Sometimes Music Is Just Better Than Words

On fall, letting go, and finding the perfect song.

It’s time for my twice a month bonus Friday newsletter! Before I get to the good stuff, here are the relevant updates in my writing world this week:

• Last week, The HerStories Project launched Midstory Magazine right here on Substack. This is a Gen X specific publication where we explore love, loss, and friendship at midlife. You can read my welcome post here.

• Locals, grab your tickets to Listen To Your Mother Denver at the Oriental Theater on Tennyson on Sunday, November 5th at 5:00 pm. In addition to favorite alumni stories, you can hear me read “Main Character Mommy.”

• Our latest Mother Plus Podcast episode is live, and you can listen here. We’re going to try to inspire you to make regular deposits in your self-care account, because you can’t bank respite, depletion is a real thing. You’re going to love this banking metaphor, you guys. I definitely did NOT take it too far.

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October is here, and it feels like fall is just beginning in Colorado—the last few months were hot AF, and the change in the air feels utterly delicious. Fall puts me in touch with so many different emotional experiences—longing, joy, melancholy, sentimentality, and my trademark joie de vivre takes on a spooky, mysterious Halloween-tinged energy. October brings out my inner daydreamer.

Today while I was driving home, I saw the most stunning, vibrant red vine hanging off one of my favorite neighborhood trees. Even though I was alone, I couldn’t help it—I exclaimed out loud and smiled so wide, in an embarrassingly cheesy Anne of Green Gables moment. It was so gorgeous, and I felt delighted that I saw it. Almost immediately after, I wondered if today would be the most beautiful vine day of the year, and if next time I saw it, it would have died already. I could see a storm on the horizon, and I worried that the wind might blow the beautiful red leaves off the vine. I wanted a guarantee that I could drive by and look at it for, I don’t know, at least another week? Would that be enough? I wanted to capture it. I wanted to keep it.

And then some other inner voice whispered, “You’re so lucky you got to see it; it was so beautiful. That’s enough.” It made me reflect on how frequently I try to hang on to things that simply aren’t meant to last, or I get preoccupied with how the story will end.

This isn’t the vine; I was proud of myself for not stopping to take a picture, and just appreciating it instead. I did take this last year, though. I’m a sucker for taking pictures of fall leaves.

My teenager and I were reminiscing about some of my favorite “baby memories” while we were driving together today, and I was telling her about the time her baby sister got us kicked out of mom-and-baby yoga. At ten months, she brought a Godzilla-type energy to the class full of squashy, semi-comatose newborns, and I was politely urged to level up to the “leave your baby at home” vinyasa flow class. But that last day, something beautiful happened: I was in tree pose, and my baby used my leg to pull herself up to stand. As I balanced on one foot, other foot tucked inside my leg, arms opened up to the sky, my daughter stood clutching my leg and gazed up at me. It was gorgeous, and I wish I could have captured it. Why didn’t someone take a photo?

Letting go can be so hard.

Two weeks ago when I wrote my bonus newsletter, I found myself in kind of a heavy, dark moment (car accident, post rat disaster, general ennui), and while I’m feeling a little less overwhelmed this time around, the world in general is feeling pretty heavy and dark. In addition to global news, it seems like so many of my loved ones are going through impossibly difficult times. And I find myself struggling to find words.

So for my bonus content today, I’m turning to music instead; it’s always good to put my music therapy degree to good use, eh? 😉 Music background or not, I suspect I’m not alone in my love of curating playlists for specific moods and life events—don’t we all have a series of niche soundtracks that evoke specific memories and feelings?

I’m going to share my favorite songs of the moment below, and yes, I’m even going to sing for you a little. What can I say, this feels like a raw, tender time, and sometimes only music can convey what needs to be expressed. Read on, subscribers!