The Un-blogged Tree
Exercising eye contact
Newsletter #18: May 2024
Hello, friends! It’s been a while since my last newsletter. I wish I could say that I’ve been wanting to write one for a few months now. But, really, I haven’t been wanting to; I’ve been feeling the need to. I’ve felt that need because, as a full time freelancer, it feels like I must constantly put myself out there in order to remain “relevant.” While this pressure is partially internal, it is also external. I’ve essentially been told by colleagues that, if we do not stay in editors’ inboxes each week, they will forget about us. I’m sure that you have felt a similar pressure even if you are working a salaried job or not working at all. There is something in the air of our modern, digitized society that tells us we must constantly remain “on” (and online); we must always stay connected; if we don’t share something on the internet, it’s almost as if it didn’t happen.
That being said, I haven’t wanted to put a newsletter out because, frankly, I didn’t have anything I needed to broadcast. I’ve had some amazing (and difficult) offline conversations with friends, family, and colleagues over the past few months about the war, existentialism, ego, and the state of the journalism industry. I haven’t yet figured out how to package my thoughts on those topics into a blog-able form. But/and, just because those conversations happened offline does not mean that they haven’t made an impact. If a tree falls in a forest, and no one posts about it, the tree has still fallen (and has affected ecosystems in its wake, etc.).
One of many consequences of our digital existence is that, by constantly posting about our lives on social media, we feel that we are adequately keeping up with one another. No need to ask about your vacation when I feel like I’ve lived it (via your Instagram stories) right along with you… right? That said, over the years I’ve (embarrassingly) gotten frustrated when a friend didn’t catch something I posted online and, because they didn’t see it, I was forced to recount what I had said/done again. When I post online, I admittedly sometimes think: great, I’ve shared it, no need to speak about this further. That was the whole point of my Sweet Somethings video: I wanted to tell millions of people about my hearing loss at once, and then never discuss it again.
Sharing that video was brave in some ways, but cowardly in others. Conversations are undoubtedly harder to have in person. We can’t edit or revise. People might not respond to us the way we’d like them to. We have to make eye contact! Vulnerability is hard; that’s why it feels better to do it once (in an Instagram post) than over and over again. But, if we don’t exercise our muscles, we never get stronger. I realized how figuratively out of shape I was recently when a friend who had not seen Sweet Somethings asked me to explain what it was about. I was uncomfortable with addressing the topic, and my friend saw that. She suggested that we get up from the dinner table and walk so that I wouldn’t have to make eye contact while I explained. It was still hard, but made easier by her patience and support.
I say all of this to say that, like a lot of you, I am learning to trust that a small online presence should have no bearing on a full, offline life. I have to trust that, even if I don’t stay in their inboxes, editors will still remember me and want to work with me. And that, even if we haven’t stayed in touch on social media, friends still want to know what’s happening in my life. I may not be publishing these newsletters as often as I did before, but I still want to connect in other ways.
I will be in New York this upcoming weekend, from May 31 until June 3, for Photoville. If you are in town, please come say hi. My banner is in Brooklyn Bridge Park — #12 on the map. Admittedly, I'm already pretty overwhelmed at the thought of so much socializing. Even so, I am looking forward to connecting offline.
I will make another newsletter at some point. I don’t know when! While the original goal was to put them out quarterly, I have an adjusted aim of publishing them whenever inspiration strikes. It depends what, if anything, I want/need to say.
Since my last newsletter, I worked on some of these articles:
— “Living with memory loss, working to fend off dementia” for The Washington Post
— “Book tour: At home with Lisa Scottoline” for The Washington Post
— “The Dish on Love” and “Survival of the Tastiest” for Secret Menu
— “The Most Decorated Battleship in U.S. History Gets an Overdue Face-Lift” for The New York Times
— “Can Philadelphia Fix One of the Most Drug-Plagued Neighborhoods in the Country?” for The New York Times
I’ve also been enjoying…
These tv shows and movies:
Monica (Hulu)
All Of Us Strangers (Hulu)
The Jinx, Part 2 (Max)
Hacks (Max)
These albums:
Auto-Pain by Deeper
Diamond Jubilee by Cindy Lee
These books:
Prodigal Summer by Barbara Kingsolver
The Book of X by Sarah Rose Etter
Tom Lake by Ann Patchett
Minor Detail by Adania Shibil
Slouching Towards Bethlehem by Joan Didion
These dopamine boosts:
Writing down one thing I enjoyed about each week on a slip of paper (I then put each slip into a glass jar and, during the last week of the year, I’ll read them all)
Volunteering with Big Brothers Big Sisters and Operation In My Backyard
The strawberry rhubarb ice cream from Milk Jawn
Weekly yoga in my local community garden
So, until next time… whenever that may be!