The More Loving One

I've been slowly making my way through the most fascinating book called Daily Rituals: How Artists Work. Have you heard of it? The author chose 161 inspired and inspiring people from human history–writers, scientists, composers, poets, inventors–and did meticulous research on the habits that surrounded their work and gave structure (or lack of structure) to their days. Interesting, right?

As you might expect these creatively brilliant people were mostly quite odd, and many of them followed their routines with a manic sort of discipline. The Danish philosopher Kierkegaard would fill his coffee cup to the brim with sugar, pour acid-strong coffee over it and drink it in one energetic gulp. Thomas Wolfe wrote his novels naked, standing up, using the top of his fridge as his desk. Gustav Mahler dragged his wife Alma on 3-or-4-hour walks every afternoon, often stopping to compose for an hour or two at a time while he insisted she wait for him. Gertrude Stein usually wrote no more than 30 minutes a day and often got her creativity flowing by staring at individual cows and rocks (!) in the French countryside.

Along the way I've been doing a lot of Googling because I find myself wanting to know more about the actual work these people did. I'm familiar with the composers he's written about and a lot of the writers but the psychologists and poets are a little less known to me. In my side research the other day I discovered this poem by W.H. Auden. It's called The More Loving One.

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well

That, for all they care, I can go to hell

But on earth indifference is the least

We have to dread from man or beast

How should we like it were stars to burn

With a passion for us, we could not return?

If equal affection cannot be,

Let the more loving one be me.

Admirer as I think I am

Of stars that do not give a damn,

I cannot, now I see them, say

I missed one terribly all day.

Were all stars to disappear or die,

I should learn to look at an empty sky

And feel its total dark sublime,

Though this might take me a little time.

I love this poem. It's simple but so emotionally honest. If equal affection cannot be, let the more loving one be me. How beautifully self-sacrificial to prefer the giving end of unrequited love, to have heartbreak rather than cause it.

Anyway, I highly recommend the book. It's gotten me thinking about my own habits as a creative person. Mostly though, it's sort of like peeking into someone's window which is something I find endlessly intriguing. We've talked about my nosiness before, right?

Painting by Emily Jeffords

Life These Days, And Hello Again!

This poor Something Ivory has gotten a bit of neglect these last few weeks but today is Friday! (I always feel inspired on Fridays.) And I wanted to check in and post a little update.

First of all, though I never thought I'd be one of the many writers/bloggers to ever say this, I think that Instagram has begun to replace my blogging in some ways. I almost always spend more time crafting the caption than taking the photo and I see it as a chance to tell a little story. When we were abroad our friend Jim asked midway through the trip if I'd blogged yet. I answered no, I hadn't, but that I'd started to think of each of my Instagram photos/captions as a mini blog post. Not everyone uses Instagram like this but I love trying to thoughtfully share real glimpses of my life this way.

Even though I haven't been blogging I've still been writing privately. To be frank, there is something in this season of my life that I'm struggling with deeply and that is too personal to blog about (for me, anyway). But there are many days where I wake up and can't imagine writing about anything else. So I write privately.

In better, kinder news, my life as a business owner/freelance artist/teacher/musician has taken off! I now have close to 15 students in my private studio. I've developed friendships and partnerships with several other young professional musicians and I can tell you, few things are more fun than playing music with your friends. And then gabbing about life over lunch. The best.

A few months ago I was asked to take on the role as vice president of the Charlottesville Music Teacher's Association which made every introverted muscle in my body tense up. I took a day to think about it, then gulped and said yes and it is now my job to plan each of our group's monthly programs for the whole year. We're going to Skype with an expert on performance anxiety, I've invited a soprano and a pianist from UVA to perform some German art songs for us and one of our own members will run a discussion on studio policies and practices. (Among many other things!) This has been enormously fun for me and a huge honor. And time-consuming! More writing emails and less writing blog posts. :)

This time in my life–personally and professionally and inwardly and outwardly–is one of change and growth. It's one where I feel quite proud of myself at times and at other times feel completely raw and vulnerable. Sometimes I'm confident and other times I doubt myself. I have made several incredible, close friends here in the last year. I'm learning how to do adult female friendship well and I'm so thankful for this gift. I feel fulfilled by my musical life and so sure that I'm in the right line of work. I also have realized that we are very much not in control and that we must take every blessing and every hardship alike to God. My prayer life has deepened necessarily.

I suppose what I'm trying to say is that life these days is both harder than ever and more beautiful than ever. Is it possible that both could be true? I'm learning that yes, I think so. There's a rare sort of beauty that is found in suffering. And everything else, it's made lovelier by comparison. Glory be to God for this not-so-small miracle.

What Is Resolution Without Dissonance

What is resolution without dissonance?

This is something I talk to my students about all the time. Music is filled with dissonance—tension, clashes, disharmony. And it is filled with consonance—resolution, release, sounds that are right and pleasing and natural. 

I talk to them about how a passage or a harmony filled with tension, though on its own not always particularly pleasant, is transformed into a thing of beauty by the resolution that follows it. And perhaps more importantly, this resolution is made more meaningful, more gratifying, more pure and special because of the tension it arose out of. 

