I am a recovering perfectionist, productivity chaser, and people pleaser, coaching women to disrupt old thought patterns, let go of behaviors that keep them stuck, and make their joy an everyday priority.
🦩 An Ode to Serendipity 🦩
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Guten Tag, Reader, A week ago, I am sitting in the passenger seat of our packed-to-the-roof Subaru Outback and roll down the window to talk to the man whose family's three cars are parked in front of the Forest Service cabin we've rented. Or that he rented, depending on which side of the window you are currently on. Three kids in pajamas roll up on their bicycles, curious to see who's come to visit them in their magical kingdom. The man is now checking the reservation app on his phone, and I am not looking forward to the moment he realizes we are right. And there it is. His eyes widen, and beads of sweat begin forming on his forehead. He asks, "What is today's date?" "It's the 26th." He doesn't say "shit," and whether that's because he doesn't swear on principle or is able to control himself around his kids, I cannot tell. He does say that this is bad, that they have four adults and five kids in their group, including 3-year-old twins, and that he will now go inside to tell his family that he screwed up. "What's going on, Dad?" the boy in the Batman pajamas asks and starts crying as his father explains the situation. "I don't want to leave," he whales. "Neither do I," the man says in this calm, reassuring voice that some parents use with their children, and mine didn't. "But now I have to go inside and talk to Mom and your aunt and uncle." The tone, or the words, seem to work. Little Batman picks up his little mountain bike and follows his father and the other two kids toward the warmly lit cabin. If Brian* – we've introduced ourselves by now – hadn't told us they were from Missoula, too, the race numbers attached to the kids' handlebars would have been a solid clue. I turn over to Derek, and simultaneously we say, "We can't kick them out, can we?" We are unsure what the solution might be, but without cell reception or Wi-Fi and a gravel road hour away from the nearest town, the only way to figure it out is to talk. As we get out of the car to approach the log building, a brightly smiling woman steps onto the back porch. "Derek!" she exclaims and opens her arms. "What a coincidence!" A few hours later, a red-haired kid I'd never met before snuggles up to me on the couch by the wood stove, and Brian has finally stopped apologizing. We are counting the coincidences:
Coincidence? Perhaps. If you believe in them. Serendipity? Certainly. A solid argument for
Most Definitely. Friend, this is one of those letters that will leave you without a, "and this is today's lesson." If there is one for you, great. But you'll have to figure it out yourself. Here is another thing you'll have to figure out: Do you want in on the 2024 Email Advent Calendar?Thanks to everyone who participated in the poll. A surprisingly significant majority wanted daily prompts to reflect on 2024, so this year will be an adaptation of the 2021 Un-Stress December. If you have received a previous email advent calendar, you don't have to do anything. If you aren't sure, let me know, and I will be happy to check and get you in. If you want to in or share with a friend, please head this way: https://letters.mrslaine.com/advent-calendar-2024 Whether I see you in December or not, I will see you back here in two weeks. If you liked this letter, please forward it to a friend. Always on your side, truly, *not their real names p.s. If you got something from today's letter, why not buy me a coffee? I am keeping my writing AI-free, so I put much work into it. You can leave me a tip here. p.p.s.: If you want more of me than a letter every other week, you might enjoy hanging out with me on social media: |
Welcome to my Joy Letters
I am a recovering perfectionist, productivity chaser, and people pleaser, coaching women to disrupt old thought patterns, let go of behaviors that keep them stuck, and make their joy an everyday priority.
Guten Tag, Reader, One of us walks like a cartoon thief—knee high, toe first, then heel. Of course, he might also practice a Qi Gong movement. Called The Heron, perhaps? Another walks with a sway while swinging a flappy spruce branch. “I watched my nephew do this last week,” she will share later, “and he looked so connected with his body that I wanted to try.” Me? I walk as slowly as my brain will allow. Stopping to pull a fresh leaf to my cheek, smell each wild onion in a patch, and caress...
Guten Tag, Reader, “Die hat doch einen Vogel,” they say in Germany, “She has a bird,” when someone talks or acts a little off. As if that’s a bad thing. The bird. Or the off-ness. Not in my book. The one that I am writing in my head. Where the birds live. And where they peep. Peep. Peep. Peep. April also has a bird. "April, April, does what it will," the Germans say. Sometimes, the Germans are specific about the kind of bird—a chickadee (‘ne Meise). And those have been chickad-ing and dee-ing...
My mom accompanied me to Helena on one of my biggest adventures: becoming a US citizen in 2015. Guten Tag, Reader, I knew the words were going to come out of my mother’s mouth eventually. Not in every conversation, but certainly in every conversation about any of my adventures: Going to the island of Corse on a motorcycle with my boyfriend when I was 17 Studying abroad for a year Traveling to any place outside of Western Europe Eating sushi Hiking the Grand Canyon rim-to-rim Rafting the...