Jen Knox's Blog, page 12
June 12, 2024
On Hide & Seek - Week 4 of 52
As a kid, I was always fascinated by the melancholy nature of most adults. Other kids seemed just fine, but the adults I met seemed so intense and restrained; it was as though stories were swirling inside them, pulsing in the tight containers of their bodies.
I felt sympathy for most of them, and I suppose my former self might feel the same for my current self. This idea makes me wonder how I appear to my nephew Tommy when we play kickball or chat about dinosaurs.
Does he look at me and think, “What’s going on with this one?” or “Poor adult. I’ll help her to remember how to play.” Was it a calculated move that he ‘forgot’ about me when it was my turn to hide during a game of hide and seek?
Judging from his laughter when I finally emerged, arms crossed in mock anger, it might’ve been a lesson in “loosening up.”
My childhood self was probably right to feel bad for many adults. We have issues. We’re often too tired or self-conscious or reactive and maybe it’s because we don’t just scream when we want to scream. We don’t just run when we want to run. We can’t. We live in societies. We live by social norms.
Noting the times we feel cloistered by life, the times we want to scream or run or laugh uproariously at inappropriate moments is something Levine brings up in AYTL as quite beneficial. Noting, according to Levine, is simple but not refined without practice. He offers a simple exercise that I’ve encountered in emotional intelligence literature. It goes like this:
… focus the attention inward, and count how many states of mind come and go in just five minutes. At first we may notice only a dozen or so. But as the method of relating to these states, instead of compulsively reacting to them, develops, they no longer distract us from our observation, and they are gradually exposed to inquiry
Warning: To note our emotions can make us feel a little off-kilter at first. That said, it’s an interesting and worthwhile practice that, yes, made me wonder about my sanity at first but ultimately offered assurance as I began to realize how quickly emotions and thoughts move on. The knowledge that every sensation is in a constant state of flux can be comforting when we’re ill at ease (this won’t last) and gratitude-inducing when we’re doing well (this won’t last, so I should cherish it).
So back to adults and our social norms … those tight little containers of emotions …
Writing prompt: (This is a good one.) Write about a time you/a character violated social norms in favor of emotional release.
AYTL prompt: Try the exercise of noting a few times this week, and keep your journal close. How many emotions or sensations do you notice in a minute? In five?
You might feel like you’re forcing it at first, but if you stick with it, it gets easier.
Tell me how you get on.
June 5, 2024
On Boredom & Week 3 of 52
—Me to my husband whenever we’re about to have company
“Don’t just do something, stand there.”—Very privileged people and The White Rabbit in Alice in Wonderland
I watched my ego, and it seemed to dissolve. Then it came back to demand I pay attention to it, which I did, and it dissolved. The past week has been interesting, and this is the line of thinking it led me to:
Photo by Tatiana Colhoun I am always busy, and I am always starting new things. And I’ve long said this is because I am easily bored. It’s partly true.
Those of us who stay busy might do so to avoid things, but we also love the movement and flow and noise and learning. We want to experience life … ALL of life.
And yet, to experience it all is often to remain bored. Why?
As a walking sequence of recessive genes (see: redhead, short, etc), I like the science that tells me the capacity to get bored will help me survive. And yet, if I’m being honest, it feels habitual.
Even when I meditate, I generally go for the busier meditations.
Think chanting, listening to drums, pranayama, or—best—guided meditations that give me a steady voice or story to focus on. These practices have changed my life. They’re powerful.
But … as I move into Week 3 of living as though this year were my last, I can’t help but feel called to something I haven’t done in over a decade: silent, daily meditation.
No music, no guidance, no dogma, no help, no distraction. Just me and my (gasp!) thoughts.
It’s hard, friends. It’s hard.
Silent meditation is not for everyone; it’s confrontational. All the noise from the day bobs to the surface, but so do the aches and pains, the suppressed feelings, the avoidance, the conversations that should’ve been had.
The practice only seems quiet and still.
“All things flow, nothing abides.” — HeraclitusAs I continue to practice, I realize there is no stillness. But I also realize there is no boredom, not when we’re paying attention.
In fact, to sit still with attention means it is impossible to be bored. And perhaps the boredom I referred to amid my busyness is something else entirely. Something more akin to avoidance.
This week, therefore, is about confrontation. Listening. Within. Maybe even releasing some of whatever it is I’ve been avoiding.
I’ll let you know how it goes.
Writing Prompt:
Write about a person trying to avoid or lie about something (there are plenty of real-world examples, but fiction might be fun) and how that pans out for them.
AYTL Prompt:
It’s Week 3 of 52. Here is the full challenge if you need to catch up. Where in life are you bored? Where are you not paying attention? What’s beneath this?
For me, it’s avoidance. For you, maybe not. But reflecting on the areas of life where we go numb or “check out” is an interesting experiment.