What is resolution without dissonance?

In lessons I'm so focused on conveying musical and artistic ideas to my students that it hadn't ever occurred to me to apply this same philosophy to my own life outside of music. It wasn't until I heard Seymour Bernstein say it in his documentary that it struck me. My brain was able to zoom out and see that this elemental part of music that I've been coaching my students on for years is one I need to be coaching myself on too. When I play music it comes naturally—I gravitate toward those rich, complicated, moody chords, I lean on them before I move away and then I relish the way they resolve into openness and freeing release. 

But as a Christian, as someone whose faith isn't as a strong as I wish it were, as a human with imperfections and dreams disturbed and a desire to trust in God despite how things are going, I need this lesson to become a bigger part of me.

When life is dissonant I want to lean into it, not away from it. I want to feel tension and longing. I want to recognize and accept it. I want the grace to see struggle as something that can lend strength and goodness and character and godliness if only I let it. I want to wait in joyful hope and with peace in my soul for unrest to end and resolution to take over.

Because when resolution does come, it will be so much more beautiful than it ever could be on its own.

What a joyful discovery that is! I'm grateful—always grateful—for the way music continues to teach me the most profound of life's lessons.

Happy weekend to you all!

Married Traditions

Mostly I go to this coffee shop called Shenandoah Joe when I'm in a coffee shop sort of mood. It's my favorite cafe in Charlottesville. I come here to write, to meet friends, and when I just need to get out of the house. It's where I am writing today.

But sometimes I go to this other coffee shop which is a little less funky and a little more buttoned up. Think chairs and tables and laptops instead of vintage sofas and bespectacled customers reading paperbacks. I've gone to this other coffee shop several times in the past few months, both times on a Sunday (once because I was in the area and once because Shenandoah Joe is closed on Sundays). It's a nice, solid backup cafe. 

On the first Sunday there was this sweet middle-aged couple sitting at a table in the middle of the cafe drinking coffee and playing cards. The woman had this completely contented look on her face as she shuffled the deck. She wasn't wearing makeup and he had on an old sweatshirt and I remember thinking they looked so comfortable with each other and so happy to be sharing their Sunday afternoon over coffee and cards. It made me smile. 

The next Sunday I was there, so were they. Drinking coffee and playing their card game at the same table in the center of the cafe. I pointed them out to the friend I was with and said I'd seen them before. It seemed to be their Sunday afternoon ritual.

We gazed over at them for a minute and my newly married friend said that she had been thinking about traditions in marriage and that she'd like to start some with her husband. I said I thought that was a wonderful thing to do. But I added that some of the best traditions my husband and I share aren't the ones we thought out or intentionally planned but the ones that just were, that are. The ones that are a natural byproduct of who we are individually and together.

One of my favorites is our nightly routine. I'm a major early bird and my husband loves to stay up until the wee hours of the morning. If he came to bed with me he'd toss and turn for hours and if I came to bed with him I would become a zombie in a matter of days. Our compromise is that he "puts me to bed," as we call it--ha! Sounds funny but we think it's sweet and special. We will snuggle together and chat about our days in the dark as I get sleepy and he makes sure I have a glass of water and that my phone is charging on my nightstand before he tiptoes out. 

If I had to bet I'd say that the coffee-drinking card-playing couple didn't decide this would be their Sunday afternoon tradition. I bet they did it once or twice and it stuck and now it's as natural and established a part of their week together as Monday night Downton Abbey or Tuesday night tacos.

To me, this naturalness is as beautiful as the tradition itself. It reminds me that in its simplest form, a marriage is a shared life. A life in which you don't have to leave the warm bed to get your own glass of water and are never wanting for a Sunday afternoon card partner.

Books For Spring

Isn't it funny how sometimes you have stacks of books you're dying to read on your nightstand (your figurative or literal one) and other times you can't quite figure out what to pick up next? Suddenly this spring (and it does feel like spring, weather-wise and inspiration-wise and hopefulness-wise) I'm swimming in books and loving it. Here's what's on my (literal) nightstand.

The Opposite of Loneliness was on a recommended reading list for 20-something women in Domino Magazine. I read this short piece of Keegan's in the New York Times and loved her wise, confident writing. I checked her book out of the library and was shocked to discover that this smart young woman died days after her graduation from Yale and that this collection of her writing was published posthumously. Heartbreaking, but how powerful that her words live on.

I pre-ordered Hey Natalie Jean (written by one of my favorite bloggers)  a few months ago and Amazon says it will show up tomorrow. Hooray! Natalie is a deep and witty and lovely writer and I think her story is meaningful and important. Excited to dig into her book when it comes.

My parents sent me this hilarious article on Airbnb in Japan because we decided to use Airbnb for two nights in Tokyo. I loved the writing so much I decided to look up the reporter and discovered she co-authored this book. The book is dark and disturbing but from what I've gathered from reviews, incredibly brave and beautiful too.

My mom recently finished Lila and passed it on to me. I don't know much about it but if my mom liked it, I'm sure I will too. Fact of life.

What's on your reading list this spring? Please share!

(Not pictured: a book on Japan, and another book on Japan, and one more.)

