97. Pure magic
Beauty, seasons of life, politics
I’m back at my favorite cafe. It’s the last weekend before grad school resumes, and I don’t have grading to do. Sitting here feels like a luxury. I brought a book and my journal and have no plans except to write this (and send it — if you’re reading this, I was successful).
Yesterday, we took a quick trip to Xiao Liu Qiu, a nearby island accessible via ferry. We used to go semi-regularly but haven’t been back since the pandemic. It seemed a little excessive to go away even for the day after just having returned from winter break, but our recent travels reminded me of how much I love adventures big or small, and how lucky we are that we have the time, energy, and means to go. That hasn’t always been true, nor will it necessarily be true in the future. So we seized the day.
Scootering around the tiny island was just as exhilarating as we all remembered. We spotted many sea turtles (adorable even though they are actually quite gigantic), ate a ton of sushi, and basked in the sunshine. Bliss.
Over winter break, we spent almost two weeks in the UAE and Oman. It was a dream of a vacation. We were there to visit a family we’ve been friends with forever. They took us out for fancy brunches (including maybe the best meal of my life: a massive Turkish breakfast), let us hold their babies, and showed us the various sides of UAE, from deserts to souks to fancy malls.
I had forgotten how life-giving it is to visit a new place, that sense of glorious overwhelm when all of your senses are zinging electric. If I close my eyes, I can still see the deep blue of the sky against the gray and beige of the rocky outcroppings looming over Old Muscat.
Here are a few photos:
What I’m reading
Ancillary Sword by Ann Leckie, the sequel to Ancillary Justice, recommended by my friend D when I crowdsourced for fantasy/sci-fi recs. He sold it as having an interesting narrator, which is the biggest understatement. It’s my first foray into the space opera genre and, while I was admittedly lost for the first few chapters, I’ve been really into it.
I started listening to Parable of the Sower by Octavia E. Butler. So far it’s brutal but excellent.
I’m also reading Frankenstein (for the umpteenth time) for class. My friend B and I had a minor debate about whether or not Victor is sympathetic — I say no, he says yes — and it reminded me again of how much I love that literature is in the eye of the beholder. Frankenstein felt a little stale when I taught it last year, but this year I feel a renewed excitement for the story.
In Contemporary Lit, we read and discussed Charles Yu’s “Standard Loneliness Package." It’s about a world where pain can be outsourced. Rich food for thought.
On deck: A Memory Called Empire by Arkady Martine, which I am going to be reading with one of my oldest reader-friends, J.
Here’s a roundup of favorite books I read in 2023.
What I’m thinking about
In reading up before the Taiwan election, I realized I have shed some — not all — of the anxiety that had built up during my years teaching Government (which, incidentally, perfectly coincided with Trump’s presidency). After dropping the class, I actually went on an unplanned media fast that has lasted years. I stopped reading the news excessively, stopped engaging in political conversations. The only guilt I felt about doing this was feeling like I may have been letting students down.
Even now, I have one-on-one conversations with students about current events, but I inevitably steer any larger discussions away from politics towards a more social justice-focused conversation or, more frequently, more oblique discussions about literature and, specifically, poetry as means of processing and coping with issues too large for a human body to bear.
I have been meeting with a nurse-coach lately, and one of the things we have been talking about is how my enneagram-3-ness muddles my understanding of my own motivations. Sometimes I worry I feel pressure to speak up (or post publicly!) about an issue just to assure “people” that I am thinking about these things. But what I really want is to model engagement to my students (and children), and ensure that they feel like they can process with me. Still figuring out how to do this in a non-performative way and without burning out again.
What I’m learning
I’ve always known that there are seasons in life, but now that I’m slowly clambering out of my years-long homebody tendencies, I’m feeling it.
I think related to my desire for more connectedness (my 2024 word) is just a general renewal of energy.
For years, I have been just as happy to go nowhere as to go somewhere. This has been true on a smaller scale (perfectly content to stay home and watch Succession by myself instead of going out with friends), but also on a larger scale — eh, let’s just stay home for vacation instead of trying to travel somewhere new.
But I feel something shifting. It could be being in that stage of parenthood where my kids feel like fellow travelers instead of hangers-on. It could be that my new job doesn’t require as much take-home work anymore. It could be a little restlessness as we approach ten years in Taiwan.
Whatever it is, I’m feeling energized and starting to add new places to my bucket list again (Slovenia, Columbia, and — more realistically in the near-ish future — Japan again).
I’m actually going to Indonesia later this week for a librarian conference. I know — I am so lucky. I feel it!
What I’m digging
I downgraded my Kindle from an Oasis to a Paperwhite and haven’t looked back. I use mine without a case and it’s so light. I love that the newest version has USB-C charging (along with my phone — finally!).
This tiny, tiny flashlight (that also has USB-C charging). It’s plenty bright, but I especially love its lowest setting, perfect for situations like reading in the car. I kept it permanently attached to my bag while we were traveling.
Kaohsiung friends — not sure if I shared a pin to my favorite coffee shop yet. Get the Cubano sandwich or the toast.
Until next week,
Kate