Dear You,
31 days has January, and it seemed 30 of them were cloudy. In fact, this January was the fourth cloudiest January in recorded history. If you’ve been slogging through winter as I have, teetering on the brink of seasonal affective disorder — or in full blown SAD, it’s no wonder.
On yet another gray-sky day, I’m recruiting help for us. Extraordinary spirit-lifters and frequency-raisers, these two.
I’d like to introduce you to Suleika Jouad and Jon Batiste. (You may know Jon as musical director of The Late Show with Stephen Colbert and the Stay Human band leader, and as five-time Grammy-awarded musician and composer.)
These two bright stars have been lighting up the dark and dreary mornings, helping me out of bleak midwinter’s sluggish mental sludge.
The quiet of this season with its cold and isolating days seems to trigger a propensity in humans for two things: depression and reflection.
Those who know me are aware that I’ve walked through valleys of wrenching and even life-threatening depression. The tipping points for me have been after incomprehensible-to-me losses: of loved ones through premature death, of relationships through breakup or community dispersion, of my own health through debilitating injury or illness.
In the last seven years of living downstate in the Detroit area, though there have been ups and downs related to illness and deaths of loved ones, I have felt very supported and not alone, which has had an enormous impact on my mental health, and especially on how the darker days affect me. But at this time of year, I still pull out my Verilux Happy Light when, after long stretches of Vitamin-D deprived days, my body feels heavy with weariness.
For the first couple of weeks of this new year, I found a sort of comfort in the silence of winter. I crave elements of “hibernation season.” Who couldn’t love cozying up inside with Ruby, my canine companion, under a soft, fuzzy blanket, surrounded by glowing candles and fairy lights, in the company of a good book or show?
In this bare season, I always have to remind myself that we humans ARE NATURE. Along with animals and trees, we will function best if we slow our roll and get in sync with the rhythms of Mother Nature. Brilliant British writer, Katherine May, speaks to this in her comforting book, “Wintering, The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times.” (SUCH a good read this time of year. Click Wintering for info.)
But this week, I’ve found that even with my Happy Light, pot of nourishing homemade soup on the stove, even with the “hygge” environment I have created here, I’m having trouble keeping my spirits up. I’ve done well here and there with a simple practice of sitting down on my living room rug for a morning stretch and a few moments of quiet meditation, cup of hot tea in hand. My journal joins me on the floor and my intention is to have a few moments of reflective, prayerful writing. But these white skies and their dulling effect have settled in my mind. Rather than breathing myself into a state of stillness, thick, heavy thoughts have hovered in my mind, stultifying me.
“Okay then, just get up and get on with your day,” my ADD-ish mind says. “Your To-Do list is awaiting and getting busy will help.” But I know these are escapist distractions for me. If I am to grow, to find depth and more calm in my life, it is imperative for me to dig deeper into the place that rest resides. To be of service to anyone in my life, including myself and Ruby, connecting and finding Presence and the experience of connecting to love is non-negotiable. I can do work and busyness easily. But stopping to connect with my body and uncover some glowing ember in my spirit, that’s a harder endeavor for me.
There are just days I can’t find light on my own. On those days, I’ve learned I have to reach out and let others light my candle with their fire.
Last year, I discovered the wonderful writer, Suleika Jaouad, right here on Substack. Drawn to her Isolation Journals, I dropped in here and there for a read. The intimacy and authenticity of her expression is refreshing. I didn’t discover until November, however, that she is married to Jon Batiste when she announced the release of their inspiring Netflix documentary, American Symphony.
I drank up American Symphony as a life-giving elixir. These two are beacons in what seems a dark time in history. I’m watching them in interviews (YouTube and podcasts,) reading Suleika’s articles and listening to Jon’s music. The blending of their lives is a masterful tapestry, a proliferation of true Art, infused with love, joy and other-worldly wisdom. We are the lucky recipients (blessed if you prefer) of their life-giving, hope-reviving work.
American Symphony began as a film documenting Jon Batiste’s creation of a culturally and musically complex composition. The film, directed by Matthew Heineman, includes the almost supernatural performance of his masterpiece.
