What "Stuff You Should Know" inadvertently taught me.

The next time I talk about starting to follow a new podcast, please provide me with a cautionary word.

"Hey, Emily, you know when you decide to engage with something, you have a penchant for immersing yourself in it and not looking back until it's done. Are you prepared for that at this particular juncture? You might want to reconsider."

Or if you don't want to use quite so many words, four will suffice. Simply say, "Stuff You Should Know."

A few months ago, I once again became not only a computer owner, but also Windows user. Before then, I ran Linux Mint, and while I did learn much and knew I was capable of learning more, I never did carve out enough time to successfully navigate the learning curve. Many neglected parts of my relationship with technology stayed neglected as a result. But as soon as the sparkly new Windows 8 was downloaded, I was overjoyed at the impending reality of reconnecting to one certain cherished aspect of that relationship: podcasts.

Being the daughter of my father meant that I grew up listening to NPR. Couple that with my preference for audio over visual, and it becomes clear why podcasts became such an integral part of my life as soon as I discovered them 7 years ago. It felt like one of the greatest discoveries of my life, and helped seal my unending fondness for the Internet.

I put out a call on Facebook for suggestions of what podcasts to subscribe to. I'm aware of quite a few, and could quite easily listen to only those and be satisfied, but as I felt like this technological reunion symbolized a new start to my life (Yes, everyone, that is honestly how affectionate I am toward the Internet - so much that engaging with it again felt like a renewal in the manner of repairing a relationship with an estranged loved one. No one is more amused/appalled by this than me.), it seemed appropriate to find something new for my ears to hear. Among the suggestions I received was one "Stuff You Should Know." I trusted the judgment of the suggester, and was drawn by the title promising two of my favorite things, facts and knowledge, most importantly a variety of each. I scoped it out on iTunes, then clicked "subscribe" after a few moments of perusing.

A couple months (maybe 3?) pass and here we arrive to today, the day I finished every episode of "Stuff You Should Know." They've published something near 500 episodes. Much of my life has been on hold trying to make it through all of them. My spare moments have been devoid of music. Replacing that has been the dulcet tones of Josh Clark and Chuck Bryant. Bedtime reading has been all but forgotten. I pulled out a book to start reading, and it sat on my bed for weeks waiting to be opened. Since opening, it has been even more weeks and I've barely made it through enough to say I began. When not occupied by obligations, all my attention has been given to this catch-all informational bi-weekly modern radio show. I obviously felt like it was worth pursuing, or I would not have stayed the course, but by the end I was ready to exclaim, "Enough is enough!"

When the last episode ended this morning, I felt like a whole world of time was placed into my hands. I'm still breathing relief in deeply.

I do this with everything. I should know better. Maybe now I do.

Hot Space #11.

A pressure cooker. You know the ones, with a latched handle, and bobber that bounces on the top of the pot spewing steam. That's what this season (for lack of a better word) feels like. Nothing penetrates, hardly anything escapes.

But Grandma just came by and tweaked the regulator. SSSHHHHHHHHHH was the sound of making cookies. SSSSSSHHHHHHH was the sound of writing notes to dear ones far away. SSSSSSHHHHHHH was the sound of working with my hands. Release was the sound of creating.

Welcome sounds they are.

But now it's time to reseal the gaps. Just a little while longer, I think. I remind myself the pressure is meant to bring good things. Like Grandma's roast.

At the top of the list of good things this will bring me is sincere, profound gratitude for moments without pressure.

Life smells like fresh bread.

I'm going to let you in on a secret. If you read this secret, congratulations! You're in the loop. All those other people out there have the opportunity to read and know, but they're not reading this, are they?

After pulling out of the job search for a while, I've begun again to think about jobs and business. My thoughts on this matter have changed much since my post-graduation disappointment. I no longer feel a desperation to do the first, easiest thing to come in front of my face. My willingness to do anything has not diminished, but the fear that I have to do anything (as in anything that may not be worth my effort and sanity) is gone. Or mostly gone. I'm in the frame of mind and spirit to pursue something less accessible, something that may not even make sense. Something that has the potential to be more worthwhile than working in a nameless cubicle or hanging drywall. (I've done the latter. I'm willing to do it for myself, or to help out a friend, but as soon as it became a job, I couldn't recall a time I'd been more miserable.)

