Smile, You're Not On Camera
Issue 75
Hello, darlings. It’s me, Simone. I trust daylight savings time is driving you batty, as it does every year. One hour throws us off far more than one hour ought to. At this time last year, in Issue 23, I wrote about the potential for daylight savings time to die. Alas, it’s still alive. Maybe next year.
This morning, I swam laps for the first time in many months.
When deciding whether to swim or write, I chose the pool, figuring something would come loose if I moved my body. Indeed it did—thoughts on swimming :)
Today, I’m comfortable bilateral breathing—from my right and left sides equally. This wasn’t always the case. Like handwriting, swimmers have a dominant side; mine was always my right.
In 2017, after a long hiatus from the sport and a bad breakup, I hit the pool for frequent swims. Despite the discomfort, I pushed myself to breathe on my left side to rewire my overactive brain and aching heart and prepare for an upcoming open-water race. I did it until I gradually built muscle I didn’t have and shook neurons from their routine.
Training to breathe on my left took as long and was as awkward and difficult as learning to write gracefully with your non-dominant hand—precisely what was needed to shake shit up.
I wrote an essay about this. I don’t want to force you to read, but I don’t want to ignore it either. The lesson is important. If you’re suffering, learn something. If you’re ultra comfortable one way, go another way. Your brain needs new patterns for growth to happen and for suffering to abate.
*If you do read the essay, know that I know the illustration is creepy AF :)
Make or Bake
Possibly the best bread I’ve ever had is from a bakery called Jane. I only learned about it last week (thank you, Carla).
If you’re in San Francisco or Marin, you can experience this fine cafe-bakery for yourself.
Mill Valley friends: Jane purchased Sweet Things in The Cove shopping center.
SF friends: You have a few options. Go here to see them.
Outside-Bay-Area friends: a) sorry b) it looks like they sort of ship.
While I gravitate toward the olive bread, I presume it’s all good. Now, run along. It’s time to break bread.
Too Clean or Not Too Clean
More is not better. There’s a point when too much laundry detergent becomes detrimental. First, for your skin. Second, for your clothes. Third, for your machine. Fourth, for your wallet.
No more.
Guess how much detergent you actually need? 2 tbsp tops, tops. Maybe even one!
I didn’t know this until I heard the same advice twice in one week. My skin is easily irritated by detergents that are not natural—and apparently by too much detergent.
Use less and make your skin, clothes, machine, and wallet happier—and the detergent companies grumpier.
Here’s an NYT article on the subject. A google search brings up more of the same.
No Wonder It’s So Good
Q: What happens when Paul Simon and Malcolm Gladwell sit together with a tape recorder and a guitar?
A: Miracle and Wonder: Conversations with Paul Simon happens.
My friend and collaborator, Craig Frazier, shared this excellent audiobook with me. I’m halfway through, and I’m thoroughly enjoying it. I think you will, as well.
It’s Souper Freezing Tonight
Last night, I made soup. I ate a bowl. Owen ate a bowl. Emma ate no bowls. I have leftovers for days.
In my past life, which includes last night, I would wrangle plastic and glass jars and divide them between the fridge and freezer—teetering stacks of Tupperware atop bushels of kale and half-empty boxes of waffles.
Last night, as I wrangled, I thought, “Someone has to have figured this out. There has to be a better way.”
Indeed, there is.
A google search for “containers for freezing soup” turned up the solution.
It’s souper!
A PSA on T.S.A.
Do you follow T.S.A. on Instagram?
(You: She can’t be talking about the Transportation Security Administration.
Me: I am.)
Here’s a company that’s supposed to act one way (they’re the freaking government) that’s acting in a completely different way than expected.
They’re loved for it.
With 1.2 million followers, T.S.A. provokes far more smiles than yawns by communicating serious information with silliness.
An old swim coach I had used to say: Just because I make light of the subject doesn’t mean I take the subject lightly.
That.
When something brings a smile to our face, even if it’s a cheeky smile, we’re grateful. We simply don’t laugh enough. Because we feel joy, even momentarily, the information accompanying the joy is more likely to sink in. We’re moved.
Isn’t that what companies want—to move customers—literally and figuratively? It is! Make them feel something. Then, get them off their butts and make them buy your product. I’m kidding. Only partially. You do want that, but you also want to give them a gift, like a smile. When you do, they’ll appreciate and remember you foreva (yes, foreva).
By the way, the woman behind the T.S.A. account worked the front of the house (the actual airport) until she took over the agency’s social media. She DID NOT start with that many followers. She grew them. And as she did, her team grew. She has six people running the outbound (content and posting) and another six running the inbound (fielding DMs, questions, and photos).
I wish more companies were like the Transportation Security Administration. (Did I just write that? My social media recipe for most companies: A little wonky, a little unexpected, a little enjoyable, and a lot sincere.
Make them smile.
Love it, and the writing! You're like this lazy man's pen pal. I get great emails and I don't have to write back for more.
Wear the cap forever. You must. You can be aerodynamic all the time. Like when you're buying bread. Or freezing soup!