Suddenly, it feels like autumn in New York.
Warm weather is predicted to return this weekend, and I’m sure it will, as the seasons have yet to shift, but the cool weather and gray days have brought a bit of melancholy to my mind and spirit. As much as I enjoy the changing seasons, I’m finding myself feeling sad at the thought of winter, though I know it’s still far away.
August always does this, always arrives heavy with a feeling of endings and evolutions. In August, there’s a kind of pressure I feel to have things figured out, much like when I was a child and wanted to transform myself before returning to school after the summer break. I want to be everything I’ve always dreamed of, right now and altogether, and sometimes in these sad late summer days, I forget that there is no arrival to healing, to existing, to change. We only ever keep unfolding.
In these moments, when I’m lost in my mind, it feels harder to access the pleasure and wonder of the world. This however does not mean the pleasure and wonder are gone from the world, only that my eyes are less awake to it all. “There’s always a sunrise and always a sunset,” wrote Cheryl Strayed in her book ‘Wild,’ “it’s up to you to choose to be there for it.”
The wisdom, she writes, is to “put yourself in the way of beauty.”
This practice, this intentionally noticing and naming the tiny delights and joys, is one way I’m being there for it, to practice putting myself in the way of beauty, to remember that there really is goodness all around when you choose to see it.
This week’s OOH LA LA! list includes: the circles made by falling raindrops, late night fries at the diner, stovetop popcorn.
I was waiting at a crowded bus stop in the rain, smiling as more and more people squeezed in to seek cover. At one point, I even stood on the bench, making more room for folks to fit under the shelter. From that perspective, I watched the heavy raindrops falling, making rippling circles in the puddles on the ground. Seeing the circles reminded me of the cyclical nature of everything - how the rain is really the ocean, how the ocean is in me, how we’re all connected to each other and everything. I’ve never loved a rainy day more.
There’s a diner near me that’s open 24/7. It’s got that classic diner aesthetic, complete with a neon-light sign outside, red leather stools at the bar, multiple televisions tuned to the weather or local channels, and a radio going all at once. My favorite part is the menu, a spiral-bound four-page plastic-coated book complete with photos of the entrees and what feels like endless options. When I stopped in for late-night fries this week, I felt transported to my childhood, the memory of road trips with my family, and the early morning stops to highway-side diners where I ate whip-cream topped pancakes and got to steal sips of my father’s coffee.
My favorite snack right now is stovetop popcorn. I can get about six cups of kernels at the market for $5, and this lasts me a few weeks. From there, the process is super easy - first I add some oil or butter to a pot, set the stove to a low/medium heat, and then add in a couple scoops* of popcorn kernels (*an official cooking measurement). The secret is to set a lid on top, but leave it slightly off at an angle, to allow air to flow, and then, and this is the hardest part: let it be. After a few minutes, the kernels will start popping, and it’s quite a delight to watch and listen to this process! When the kernels have stopped popping, I move the popcorn to a bowl, melt some dairy-free butter, and top it all with a blend of herbs and spices and salts from my pantry. It’s become a fun game to find new mixes to make, and equally wonderful to wake up to leftover popcorn, which I shamelessly snack on during breakfast, though inevitably I will experience the popcorn-in-the-teeth feel all day.
From OLL readers…
Sonia: My latest obsession is sleeping with the windows open. The night air is so yummy while you're sleeping, especially if it's nice and cool and a little windy or rainy. I like the element of trust inherent to sleeping with the windows open, too—it's sort of the antithesis to locking everything up before bed.
Thanks for reading!
I’d love to know - what is an OOH LA LA something you experienced or observed this week?
Reply to this email with a few sentences about your current obsessions, passions, joys, and pleasures, or anything you did to put yourself in the way of beauty.
XOXO,
LJ
“Last night
the rain
spoke to me
slowly, saying,
what joy
to come falling
out of the brisk cloud,
to be happy again
in a new way
on the earth!”
-From Mary Oliver’s poem “Last Night the Rain Spoke to Me”