My retirement from running after a job has also allowed me to experience life in its most basic elements. Fulfilling relationships, serving everyone, loving everyone, unwavering gratitude: these are things which make life a joy, and contribute to well-being of both mind and body. I've been focusing particularly on the latter in recent months, and let me tell you, feeling alive is so much better than eating cheeseburgers.

These things have combined in my head and heart, and what I find emerging are ideas for running a food-manufacturing business from my home. I've always liked to make food, but as I had little interest in eating it, and felt no other passion for it outside of the creation process, I didn't think much about wanting to employ myself in by the process of making it. But my mindset started changing as my diet started changing. I feel great, my mother is on the road to feeling well for the first time in many years, and in light of wellness, a new passion for making food has been aroused in me. I think I can help others with what I have learned.

A few weeks ago, I researched the laws Tennessee has set in place governing this kind of venture, and I gratefully found it is possible, and the provisions are more generous than I expected. Since then, my mind has been swirling with possibilities. It's been hard to know where to begin. I think my mind has settled, however, on specializing in bread. Bread is one of the most integral parts of our diets, so easy to get wrong, and it's these things combined that can make it so devastating to good health. People don't need to be deprived of bread, they just need to eat the right kind.

For me, the name of the game is still research. I'm nowhere near ready to start passing out loaves to my friends and neighbors. Thus as confident as I feel in this direction, every bit of this is still tentative. My other tentative plan is to at least begin taking requests for anything it's legal for me to make and sell at home to fill in gaps between bread sales, but in the interest of fruitfulness and longevity, I think it's important to specialize. This is particularly so in cases where I might sell product after it's made, like setting up at the farmer's market and selling pre-prepared things on the spot. People can't buy something at booth if it hasn't been made yet.

I have lots of other ideas (like wanting my business name and the name of each recipe I make to have something to do with literature and/or music), but I want to focus in on just having organized what it will take to get started, and get started well. I have a feeling many of ideas will stay in my head for a while, until their time to emerge. Or perhaps they'll stay forever. I have no idea how long I will do this, or how large it will grow. I don't see myself baking and only baking for the rest of  my life, but my future vision isn't great. I don't know what will happen with this. I still hold a desire to write. And sing. Perhaps I'll do all three.

That's my secret. If you have any comments, suggestions, words of counsel, I welcome them. There is still a long list of things to work out, and as I'm intending to create something for people, I need to know what the people think. Would you buy homemade bread? What kind of bread do you think you might buy? Would you buy something else? Have any charming ideas for names? Any words of experience to impart?

And if you're the kind inclined to pray, I would be ever so grateful for your kindness in talking to the Lord about me.

Is that the reason why you brought me here?

For a while now, I have been living my life to cater to the good of my family. When someone says jump, I jump. When I was stuck at home and saw we were floundering with nothing to eat, I took it upon myself to find out how to save as much money as possible so we could have groceries in the house. And I sincerely felt like it was important for me to hunker down and listen, wait, and serve until time was ripe for change.

But every once in a while I sing, and I feel alive, alerting me to the fact I've been lacking life unaware. Every once in a while I hear from a friend, and the familiarity I feel from connecting with them makes me realize how much of a stranger they've become. Tonight, I spend more time online than I have in a while, and the movement of my fingers typing words gives me a thrill I didn't realize I was missing without the regular practice of writing.

I've been passively disengaging from all these things for the good of my family, but I can't help but wonder if I'm doing them or myself any good by letting my vibrancy fade.

********

One thing I do know for sure is I want to live now more than I've ever wanted before.

Sadness is not a crime.