Banning Busy

busy

I'm sure you've heard of the campaign to ban the word "bossy," right? I don't have hugely strong opinions on this movement as I was never called "bossy" as a child and was actually the exact opposite of bossy most of the time. I was the spindly little girl frozen to her mom's leg avoiding eye contact. But that's another story altogether. What I wanted to write about was a different "b" word that I recently declared would henceforth be banned in our home: busy.

I didn't really mean to take a two-week break from writing this blog but it happened because I was preoccupied. Preoccupied with my work, preoccupied with a lovely girls getaway with my mom, preoccupied with trip planning for Japan. I had other things going on that took center stage and I wasn't feeling particularly inspired to write and that's how it happened. I refuse to say that I was too busy. (Cringe.)

You see, I think that the word "busy" has lost its meaning. The truth is that we all have full lives. Even if we're not busy in the traditional sense--taking 5-minute showers and gulping down coffee and eating chopped salads on the go and sprinting from meeting to meeting--we're all busy in our own ways. Perhaps today's calendar isn't full but there are looming pressures or self-imposed deadlines. Maybe an emotional problem is consuming you and your brain is filled with thoughts that tug and don't let go. Maybe your attention is tied up with a big life change and you schedule in deep breaths and prayer in your free time. Maybe you really are running between meetings.

We could all claim busyness and we do, including me. But I'm calling myself out on it. As the daughter of a writer/editor I was taught from a young age that overused words and expressions quickly lose their value, and I for one don't want to be a user of empty meaningless words.

One of the worst things (I think) is when the "busy" card is used to explain away an unanswered text message or email. We live in the age of easy communication--it's never been simpler or more user-friendly to stay in touch, to craft a quick response to a friend or family member who asks a question or writes just to say hello. I can understand being too busy to send a letter in the mail but I refuse to believe that anyone is too busy to send a text! (They don't even require proper punctuation!)

All of this said, I try to be understanding when I am presented with the "b" word which for me mostly happens in my piano studio. A lot of my students are adults with jobs and families and are studying music purely for the joy it brings them, which is a rare and wonderful thing. I feel privileged to have these kinds of students and when they tell me they've been too busy to practice as much as they'd like I tell them it's ok and that we can sightread duets or listen to recordings or talk about music theory or work on scales.

It's not that I don't hold them to high musical standards because I do. But I'm a reasonable person and I recognize that having a two-year old and a husband and a full time job can be demanding. When musical enrichment, not Carnegie Hall, is the goal, I believe it's my job to be kind and to teach something valuable every single lesson, regardless of how much time was spent at the piano during the week. (My younger students don't get off quite so easily but amazingly, all of them do practice without me having to prod them.) (Prod I will if that ever changes.)

So what do you say--will you ban busy with me? If for nothing else than to sharpen our usage of the English language. Say you've been preoccupied! Active! Engrossed in the pleasures and demands of your life!

Anything but busy.

(And please, let's not say any of these things as an excuse for not replying to a text. Everyone has time to at least shoot off an emoji.)

10 Questions

A sweet friend nominated me for a blog award and since I'm super busy getting ready for my trip to New York (while writing this on Wednesday), I thought I would be a rebel and just answer her questions and opt out of coming up with ten new questions of my own. Not exactly the proper format for this kind of post but I'm hoping these answers might be interesting to some of you--I thought she asked great ones--and that no one will hold a grudge against me for not following the rules! Here goes.

1. Do you have a favorite saint, and what drew you to him/her?

I didn't grow up with the tradition of saints but I think there are so many inspiring ones and their stories are amazing. I have a stained glass of St. Cecelia (patron saint of music) in my piano studio, so I suppose I would pick her.

2. I think every Liebster questionnaire includes a question like this; but I'm crazy about books, so I just have to know: do you have a best-loved book that you've read multiple times?  (And will you probably read it again?)  Or do you always just read a book once and pass it on to others?
I have many best-loved books but I'm not really a re-reader. I feel like there's always another book I want to read and never enough time to get to them all! But I do think that I will someday re-read these favorites that made such an impression on me: Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy, Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, and East of Eden by John Steinbeck.

3. What is your family's Christmas Eve tradition?
Growing up, our Christmas Eve tradition was eating fish stew and salad and crusty baguettes for dinner, going to church, then coming home and listening to A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens and A Child's Christmas in Wales by Dylan Thomas (both on audio tape) by candlelight. And eating Christmas cookies, of course.

And my husband and I are still working on our Christmas traditions! Church and good food will always be involved, that's for sure.

4. When you dress up in heels, do you wear panty hose/tights, or do you go bare-legged?
Usually I'd go bare-legged (that sounds so scandalous!). But in the wintertime I love wearing cozy knit tights with tall boots or heels when I get dressed up. 

5. How did you and your husband meet?  (And if you're not married, what's the most important quality you're looking for in a spouse?)
We met my freshman year at Notre Dame. He was a senior and it was my very first weekend of college. I've always felt so blessed that I met my husband at age 18 and that God didn't make me wait long for him.

6. What's your go-to prayer in times of distress?
The Lord's Prayer, or this verse from Exodus: "The Lord will fight for you, you need only to be still."

