Uphill, Downhill, All Around Hill

the playlist that saw me through the year from hell.

Perhaps it’s spring or grief or entering a new decade, but lately I find myself reflecting on former seasons of life.

My mind flashes back to new experiences, new apartments, new relationships, new jobs, new challenges. Times when “newness” felt ubiquitous and exciting, laden with possibilities.

On my birthday Friday, I had a thought: turning forty is a thing I’ve never done before. I’ve never experienced this age before, or this decade, or this day. I’ve never experienced the shape of life right now — the parts I chose and the ones I very much didn’t. Through another lens, everything is always new, even when it’s less obvious, less celebrated, or doesn’t come wearing the shiny badge of “firsts” that is often thrust upon the very young.

New Yorkers may recognize this as the restroom at Cafeteria, proving that beauty and profundity may be lurking just about anywhere.

It’s been quite a year. It was a time of joy and loss and grief and change, creating and believing and staying the course.

In light of that, I’d like to take this occasion to thank you for being here. Whether you’ve subscribed from the beginning or are brand new, it means a lot to me. Your presence has buoyed me time and again. Your support has enabled me to do this work, which has brought so much meaning and connection. You’ve given me a place to show up, something to look forward to, stories to make me (and all of us) feel less alone. Thank you.

As I’ve written before, I get very granular about the creation of playlists. I have playlists for different moods, different activities, different occasions. For races, I’ll try to time it so the music will line up perfectly with specific points on a course. There are songs for hills and bridges, sprints and rambles. It makes a huge difference, not just on performance but on the overall experience. Dick Clark once said, “music is the soundtrack of your life,” an observation that feels profound and reductive in equal measure.

Yesterday, on a slow, hilly run, I was struck by the metaphor of ups and downs — our ability to feel both powerful and exhausted, inspired and depleted, in turns or all at once.

To that end, there are some songs I’ve turned to in recent months — when running, yes, but also while drying my hair, doing errands, rage crying, writing, cleaning…sometimes on the same day. Whether they tap into a spirit of perseverance, growth, new beginnings, the beauty of the moment, or straight-up lamentation, they’ve perfectly scored so many emotions.

As I know a few of you are in the midst of challenges and transitions (and really, who isn’t?), I thought it might be nice to share. So, whether you currently find yourself heading uphill, downhill, or all around hill, here is my tried-and-true soundtrack. I recommend listening while walking or running or eating or cooking or writing or lying, prone or supine, like a majestic starfish. Or whatever feels right for you.

Here’s to tomorrow. I’m excited for the new to come, and I thank you for being a part of it.

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Card of the Week

Here is this week’s card for the collective, as well as some thoughts to carry into the days ahead. As most modern readers will tell you, the tarot is not about fortunetelling, nor is it about neat, definitive answers. The cards are simply one path to reflection, a way of better knowing ourselves and others through universal themes. If this reading resonates with you, great! And if not, no worries. Take whatever may be helpful and leave the rest.

Mermaid Tarot by Dame Darcy

Today’s card is partially about treasure.

The storybook definition would have us believe that treasure is relegated to the world of riches and metals and precious gems, priceless art or valuable collectibles. But our understanding of “treasure” may be as varied as our definition of “success.” Treasure is wherever we see it, and whatever we make it. Treasure is what we hold dear.

The Nine of Pentacles may be bursting with shiny golden coins, but this card cares less about winning the proverbial lottery and more about creating value.

On the surface, this card carries a message about abundance. But at its heart, it’s actually a meditation on self-awareness. “Success,” it tells us, is not simply a matter of achievement. True success isn’t measured by the numbers on an account statement or titles on a resume or trophies in a case.

As far as the Nine of Pentacles is concerned, success is a matter of self-knowledge. A measure of self-trust. It is something we cultivate, through every choice and action. It is something we build, with time and effort and care.

The iconic Smith-Waite deck, with art by Pamela Colman Smith

Traditionally, the character on this card stands in a bountiful garden, surrounded by grapevines and golden coins. They are well turned out, cloaked in a stately frock. We cannot help but observe the fruits of their labor, along with their sheer enjoyment of what they’ve created.

We don’t know what led to this point. Maybe they’ve built a company, a brand, a family, an empire… and whatever it is, good for them. For today’s reading, we are only concerned with the creation and development of the sense of self.

The book Wild Card likens this card to the now-iconic Cher interview where she shares the anecdote, “My mom said to me, sweetheart, one day you should settle down and marry a rich man. And I said, ‘Mom — I am a rich man.”

You may not identify with any of this, and that’s quite alright, but this card urges us to reach for the same level of self-assuredness. It asks us to notice the ways in which we have created our own kinds of richness.

The Nine encourages us to seek this level of clarity, perspective, and certainty. What Rachel Pollack describes as, “the ability to know where others can only guess.” It reminds us that we don’t need other people’s permission or approval to seek what brings us fulfillment. We are our own North Star and truest advocate.

The figure on this card is depicted alone in the garden, as sometimes the pursuit of self-reliance is a solo path. We may have to walk alone at times, in service to our own ideals. This card encourages us to forge ahead, secure in the knowledge that some sacrifice is inevitable, and the pursuit of our values is worth it.

Remember when I said this card was about treasure? The twist is that sometimes, we arrive at a most curious discovery: we are the treasure.

So, how does one find their way to this self-assured scene? Through faith and grit, sure, but also through vulnerability. Just because our path may require us to occasionally walk alone, we are also allowed help and encouragement. Ask for the support you need. Rejoice in the company of others.

In the lower right hand corner, we see a tiny symbol, so small we could almost miss it. A snail, chugging along the garden floor, moving at its own pace. Last but certainly not least, this little friend reminds us that everything we’ve touched on here — success, certainty, clarity, trust — is a path, like any other. We are each moving in our own way, on our own timeline. Comparison helps no one. Focus on taking it one step at a time.

In the meantime, the Nine of Pentacles asks, do we trust good turns, good times, good luck? Do we allow ourselves to appreciate? Can we give ourselves permission to celebrate the wonderful things we’ve done?

This week’s message is simple: In the most generous way possible, take a look at what you’ve built. Look at how you’ve grown. Look at who you’ve become.