If you follow me on social media, you'll likely know I adore the show Downton Abbey, like so many others. I tend to give a wide berth to objects of intense popularity such as this, and did indeed feel some reluctance in engaging with this show, but despite the fondness for it in popular culture, I've found it to be quite good. So good, in fact, that it's become a bit of an obsession, the likes of which results in a loss of sleep. I'm prone to losing sleep, so if it wasn't this, it would probably be something else, but I can say that when I'm typically watching opportunities for sleep pass by me, I'm not quite so enthusiastic as it's happening.

Aside from losing rest to watch episodes over and over again, view interviews, and read articles, the emotions this season have also been responsible for keeping me awake, and are indeed why I'm writing this now. The finale of Season 3 just aired in the States and so stirred me I had to overflow somewhere.

I am, without a doubt, about to spoil it, so if you haven't seen this episode, or this season, or don't want to know, please discontinue reading.

A few weeks ago, Sybil died, and I cried, and cried, and cried. All three times I've seen it. As to be expected, the first time was particularly harsh. It's not unusual for me to get teary, but this was so bad my throat hurt. I felt bad for baby Sybbie, and Cora, and Tom. And myself really. Sybil Branson was 24. I'm 24. Dying in childbirth is frightening.

After my tears, I started moving on from that tragedy, but then tonight happened. This episode was quite good, and maybe that should have told me something. Perhaps it was too good to be true, and I should have seen disaster approaching, but I'll be honest, I didn't. I even knew Dan Stevens hadn't signed on for the next season, but I still was not expecting to see his character Matthew Crawley lying dead in the woods underneath his car, or anything of the like. I'm still shocked.

Even though I didn't cry so much over this loss, it did strike more deeply than the death of Sybil. At the risk of sounding extraordinarily girlish, I really, really liked Matthew. But not in that sense. Matthew was a good man. He bore up remarkably well under the expectations of a way of life he never sought; in the middle of rising to his elevated status he never forgot how to respect people; he loved his wife unwaveringly, and made her a better person. For me, Matthew (along with his cousin Violet) is at the center of why I've become so attached to this show. The world needs more men like him.

Even in the middle of my shock, though, my heart is making way for other feelings. I'm beginning to feel maybe it's not so gloomy as it seems. Perhaps I'm romanticizing the situation, but I almost feel like it's okay Matthew died. Not okay in the traditional sense of the word, but okay in the sense as it's impetus for a better story. Cora said to Edith "being tested...makes you stronger," and I see similar potential in the wake of Matthew's death.. The heir to the title of Grantham will grow up without a father. Tragic as that is, beautiful things can come from it. Just as Robert was starting to truly appreciate his son-in-law, he's no longer around for that appreciation to be shared. Mary will have to learn how to live with half of herself missing. I don't wish any of these things for anyone, but the wonderful thing about life is it can give the consolation of growth when all other joys have vanished. We humans would be a lot weaker if nothing tragic ever happened.

As good as those idealistic words sound, it is possible the alternative reason for the burgeoning consolation rising within me over Matthew's sudden demise is I like being sad. That may sound ridiculous, but I have noticed I'm quite fond of a remarkable number of things that make me cry. Tear-inducement almost seems to be a requirement for me to treasure something. And I'm beginning to notice that I almost always start to feel better after I've been plunged into a deep sadness. I can't confirm this, but I am a melancholic person, so I guess it's not too much to assume.

Whichever is true, my affinity to sadness or true potential for a more meaningful story, I am now looking forward to the next season. I'm guaranteed one of two things: either it'll be so tragic I'll get my thrills, or redemptive themes will rise in Matthew's absence and a better story will be told. Perhaps both will happen. Even with these exciting possibilities (I don't really mean exciting...and yet I do), it will be hard to adjust to seeing the Crawleys without Matthew. Oh! And I just remembered, before I leave here, a few words on the man who so excellently portrayed Matthew, Dan Stevens.

I've seen a lot of ire spewed forth at the man online since the end of this season. The reality is Matthew died because Dan decided to leave the show. He had his reasons, mainly that he wanted to be free to do other things (like be on Broadway), and I don't criticize him for his decision. But it's still true that he is essentially the one who killed Matthew. The show's writer, Julian Fellowes, did not want to exterminate him, but had no choice. Some have said the lack of Matthew will affect the quality of the show, and that's why they're upset. Perhaps it will. Time will tell. However, the more overwhelming criticism I've seen of Dan's decision is nothing more than he made the person complaining sad.