7. Where is the one place in the world you would visit if you could?
Greece!

8. How many siblings do you have?
Two incredible brothers whom I love very much. And now I also have three amazing sisters-in-law! And also two brothers-in-law. It's so fun that when you get married your family grows.

9. Are you a worrier?  (I'm worried you'll think that's a weird question.)
Yes. Just type "worry" into the search bar on my blog and you'll see proof.

10. What, if any, sport do you enjoy watching the most?
I grew up following Syracuse University basketball but in college it became football. These days I don't watch too many sports (we don't have a TV) but I think my favorite thing to watch is my mama playing tennis!

That was fun! Thanks for letting me share.

Just Some Thoughts

A just because photo....isn't this such a soothing image? All the neutrals and orderliness! / Source

I haven't been feeling inspired to write lately which isn't like me. I think it must have something to do with this strange in-between state we're in. I've got one foot out my front door and the other just dying to join it, but we have another two weeks until we move. It's a weird feeling. There's a new front door waiting for me (and it's red, friends!) and I'm going a bit stir crazy with the anticipation and the fluttery energy inside me.

Our house is looking more and more bare by the day and there's still lots left to do. Closing accounts, making sure our mail is forwarded, getting new military IDs. And of course more fun tasks like last visits to our favorite local German bakery and a goodbye dinner with one of my students and his family. It's hard work closing out a chapter of your life! It keeps you busy for weeks and then you're gone and everything is new again. New address, new grocery store, new doctors, new streets, new walls to wake up between each day.

It sort of hit me yesterday that we really lived here in Alabama. It sounds obvious, I know--but as much as I wanted our time here to be temporary and short-term, the reality is that we built lives here. And while I can assure you I'm not feeling nostalgic about leaving or sad in any way (I'm thrilled and beyond excited), it is a little overwhelming to be starting over so completely. This is the first real move my husband and I have done together and we have a lot of newness to navigate, like, where will we get fabulous chicken red curry takeout when that inevitable craving hits on a Friday night? In addition to all the bigger, more life-altering things too, of course. It'll all be fresh--everything from the sidewalks our sneakers will come to know to the very rhythm of our days.

Anyway, I guess this post is just a simple update on how things are in the Harvey household lately. Lots of giddy eagerness for the future, lots of thoughts on endings and beginnings, and lots of praying for smooth and healthy and happy transitions. Thanks for letting me share it.


(On another note I highly recommend this new Ingrid Michaelson song, Wonderful Unknown, which also features her husband. It's beautiful. Let's let unknowns be wonderful!)

I'm Doing Just Fine

Scene from yesterday: a billowing curtain and fresh April air.

Sometime last week, I was having a bad day. I was discouraged and getting worked up and not feeling super happy. On that same day, my mom sent me this WSJ article called, "Advice For A Happy Life." My bad day and the timing of her email had nothing to do with each other--purely coincidental--and my mom meant nothing other than to send me an article she knew I'd like. But I do remember reading just the title and thinking--ok good, yes, this is what I need to read right now. What am I doing wrong?! Why aren't things going according to plan?! I'm not having a happy time of things right now, and maybe it's my fault. I need this advice!

And then I read the article and realized, I'm doing just fine.

Here are the author's five pieces of very wise advice for leading a happy life:


Consider marrying young.

Learn how to recognize your soul mate.

Eventually stop fretting about fame and fortune.

Take religion seriously.

Watch "Groundhog Day" repeatedly.


Here I was, thinking I was going to get a very welcome spiel on not taking yourself so seriously, focusing on the present and choosing to let tomorrow's worries go, learning how to laugh in the face of difficulties. After all, that's usually how these kinds of articles go and honestly, I would have been all ears had this been the advice. My fears were getting in the way of my happiness that day, and I suppose I wanted some justification that I was unhappy for good reason. I suppose I wanted to be told that if I can only laugh at myself, I'll feel better. I wanted to be told that these thoughts were normal but ten deep breaths would go a long way toward feeling peace. I guess I wanted this article to sympathize with me and then provide a quick fix.

But this article wasn't fluff. It was wise and honest and true. And it provided me with something much more valuable than justification and some flimsy pick-me-ups. It made me realize, I'm doing just fine.

I don't know what my one-year plan looks like, let alone my five-year plan, but I've got a husband and he's going through every step with me and we're going to look back on this time of not knowing and be so glad for the richness and the lessons and the love in these early years of our marriage.

I don't have control over a lot of the things my heart desires, but I've found my soul mate. My heart has found its resting place and even on days it feels heavy, my heart isn't lost. It belongs.

Wondering how successful I will be as a piano teacher and a musician and an artist scares me, and I don't know what my niche in the creative world will be just yet. Thank goodness I never cared about fame and fortune! I was talking with one of my students last week about when we are planning to move, and he told me that things just won't be the same without me. We started his lessons the same month he relocated to Alabama with his family so he's seen me every week for the whole time he's lived here. It was so touching and helped me to remember that if I can influence and inspire even just one young pianist, I'm doing ok.

I have so much to learn about faith and trust and godliness but I am 100% committed to the discovery. And I'm realizing that God teaches us so much through our trials, I need only be open to what He is trying to show me.