May 30, 2024
"Dandelion Ghosts"
The original story was published by Flash Fiction Magazine and won their Editor’s Choice Prize. This book is part philosophy, part exploration, part commentary. I wrote it in 2020.
"Prerequisites"
This is a very short except of a collection of essays I’m working on. It appears at Prose.onl
70-min sleep support with affirmations
This is a longer sleep track to help those with ruminating thoughts. The affirmations support relaxation and prepare the body to reset in its slumber.
On Positive Potatoes & Week 2 of 52
I’ve taken a few ego blows this week, which I won’t unpack here. But I will say that ego blows can be good for the soul. They can make you reassess what you want and why. They also show you where you are not showing up for yourself.
This week, I plan to show up for myself. That might mean little more than making time to write, drinking more water, and reminding myself that I am more than what I do.
Here we are is a reader-supported publication.
Regarding writing, I’ve been moving slowly because it’s time to start something entirely new. The essay collection is DONE *dusts hands* and I’m drawn to write something forward-moving rather than retrospective. So that’s the way I’m approaching Week 2.
Oh, and to compensate for a bruised ego, I have a(nother) package of positive potatoes to send out into the world.
I was drawn to buy these brilliant little guys in bulk a few months ago because a.) my dog is named Potato and b.) I think the simplicity and silliness is genius. Who could be handed a positive potato and not smile?
My students loved them. The gift even cracked a smile on the face of a student I wasn’t sure could smile. Family and friends have been given or mailed positive potatoes, and images of them have been returned to me in emails and texts (better than blank books, if you get that reference).
This is a simple thing, but it’s bringing me much joy. The act also brings me to a writing prompt.
Writing Prompt:
What is a goofy thing that made you smile? The goofier, the more nonsensical, the less expected, the better.
“You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough.” ― Mae WestAYTL Prompt:
It’s Week 2 of 52. Last week, we wrote a few sentences to remind ourselves of what we’re doing (which is here, if you missed it) and reflect. I personally found myself forgetting often, so I propose carrying this practice of remembering the intention forward and committing to a tiny step toward living the life we’ll be proud of.
Here’s what the week ahead looks like for me:
I am REMEMBERING this challenge, EXPLORING my ego, and GIVING away a shit-ton of positive potatoes—my small way of connecting.
Share your reflections. What does the week look like for you?
On positive potatoes & Week 2 of 52
I’ve taken a few ego blows this week, which I won’t unpack here. But I will say that ego blows can be good for the soul. They can make you reassess what you want and why. They also show you where you are not showing up for yourself.
This week, I plan to show up for myself. That might mean little more than making time to write, drinking more water, and reminding myself that I am more than what I do.
Here we are is a reader-supported publication.
Regarding writing, I’ve been moving slowly because it’s time to start something entirely new. The essay collection is DONE *dusts hands* and I’m drawn to write something forward-moving rather than retrospective. So that’s the way I’m approaching Week 2.
Oh, and to compensate for a bruised ego, I have a(nother) package of positive potatoes to send out into the world.
I was drawn to buy these brilliant little guys in bulk a few months ago because a.) my dog is named Potato and b.) I think the simplicity and silliness is genius. Who could be handed a positive potato and not smile?
My students loved them. The gift even cracked a smile on the face of a student I wasn’t sure could smile. Family and friends have been given or mailed positive potatoes, and images of them have been returned to me in emails and texts (better than blank books, if you get that reference).
This is a simple thing, but it’s bringing me much joy. The act also brings me to a writing prompt.
Writing Prompt:
What is a goofy thing that made you smile? The goofier, the more nonsensical, the less expected, the better.
“You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough.” ― Mae WestAYTL Prompt:
It’s Week 2 of 52. Last week, we wrote a few sentences to remind ourselves of what we’re doing (which is here, if you missed it) and reflect. I personally found myself forgetting often, so I propose carrying this practice of remembering the intention forward and committing to a tiny step toward living the life we’ll be proud of.
Here’s what the week ahead looks like for me:
I am REMEMBERING this challenge, EXPLORING my ego, and GIVING away a shit-ton of positive potatoes—my small way of connecting.
Share your reflections. What does the week look like for you?
May 23, 2024
On moving forward & Week 1 of 52
“My actions are my only true belongings. I cannot escape the consequences of my actions. My actions are the ground on which I stand.”
Thich Nhat Hanh
I’ve been blogging here on Substack weekly since January of 2023. This platform has been a wonderful place to land and explore (random ideas). I wasn’t sure I could be this consistent for so long. Consistency can be an issue because my energy and attention have often been hard to wrangle. But here we are. 🎉
I appreciate your attention and support. Genuinely.
As such, I invite you to watch curiously or join a year-long challenge with me. It starts now, the third week of May 2024, or whenever you read this. Mark your date accordingly. And before I get to the details, I’ll explain the why behind the challenge.
