing to say. Just the act of engaging in the same daily practice is good for me. It’s not about what I write down, it’s more about the rhythm of showing up on the regular.

3. The Shoes.

I don’t know what to tell you except that we are in our pillow sandals era and we are not mad about it. These are from Amazon1 but of course I’m sure you could find them many places. They have every color and I also ordered the black ones which, so far, seem stiffer than the white ones? (These are technically “beige” but they look white in real life.) We’ll see if the black ones loosen up over time.

A July sunset from the deck of our house in the foothills of North Carolina.

4. Listening to the sunsets.

When we watch a sunset (or sunrise or anything, really) we aren’t just watching we’re also listening. I’ve actively tried to put myself in the path of as many sunsets and sunrises as possible this summer. The light is a physical reminder of the prayer I’m always praying these days. The natural, created world is always speaking in the same way that God is always speaking. If that’s true, then I agree with Brennan Manning who said “If God is speaking, nothing else matters but listening.”

5. Serendipity.

Our lives have grown a bit small this summer, some by choice, some by circumstance. But there have been a few moments over the last few months that have been kind reminders to me that though I am small, I am also seen. Not by everyone, but by enough.

Me with (from left) Stella, Amanda, and Shannan.

Like this moment in Blowing Rock a few weeks ago when Shannan was visiting and Stella, my daughter who lives nearby in the mountains, met us for ice cream. As we crossed the street towards the park, we nearly ran right into author and friend Amanda Held Opelt. What a gift! We chatted on the street corner and took a fast selfie together to mark the glad moment.

6. Making plans.

Related to the above, we don’t see a lot of people on a regular basis right now so making plans is a lifeline. From planning a weekend with a friend in advance to saying yes last minute when another friend texted and invited for family dinner of grilled cheese and tomato soup, making mostly small plans has saved my life more than once.

7. Five weeks off Instagram.

I still love it there. But I also don’t love it. You understand. Deleting the app for five weeks saved a lot of things: my time, attention, heart rate, and brain power in general. Mostly it was a gift to remember how small a role Instagram plays in my actual life.

These are Pons Avarcas that I’ve had for years, well-worn and well-loved.

8. Somatic coaching.

I started seeing a somatic coach in February, one month before my book released. It was also a time when we were (and still are, honestly) navigating a difficult and confusing diagnosis with a loved one. And so my body and I, we needed to be on the same team. I found a trained somatic coach who has been helping me to integrate my inside with my outside and I’m finding new ways to support myself.

9. The Pranamat.

“The kids” got me this for Mother’s Day and I’ve waited to share about it because I wanted to be sure I liked it. There are many acupressure/massage mats available but this is the one I have. I thought it would help to loosen up my shoulders where I hold all my troubles and, boy howdy, does it. You’re supposed to lay on it for about 20 minutes and I’ve discovered if I can journey through approximately 5-6 minutes of discomfort, I will then be able to enjoy the final 15 minutes of blissful relief.

10. Watching for hope.

When I read something that brings even a hint of a tear or a twinge of emotion, I try to pay attention and sometimes write it down. Mostly this summer, it’s anything to do with hope. Like this:

I read this one in *Somehow* by Anne Lamott but she was quoting Arundhati Roy.

“Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing.” —Arundhati Roy

All of us are going through something at any given moment. If not personally, then just turn your eyes to the collective. We are always in need of presence: a gentle word, a supportive hand, a listening ear, a belly laugh, a solid embrace.

All of these are embodied. All of these, a step toward hope. These words from St. Teresa of Ávila come to mind often:

Christ has no body but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which He looks
Compassion on this world,
Yours are the feet with which He walks to do good,
Yours are the hands, with which He blesses all the world.
Christ has no body now on earth but yours.

May we be quick to extend a word, a hand, an ear, a laugh; and may we be humble to receive them from others.

Here’s to naming the things that are saving our lives. I’m curious what’s saving yours?

epf