I've only seen "Groundhog Day" once, but I've got time on my side.

Proud Sister Moment

Noah Zinsmeister Photography

I'm going to play the part of the proud sister today and first share an article that my younger brother recently wrote and had published. It's called "The Foreign Language Courses Colleges Should Be Teaching" and it's wise and thoughtful and funny and I think you'll really enjoy it. I won't give away the argument he's making--you'll have to click the link to find out!--but I think that most bloggers will be able to relate to it and appreciate the stance he's taken. It's a pretty hip and cutting edge piece and I can't help bragging about it!

Now for the second proud sister moment. My older brother works for Uber, the car service company/tech startup that has been fantastically successful, and he and his team in Dallas recently appeared in Modern Luxury Dallas magazine. He's the one on the far left. Doesn't he look like quite the suave gentleman? I think this is such a cool feature! Once again, I can't help but brag.

I always think that the most wonderful gift parents can give their children is siblings. Thanks, Mom and Dad, for my brothers. They're the best.

Today I'm Going To...

Take a long walk into the fogginess and mist and listen to The Staves playing in my ears.

Wear red lipstick just because.

Bring my computer to a new spot and write.

Read today's daily entry from The Business Of Heaven.

Break a wishbone that's been drying on the windowsill with my husband.


Have an open-faced avocado/mayo/spicy jalapeño sandwich (my favorite thing ever) for lunch.


Thumb through Mastering The Art Of French Cooking, my grandmother's splattered and loved copy that is now mine, and search for a recipe to make this weekend.


Revisit a few pages of Chopin's Polonaise-Fantaisie, which I played for my last Master's Recital.


Finish Bread & Wine.


Dream up a new DIY project to work on this week.


Make myself a cup of afternoon steamed milk.




Have a lovely Tuesday, everyone.

Bittersweet

A few weeks ago, I placed a big order of books on Amazon. I'm definitely a library gal and love getting my books that way, but I'm boycotting one of my local libraries (that's a story for another time--let's just say that several of the women who work there fit the stereotype of the cranky, old librarian and aren't too pleasant to be around) and I didn't think the other library was likely to have the books I was after.

So I hopped on Amazon and a fresh stack of books arrived on my stoop a few days later. Almost immediately I sat down with Bittersweet by Shauna Niequist, devoured the first 100 pages in about 30 minutes, and ended up finishing the book the next day. I think my soul must have been thirsting for the wisdom and the stories and the amazing beauty that is packed into this book. I remember I wasn't really having a great day when the box arrived and I think this book was just what I needed, at that precise moment, to get me out of a funk.

The idea behind Bittersweet is powerful and encouraging. Niequist writes so convincingly about the trying, sorrowful, heartbreaking seasons of life and the ways they can shape us if we let them. That we can't grow and change and become more than we are if life is only easy, pure sweetness, filled with unmitigated happiness and joy. That we need those trials and difficulties and that if we lean into them, instead of fighting them, we will change in remarkable ways and lead better, more godly lives as a result. Life is bittersweet and that's a blessing.

Here is a little snippet from the book. This is how the book ends, with a plea for all of us to share our own lives, the bitter and the sweet and the bittersweet:


This is what I want you to do: tell your story. Don't allow the story of God, the sacred, transforming story of what God does in a human heart to become flat and lifeless. If we choose silence, if we allow the gospel to be told only on Sundays, only in sanctuaries, only by approved and educated professionals, that life-changing story will lose its ability to change lives.

It always goes back to the beginning, no matter how far we've wandered off course. When Christ walked among us, he entrusted the gospel to plain old regular people who were absolutely not religious professionals. If you have been transformed by the grace of God, then you have within you all you need to write your manifesto, your poem, your song, your battle cry, your love letter to a beautiful and broken world.


Among other things, I think these two paragraphs are such a powerful testament to what we do as bloggers. When we sit at our computers and write about the hills and valleys in our lives and what brings us hope on darker days and how we choose to celebrate our greatest joys. We all have different writing styles and levels of comfort with how much we divulge and we certainly all have unique struggles and triumphs. What matters is that we aren't "choosing silence" and that instead, we have this belief to some degree that what each of us have to say is worthy and meaningful.

The way God works in each of us is wonderful. We shouldn't hide the light that gives us daily courage, and neither should we hide the pain that sometimes feels like it will be too much. Both are beautiful, both have God at the center, and both deserve a voice.

Headaches, Glasses, And Honesty

You might think I'm a little bit wimpy when I tell you this, but I've been getting some pretty unpleasant computer headaches due to eye strain. I've been noticing them more and more and a few weeks ago I felt like my head was pounding for about 4 days straight. I spend a lot of time writing and reading on my computer and my eyes were simply not happy about it! In fact, my brother told me that typing black words on a white screen is just about the worst thing for your eyes because of the stark color contrast. Plus, you're concentrating and often staring at a single area, maybe even squinting. If that isn't a recipe for a headache, right?