...this line of reasoning does not make any sense to me. I don't mean to sound insensitive when I say this, but there is no crime in making someone sad. A perfect example in the show is Sybil's decision to marry Tom. In doing so, she left a tremendous lot behind her, most importantly her family. It made them very sad, but should she have not done it for that reason? I don't think so. When children around the world leave the home of their parents to make their own life, their parents feel sadness, but it's still good and right for those children to move on. Criticizing them for causing their parents to be sad seems senseless. I don't see why it makes anymore sense in this situation. Some things which often accompany sadness are unacceptable, like betrayal, and insult, but I find no wrong in sadness itself.

Of course, this could just be the melancholy in me speaking. I'm quite at home in mourning. I don't guess I should suppose everyone else is. Dan can rest assured, though, that although he made me very sad, I am only sad and nothing else. Consider it a job well done. I cared about Matthew enough to be saddened by his sudden death, and wouldn't have done so without such an excellent portrayal. Well done, Mr. Stevens, and I do hope you've enjoyed working on Broadway.

2012 Reading List.

2012. What a year. So much I could say, but let's stay on point.

Here is the list of every book I read last year. I had a goal in the back of my mind to read a book for each week of the year as a celebration of my first year as a non-student, but in failing to make it a higher priority, I didn't make it to the goal. I came close with 49 separate titles, but almost can only be what it is. If I am allowed to blame anything but myself, I blame summer. Before June, I was ahead of schedule. During that month, I didn't complete a single book, then soon fell woefully behind, only completing one every ten days to two weeks. The only reason I didn't make more progress during that time is because I was at camp, so actually, better than June, I'll blame the campers. And Dickens. If ever a novel was worthy to be called "tome," Dickens' surely were.

If you're interested in discussing anything you find here, I'll joyfully join you.


1. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
          by Lewis Carroll

2. All Quiet on the Western Front
          by Erich Maria Remarque

 (I probably wouldn't have chosen to read this on my own, but Dr. Linton (my music theory professor (the one on my list of favorite people)) mentioned it in class one semester. Everything he talks about is sacred (because he's Dr. Linton), so I obviously had to read it. It was a'ight.)

3. At the Crossroads: An Insider's Look at the Past, Present, and Future of Contemporary Christian
                    Music
          by Charlie Peacock

4. Breaking Free
          by Beth Moore

5. Brisingr
          by Christopher Paolini

6. Cast of Characters
          by Max Lucado

7. The Celtic Way of Prayer: The Recovery of the Religious Imagination
          by Esther de Waal

(There were parts of this book that seemed disconnected, making it hard to receive the book as a solid unit, but on the whole, it was a worthy read, with some parts I doubt will ever leave me. I'm better having read it, or at least having learned from the Celts. If you haven't, study them sometime.)

8. A Christmas Carol
          by Charles Dickens

9. Coal Miner's Daughter
          by Loretta Lynn with George Vecsey

10. Cooking the French Way
          by Elizabeth Smart and Agnes Ryan

(Yes. I read a French cook book. I was enticed with the idea of pulling a Julie Powell as soon as I finished.)

11. David Copperfield
          by Charles Dickens

12. The Da Vinci Code
          by Dan Brown

(I know what all the hoopla was about now. This book demands devouring.)

13. Desire
          by John Eldredge

(I read this one very early in the year, and it is still sticking with me nigh a whole twelve months later. My perspective changed dramatically by the end of December 31st, and I think I can credit this book with beginning a lot of the change I've experienced. Earnestly recommended.)