I was recently elected President of a nonprofit women’s organization affiliated with OSU. This is a huge commitment and one I wasn’t sure I wanted due to the political climate in Ohio (and in general). A strong voice is required for this role (and not just on paper). But, terrified as I am, I’ve resolved that it is the challenge and opportunity I need to explore the value of what it is possible to CREATE and set in motion, despite obstacles.
Every year, the president picks a word/theme. You can probably guess what mine will be (see paragraph above).
Photo by Kerri ShaverSo why did I take this on, especially weeks after writing about burnout?
Well, friends, this brings me to the challenge. I’m rereading A Year to Live by Stephen Levine again. I like to reread this slim exploration every few years and work through its challenge for 365 days/52 weeks. In the book, Levine proposes that we a.) confront and explore our mortality b.) leverage that exploration to help realize/remember how beautiful life is and c.) attempt to live this year as though it were the last.
What’s remarkable about this book, which I’ve written about before, is that it highlights how diverse responses are to terminal illnesses and how much we can change our perspective quickly by remembering the ephemeral nature of life. Some people slow down, others speed up; some travel more, and others spend more time at home gardening. Some gain spiritual practices, and others leave them behind.
I love to remind myself of this because it flies in the face of the idea that to cherish life or get the most out of each day means to live by a particular playbook.
For me, this year is about choosing wisely and choosing what will help me grow. It is about releasing expectations and welcoming what comes. Even the tough stuff, even the impossible stuff. But it’s also about refining my ability to listen within. If you’d like to explore this creatively, check out the writing prompt below. More holistically? Hey, join me!
Writing Prompt:
If you had a year to live, what changes would you make? If you’re writing fiction, how would your character’s perspective change?
AYTL Prompt:
Go on this journey with me. I’ll check in each week at the bottom of the post here. I’m personally beginning today, so it’s Week 1 of 52. This week, I will write a few sentences at the beginning and end of each day to remind myself of this project and self-assess. I invite you to do the same.
Thank you for reading Here we are. This post is public so feel free to share it.
On moving forward: Week 1 of 52
“My actions are my only true belongings. I cannot escape the consequences of my actions. My actions are the ground on which I stand.”
Thich Nhat Hanh
I’ve been blogging here on Substack weekly since January of 2023. This platform has been a wonderful place to land and explore (random ideas). I wasn’t sure I could be this consistent for so long. Consistency can be an issue because my energy and attention have often been hard to wrangle. But here we are. 🎉
I appreciate your attention and support. Genuinely.
As such, I invite you to watch curiously or join a year-long challenge with me. It starts now, the third week of May 2024, or whenever you read this. Mark your date accordingly. And before I get to the details, I’ll explain the why behind the challenge.
I was recently elected President of a nonprofit women’s organization affiliated with OSU. This is a huge commitment and one I wasn’t sure I wanted due to the political climate in Ohio (and in general). A strong voice is required for this role (and not just on paper). But, terrified as I am, I’ve resolved that it is the challenge and opportunity I need to explore the value of what it is possible to CREATE and set in motion, despite obstacles.
Every year, the president picks a word/theme. You can probably guess what mine will be (see paragraph above).
Photo by Kerri ShaverSo why did I take this on, especially weeks after writing about burnout?
Well, friends, this brings me to the challenge. I’m rereading A Year to Live by Stephen Levine again. I like to reread this slim exploration every few years and work through its challenge for 365 days/52 weeks. In the book, Levine proposes that we a.) confront and explore our mortality b.) leverage that exploration to help realize/remember how beautiful life is and c.) attempt to live this year as though it were the last.
What’s remarkable about this book, which I’ve written about before, is that it highlights how diverse responses are to terminal illnesses and how much we can change our perspective quickly by remembering the ephemeral nature of life. Some people slow down, others speed up; some travel more, and others spend more time at home gardening. Some gain spiritual practices, and others leave them behind.
I love to remind myself of this because it flies in the face of the idea that to cherish life or get the most out of each day means to live by a particular playbook.
For me, this year is about choosing wisely and choosing what will help me grow. It is about releasing expectations and welcoming what comes. Even the tough stuff, even the impossible stuff. But it’s also about refining my ability to listen within. If you’d like to explore this creatively, check out the writing prompt below. More holistically? Hey, join me!
Writing Prompt:
If you had a year to live, what changes would you make? If you’re writing fiction, how would your character’s perspective change?
AYTL Prompt:
Go on this journey with me. I’ll check in each week at the bottom of the post here. I’m personally beginning today, so it’s Week 1 of 52. This week, I will write a few sentences at the beginning and end of each day to remind myself of this project and self-assess. I invite you to do the same.
Thank you for reading Here we are. This post is public so feel free to share it.