Once I connected the headaches to the computer I realized that all of the tall cups of water in the world (my usual headache remedy) wouldn't cut it. And I didn't want to just swallow a few Tylenols if I could potentially fix this problem at the source. So I Googled "computer glasses for eye strain" and after doing some research, I ordered an inexpensive pair on Amazon. I guess the more high-tech computer glasses have yellow lenses but I was too vain to spring for those. I want to be able to blog at Panera without being self-conscious or looking like a gaming nerd! Plus, the clear lens pair I bought got great reviews and several people specifically said that their headaches vanished when they started wearing them at the computer.

I've been using them for almost a full week now and I'm glad to report that I haven't had one headache since. I really couldn't explain how it works (the Amazon link has more information), and my skeptic of a husband not so subtly opined that there might be a hint of a placebo effect involved. Even if there is, I really am happy that my eyes and head are feeling like their old selves again! And of course that makes him happy, so placebo or not, these glasses are here to stay.

I have to say that in addition to being pleased with my recent lack of headaches, I'm having fun with these glasses. I was blessed with my Mom's eyes and fantastic vision and I've escaped the eye-doctor visits and contact lenses and prescription glasses my brothers got stuck with. But I've always liked the idea of wearing glasses and I think they're cute (I know--only someone with good vision would say that--I'm sorry!) and I feel sort of "writerly" when I put these on. It's kind of embarrassing to admit that, but tell me I'm not alone? Any other 20/20s out there who tried on their friend's glasses and were envious for just a minute? (I'm really letting you in on my vanity today!)

Anyway, I can't recommend these glasses enough. Headaches are no fun, especially when they take me away from blogging and connecting with all of you. And I feel like I'm doing something good for my eyes when I slip them on. I hate the idea of straining them day in and day out--who knows the damage that could do long term.

(Plus, aren't they kind of cute?! Please humor me.)

This post is not sponsored in any way. Just wanted to share a new discovery and sing the praises of these headache-curing glasses!

I'm A Morning Person, What Are You?

A morning person too? Or a night owl?

Our windowsill capturing the glowy, morning light

I always think this is an interesting topic and maybe I'm wrong, but I think your answer to this question tends to say a lot about who you are.

I am most certainly a morning person. I set my alarm for 6:30 every day (even weekends) and sleeping in always makes me feel a little guilty, like I've shortened my day and wasted the best hours of it, to boot. (Although going back to bed with a cup of tea and a book is just about the greatest guilty pleasure I have.) I love the morning quiet and witnessing light come into the world, watching it change from grey to pink to yellow. The routines of morning are comforting to me. Making tea and grabbing my computer to write, often talking to my mom on the phone, eating a healthy breakfast. Even when my first few waking hours were more hectic--up at 6, out the door by 7 armed with music books, my lunch, a travel mug, and a metro card--I still liked my mornings best. There's such a freshness and energy about the hours before noon.

In college and grad school, I always made a point to do most of my practicing in the early part of the day and was amazed by friends of mine who would stay in the practice rooms until midnight or later. My mind--not to mention my fingers--just weren't up for late-night workouts. And in my opinion, "pulling an all-nighter" (which I've never done) is just about the worst thing anyone could possibly put themselves through. The mere idea of no sleep for 24 hours or more makes me ill. Not only am I a morning person, but I don't do well on little sleep.

It's a good thing I'm not embarrassed to admit that I'm an old soul because, once again, this particular trait of mine pegs me as just that. I'm sure I don't have to tell you that most 25-year-olds are not morning people. And I think most of them are much more fun in the hours after 9 pm than I am, too!

So here's my theory: I think that "night owls," by and large, tend to be energized by interacting with other people and being in an environment that is awake and active, whereas "morning people" seek the quietness of a world that is still a bit sleepy and use this time to recharge.

Is this obvious? Or way off base? Or just a completely boring topic??

I guess this post is stemming from my belief that there's something to be discovered in seemingly mundane human tendencies and preferences--winter or summer? white or red? Apple or PC? milk or dark?--and that we can learn a lot about ourselves by paying attention to even our smallest, simplest quirks and choices.

Psychologist Kate, signing off now.

An Unexpected, Happy Side Effect

Photo courtesy of Betsy's mom and Tina's camera!

When I started my blog, I did it for the writing. I had (and have) ideas swirling around in me and an unusual mix of interests and topics that I couldn't wait to explore and express. I wanted more creativity in my life and wanted to stretch my imagination and stimulate my mind.

This past weekend, my husband and I were talking with my Dad (who is a writer) and he said something really wise. He said that in life and in work you should try to "figure out what you can't not do." My Dad can't not write. He analyzes his world through words and it's such a part of who he is. And more and more, I've realized that he passed his writing gene on to me.

I get so much enjoyment out of writing. I truly love my blog and feel devoted to it. I knew as soon as I started Something Ivory that it would bring me joy and satisfaction and a sense of fulfillment. But you know what I never expected this blog to bring into my life? Good friends.

Over the weekend, I had the pleasure of meeting two blog (turned real-life!) friends, Tina and Betsy. These girls have interesting, sweet, funny, and wise blogs that I have been reading for months now, and it was a lot of fun to meet in person. We explored the gardens at the National Cathedral and then walked a few blocks to an adorable cupcake shop, all the while enjoying a sunny, crisp, blustery D.C. day. 