His process of crafting this orchestral work was interrupted with an earthquake of sorts in the terrain of Jon and Suleika’s lives when Suleika was diagnosed with recurrent acute myeloid leukemia. Matthew Heineman masterfully folds the story of Suleika and Jon’s nightmarishly gutting experience into the glorious emergence of Jon’s composition, and the result is something to behold.
Suleika and Jon’s deep dedication to living authentically compels them to offer the extraordinary gift of their bared souls in the midst of the greatest of highs and lows. We are granted permission to witness what Suleika describes as “holding the absolutely gutting, heartbreaking, painful things and the beautiful, soulful things in the…palm of one hand.” Which is what they were explicitly forced to do when Jon stood on the stage of the 2022 Grammy’s to receive five awards for his album, We Are, while Suleika simultaneously endured “quiet moments of hollow suffering in the hospital…in utter isolation” after her second bone marrow transplant.
After experiencing American Symphony, I promptly ordered a pre-owned copy of Suleika’s book, “Between Two Kingdoms, a Memoir of a Life Interrupted.” I want to understand how a woman can endure such a grueling, terrifying illness with such grace and strength. I find myself having great admiration for her, and that feels hopeful for a tired soul like me. I’m savoring each word, so inspired by her skillful and dynamic writing.
And so, on these days when the cobwebs of my mind seem to have turned into masses of dustbunnies I can’t seem to sweep away, I am finding help from this beautiful young couple. Their lives are bringing me much-needed joy and light. They are community builders and culture shifters. They are gifts to our 2024 world.
Why we humans sometimes resist opening up our hearts and minds to connect with others is a mystery. Especially when the flame of another bright soul can so powerfully stir our own flickering embers, igniting fires of hope and inspiration. Maybe there is someone in this old world you’d like to connect with who would widen your world, brighten your path and spark new dreams. Maybe you’ve gotten stuck in the rut of rigid work and life demands and opening to a new person or thing seems like it would burden you. Maybe you’ve developed protective walls, survival techniques which, instead of serving to keep you safe, are keeping your life small. Maybe the grief of an overwhelming life passage has crumpled you into a despairing place and there are no creative dreams accessible to you.
Whatever the case, it is my hope that you will press the play button on American Symphony, or click your heart’s “open” switch to a new connection. You might, like I did, find your candle sparked by the joy of a new friend’s light.
I speak often of “Wonderworld,” a place which is sometimes invisible to us right before our eyes. Yes, Wonderworld is that cardinal who sticks around in winter, peeping outside your window, waiting for you to notice him. Wonderworld is the power of phytoncides emitted by trees on that forested trail not far from your house, chemicals that magically still the frenetic anxiety loop hijacking your mind. But Wonderworld is also these Light Beings who seem to change the molecular structure of the air and culture around us. The Jon and Suleikas who inspire us to “be ourselves” a little more bravely. The Rubies who trigger laughter from us on our most beaten down mornings.
The angels among us.
I’ll close with this good, happy tear-inducing news:
I’m at a coffee shop in East Lansing, Michigan at this very moment while Ruby is awaiting me following her four-month ultrasound at the MSU Veterinary Oncology Center. I just received a call from the very kind Dr. Swanson with a good report. Ruby’s liver, pancreas and adrenals look good. Results of the protein electrophoresis test (I think that’s what it’s called) are yet to come, but it looks like her remission from multiple myeloma continues! (wipes eyes.) The threat of her premature departure was indescribably devastating to me. The miracle of her remission pulled me from what felt like an unrelinquishing despair.
Every day I am grateful.
AND, every day I am grateful for YOU, a member of my growing community of readers, my expanding tribe of Wonderworld inhabitants. YOU are a light, even when your embers are covered in ashes. When we come together, we can get our fires going and warm up our hearts and lives. We’re not meant to be separated from one another. We’re meant to be in community, with love and peace keeping us lit.
Thank you for being part of my Wonderworld.
I’d love to hear from you in the comments and appreciate any “hearts” offered below. And please share this post if you’ve enjoyed it.
With love,
Linda
and Ruby.
Linda, I did listen as I had a walk in the woods today, no poles as the snow is finally leaving us.
I was really lovely.
Wonderful humans are among us.