Small comforts
A note, not an essay this week
Dear Readers,
My goal each week is to share an essay with you, but it’s one I can’t meet this week. The last two have been dominated by headache, which means dominated by canceled or forgotten plans, unwanted afternoon naps, too much attention paid to both the alarming things happening in the United States and the lack of alarm in our responses to them.
I have been in need of small comforts this week. If you, too, are in need of some (aren’t we all, at some point—more often than we probably admit to ourselves?), I thought I’d share some of mine.
Deb Perelman’s Perfect Blueberry Muffins
I made these because I had leftover blueberries and I’d recently checked out from the library Perelman’s Smitten Kitchen Everyday: Triumphant and Unfussy New Favorites. (If I can, I like to check cookbooks out from the library before committing to them.) This one has been out since 2017, so it’s not new in the world but it is new to me. I don’t know if they are perfect, but they were really good. There is also a recipe (not online) for chicken marsala meatballs with egg noodles that tasted just like something my mom used to make, which was the most comforting comfort food of all.
Remarkably Bright Creatures (audiobook) by Shelby Van Pelt
I don’t know how I would manage recovery from TBI + life with migraine if I didn’t have audiobooks. This one is set in a fictional bayside town somewhere in the stretch of Puget Sound/Salish Sea between Seattle and Bellingham. In other words, for me, home. It’s got cozy mystery vibes, but it’s not a mystery (though there is a mystery in it). It’s about loss and love and friendship and family and figuring out how to be a grown-up at every age. You like all the characters; they all have redeeming qualities. It’s heartwarming, and you know at every point that it’s going to have a happy ending (except for the parts that have to be sad because life is sometimes sad but it’s the good kind of sad), which is OK because you don’t know exactly how the characters are going to get to it. It’s the reading equivalent of comfort food, and if you know of any other books that hit this sweet spot, I’d love to know what they are. (Please drop me a note in the comments.)
Walking
This is a book I haven’t listened to yet, but I’m going to because: 1. I love Antonia’s writing on Substack; and 2. Walking is another thing helping me get through my recovery with some semblance of good mental health. (Oh, and 3: It was available through my library so it’s currently on my virtual shelf.)
I tried to return to my skating class nearly two weeks ago, which marked the beginning of this challenging run. I made it through 2/3 of the Monday morning class, but by that evening I was in the beginning of a headache that didn’t clear for 6 days. I really, really miss skating. (I know it tried to kill me, but I still love it.) Walking, though, I can do, and this week we had some sunny weather, and I can see the beginnings of buds on trees and shrubs, and the very first little flowers have begun blooming.
Honestly, that’s about it, and I need to get off screens again because that seems to be the most reliable way to keep headache away. I miss writing even more than I miss skating. I miss reading and interacting with writers online. (I’ve done it some, but not as much as I want to, especially since last Wednesday or so.) As I went to close some of my million tabs before sitting down this morning to write this, I re-encountered a piece that’s also brought me comfort: an excerpt from Annie Liontas’s Sex with a Brain Injury that appeared on The Rumpus.
It reminded me that I am one of the lucky ones because I’ve been “met with unconditional love and people who still come around.” AND, I’m not in a place where I have to figure out how to keep working while my brain is screaming for rest. It reminded me of this:
“Your injury, you would give it back, of course you would. But now you understand something others don’t: something about life, how it requires, in Woolf ’s words, a language that is “more primitive, more sensual, more obscene.” (Brutal, she wrote in an earlier draft instead of primitive, and sometimes, you think, yes, brutal.) You will marvel at all that you still do not know, and all that you do not know you do not know, but you will also see beauty you too often ignored.”
If my thoughts spark some of your own, please share them in the comments. I like to think of these writings as an invitation to a conversation. This week I’m especially interested in any recommendations you might have for non-screen diversions.
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Hi Rita - I'm not sure when I, too, realized that cookbooks could be checked out of the library as a trial before purchase but it was such a joyful realization! I enjoy taking art books out as well, you know, the coffee table sized ones... Thanks for the recommendation for Remarkably Bright Creatures, sounds like my kind of book.
I'm so sorry about your headaches, my friend. I added the book about walking to my TBR.
I've felt unmotivated lately too. You're not alone. Sending you love.