It makes sense when I think about it. We share our hearts on our blogs, so when you find a blogger you click with it's only natural that you will enjoy each other's company in real life. I imagine it's a little bit like having a pen pal. You communicate through words alone for months and when you get together, you don't feel like strangers meeting for the first time because you've already established a connection through language. 

For me, this has certainly been an unexpected, happy side effect of blogging. Finding kindred spirits, clicking with other writers, and making friends. 

Thanks for such a fun afternoon, Tina and Betsy!

An Oddly Beautiful Fruit

Yesterday, for the first time in my life, I cut open a pomegranate. I can't believe it took me so long! I've had pomegranate seeds plenty of times but until now, I had never retrieved them myself.

And I was really quite taken by how beautiful the inside of a pomegranate is. The seeds are tucked into the fruit in clusters and they're so vibrantly pinkish-vermilion that they almost look like little candies. You can use your fingers to gently loosen them from the skin of the fruit and where they were nestled, a tiny little imprint is left. It's such a strange fruit and I found myself marveling at it as I peeled back the layers and collected the seeds in a bowl. It wasn't nearly as quick as, say, peeling an orange, but it was oddly therapeutic.

All of this reminded me of a lovely article I recently read on pomegranates. It's a celebration of the imperfect, a beautiful reflection on how it is often the scarred and bruised and ugly fruits that produce the sweetest, most divine flavor. I loved the piece when I read it a few days ago and have new appreciation for it now that I've experienced the beauty of a pomegranate firsthand.

In All Things

Image Source

Pied Beauty

By Gerard Manley Hopkins

Glory be to God for dappled things –

   For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;

      For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;

Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;

   Landscape plotted and pieced – fold, fallow, and plough;

      And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;

   Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)

      With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;

He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:

                                Praise him.

My husband and I have been taking an English Literature class together this semester at a local community college. Well actually, he's taking the class, and I got special permission from the professor to audit it. The teacher is really fantastic and it's been a treat to sit in on the lectures and do the readings--and I'm not on the hook for grades or homework! It's just pure learning and brain stimulation for me.

We read some poetry this week by a fascinating man I'd never heard of, Gerard Manley Hopkins, a Jesuit priest who lived and wrote in Victorian England. Many of his poems are a celebration of the natural world and he had a way of seeing God in all things, even in things that most people would say are ugly or strange.

I think this poem, Pied Beauty, is so lovely. Glory be to God for dappled things, it says. Hopkins takes such joy in the unusual and imperfect and it seems that these things, for him, only reinforce the presence of God in the world.

This poem has reminded me to try to be more intentional about seeking God and noticing Him, even when the world around me seems plain or frustrating or unpleasant. Yesterday I stepped outside to take a walk and it immediately started to sprinkle, but I decided to keep walking. I decided to embrace the rain and try to enjoy getting wet and the cool drops on my face, and once I did that, I began to feel the beauty of it all. The sky was gray, the rain made the grass smell musky, and it was a far cry from the perfect afternoon stroll. But perhaps that's just a matter of perspective. The rain was God's rain, it was falling on God's earth, and it was falling on me, and I am nothing if not a child of God. If I decided to look at it this way, wouldn't that make it good?

Who am I to rule that this day, this moment, isn't just a wonderful as the next? For by Him were all things created...all things were created by Him, and for Him. Maybe in wading through dreariness, in soaking it in and embracing it and accepting it, we can find good in it--we can find God in it. Holding it at arm's length is what makes it ugly.

An Environment For Inspiration

Artists Sketching in the White Mountains by Winslow Homer

When you're a creative person, sometimes it can feel like you're at the mercy of inspiration, that elusive river that comes and goes, sometimes raging strong inside of you and shining light on your work, other times trickling away and leaving darkness in its place.

I have felt the ebb and flow of inspiration and it's a mystery to me. One thing I do know is that as an artist, you have to work even when you don't feel that light embrace, that force pushing you along and guiding you. I learned this during my years studying piano--if I'd practiced only when I felt that creative spark and energy, I don't think my recitals would have gone very well.

Our issue of Notre Dame Magazine arrived in the mail yesterday and the cover of the magazine says, "What Inspires Us." I eagerly flipped open to an article entitled, "My Desk Is An Altar." It's a beautiful piece about writing and Christianity, but I was particularly struck by what Heather King wrote about inspiration.


On an ideal day I work for several hours...Every late afternoon or early evening I take an hour-long walk, during which I observe the tops of trees, the shapes of leaves, people's faces. I play the piano for 15 or 20 minutes. I try to say Evening Prayer and do a short examination of conscience. I listen to the birds again.

Within that framework, inspiration flows: perpetually, abundantly, in ever astonishing and ever new ways. Inspiration flows and then I do the packhorse work of writing, shaping, revising.


She treats inspiration as something to be continuously cultivated. She does things each day that stir her and awaken her, and also things that make her calm and contemplative and point her toward Christ. She creates for herself an environment for inspiration, and I love that.

I still do believe that inspiration isn't a given, no matter how many beautiful or thoughtful things we fill our days with. It does come and go no matter how hard we try to capture it. But I'm learning more and more, both through experience and through stories like this one, that we can and must try. Like Heather, taking walks outside breeds creativeness in me. So does making things with my own two hands. Often, cooking makes me feel alive and inspired.

The next time I have a dry spell, I'm going to remember that I must try to find inspiration, must look for it and not give in to the flatness. I'm going to remember Heather's words: So ask, seek, knock. Look out the window. The scales will fall from our eyes...

A Conflict Of The Soul

I read a fantastic article yesterday in First Things, a magazine I love for its serious thought mixed with compassion. The piece is called "No Happy Harmony: Career and Motherhood Will Always Tragically Conflict," and it struck me as the first essay I've read on this "Having It All" debate that was truly wise, appropriately thoughtful, and fully honest.

You see, in this piece, Elizabeth Corey kept the heart at its center.

The article is long and complex, full of interesting things and very much worth reading, but I want to focus on one main point she makes. And this is it: the conflict that modern women face, the conflict between work and children, is not an external conflict. It's not a conflict that can be fixed by our society, a conflict whose solution rests in electing our first female president or making sure 50% of our nation's CEOs are women. Hope for fixing the problem doesn't reside in more flexible offices or in more understanding bosses or in new social policies.

The work and motherhood balance cannot be solved externally because it is an internal conflict. As Corey puts it, it is a "conflict in the soul." She writes, "We cannot come to terms with the difficulties women face in the present day until we consider the way in which we feel the competing inclinations in our own souls."

In all of the pieces and opinions I've read on this same topic, the struggle has never been framed in this way. "There is a solution for everything, they imply; we just haven't found it yet." This is how Sheryl Sandberg writes about work and motherhood, how Anne-Marie Slaughter writes about it, how we mostly read about it. I admire these women for their optimism in believing there is a real cure, a total fix, a tidy answer for women who want both families and careers (even if we haven't found it yet).

But perhaps Corey's realistic but heartfelt approach is the better one. What if we really believed, as Corey does, that "this conflict in the soul does not go away," that society can't fix it for us, and what if we adopted this honest perspective in an effort to make the best decisions we can possibly make in a world that, admittedly, isn't fair?

"Modern women are right to think that both the pursuit of excellence and the desire to care for others are part of a fully flourishing life. Excellence in a particular field requires persistence, self-confidence, drive, courage, and initiative. These are eminently admirable qualities. On the other hand, serving or loving another requires the even more admirable qualities of attention, focus, care, patience, and self-sacrifice. The accent we place on them, and the way we put them into practice, is a matter for all of us to figure out for ourselves."

Facing our hearts to find our answers is the most brave thing we can do. It's so much easier and simpler to decide that our struggle over work and family is a result of the mixed-up society we live in and leave it at that. It's much harder, and takes more strength, to see this struggle as something that exists within us, that it is tied up in the very fabric of our beings, and that only a glimpse into our own souls will guide us to the path that is most right.

Kindred Spirits

I don't think I could have found a more perfect quote for this post today, and from one of my favorite childhood books, too. It's not profound, but it sure does resonate. It couldn't be more true for me.

I think some people find their kindred spirits easily. They have a knack for seeking out people they click with, people who share their values and sensibilities. I've known people like this, and I've always been in awe of their ability to pick friends who truly "get" them, friends who share their most treasured dreams and wishes and hopes.

It's always been harder for me. Of course, I dearly love my friends who are very different than me (which is most of them). There are wonderful things to be learned from people who were raised differently, who have different beliefs, who have different life plans. But we need kindred spirits in our lives. We need to feel that we are not alone in our deepest wishes, in our closely-held ideas on how to live and how to be. We need to feel that we are not alone in our insecurities and fears and in those things that we are afraid to hope for, lest they ever move out of our reach. We need to feel that we are not alone in our sense of right and wrong. We need to feel that there are others like us.

This little blog of mine has opened me up to a world of kindred spirits. I have found other pianists and teachers. I've found people who express themselves best in words. I've found mothers and mothers-to-be who view raising children as the greatest gift and the most important job they'll ever do. I've found the most dedicated wives, and women who sacrifice for their families. I've found Christians who inspire me and challenge me to live my faith.

I had the joy last week of meeting one of my favorite bloggers and loyal readers. She happens to also be the mother of some of our best college friends, but I've mostly gotten to know her through her writing. Her blog, String of Pearls, is just lovely, and she also published a beautiful novel last year called Finding Grace. I had a suspicion, after reading her blog for a year, that Mrs. Pearl and I were kindred spirits, and now I'm sure we are. We had the most delightful time chatting about life, blogging, the similarities in our personalities (we're introverts, we love to write, we adore our families), books, and everything in between. It was so much fun to turn a blogger-friendship into a real-life one!

Kindred spirits are not so scarce as I used to think. It's splendid to find out there are so many of them in the world. 

It is splendid indeed. Thank you, Mrs. Pearl, for such a lovely evening. And thank you to all of my blog friends and kindred spirits--I hope to meet you all in person one day.

It's interesting the way life works. I have had to expand my world and open myself up to vulnerability through my writing in order to really begin to find my kindred spirits. And while this doesn't at all change how I feel about the beautiful friendships I made before I began blogging, it certainly has made my life richer. And I'm so very thankful.