14. Eldest
          by Christopher Paolini

15. Eragon
          by Christopher Paolini

16. Everything That Rises Must Converge
          by Flannery O'Connor

17. The Five Love Languages: How to Express Heartfelt Commitment to Your Mate
          by Gary Chapman

18. Free to Be Me: A Journey Through Fear to Freedom
          by Betty Robison

19. God Came Near
          by Max Lucado

20. Great and Precious Promises for Singers and Musicians
          by Stan and Sue Moser

21. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
          by J.K. Rowling

22. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
          by J.K. Rowling

23. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
          by J.K. Rowling

24. Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince
          by J.K. Rowling

25. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
          by J.K. Rowling

26. Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone
          by J.K. Rowling

27. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
          by J.K. Rowling

(2011 was the first year since this series was published in which I didn't read every book (or every one available) at least once. Thus, after skipping a year, it was time to get back to my annual HP reread. I still cried.)

28. The Hiding Place
          by Corrie ten Boom

(I had heard parts of Corrie ten Boom's story earlier in my life, but had never read the full published telling. Now I have. The world is desperately depraved. God is good.)

29. The High Calling
          by James Street

30. The History of the Psychoanalytic Movement and Other Papers
          by Sigmund Freud

31. Inheritance
          by Christopher Paolini

32. It's Time To Be Bold
          by Michael W. Smith

33. Jesus Calling
          by Sarah Young

(I was given this devotional book when I graduated, but my order-loving nature did not want to start it on any day that wasn't January 1st. So I held it until January 1st 2012. I didn't want to like this as much as I did, but it touched a nerve on more days than not, and was a vehicle for so much needed healing and renewal that I was soon won over. I usually read in the morning; I doubt many people would count crying as a good start to a day, but when the crying leads to restoration, I can think of few better ways to begin a day.)

34. No Longer a Slumdog
          by K.P. Yohannan

35. The Pilgrim's Progress
          by John Bunyan

36. The Pressure's Off
          by Larry Crabb

(This book was also integral in revolutionizing my mindset. No, it won't be winning any awards for grace of prose, but content can overcome much, and did indeed in this instance.)

37. Quiet Thoughts
          by Paul S. McElroy

38. Revolution in World Missions
          by K.P. Yohannan

39. SHE: Safe, Healthy, Empowered
          by Rebecca St. James and Lynda Hunter Bjorkland

40. The Story of Beethoven
          Henry L. Kauffman

41. Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There
          by Lewis Carroll

42. Through Painted Deserts: Light, God, and Beauty on the Open Road
          by Donald Miller

(As if I needed more motivation to take off in a VW van and live on the roads of America for a while. Thanks, Don. If I find someone crazy enough to go with me, I just might do it.)

43. The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark
          by William Shakespeare

44. Unfinished Work
          by Kevin Max

45. With New Eyes: Fresh Vision for the Soul
          by Margaret Becker

(I grew up listening to this lady sing, and even though I've long admired her, I didn't expect her prose work to be so great. I was brought to stunned mental silence more than once. It's like she was talking to me, and in an elegant tone so rare I hardly knew what to do with it. And when she wasn't exhibiting grace, she was being so transparent it made me feel it was okay to be just as honest and vulnerable too.)

46. Within Heaven's Gates
          by Rebecca Springer

47. WLT: A Radio Romance
          by Garrison Keillor

48. Women of Sacred Song: Meditations on Hymns by Women
          by Margaret & Daniel Partner

49. The $30,000 Bequest
          by Mark Twain

You Can't Stop the Beat.

Whenever I happen to get online to do anything but read a coupon blog, it's usually at night. On most of those occasions, I also decide to listen to music.

I waste an unseemly lot of time on the Internet because I want to listen to music.

I check all the routine websites, sometimes a few more I've been meaning to investigate for a while, then I think, "I should stop this and go to bed. Or go read." Usually reading is my first option. Then another song comes on, and I refresh Facebook.

After that song..."Dude, I haven't heard this in a while. I miss this song." Or album. Or artist. So I easily talk myself into listening to that song. Which turns into an album. Then an artist's entire repertoire.

And Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest get a refreshing workout, while my friend Google tells me things I'm sure he never would have thought I'd want to know.

If I may back up for a second, the checking of the routine sites isn't over as quickly as one might think, either. I'm not a good passive music-listener. Therefore, as I'm trying to sift through email, before I progress much, I'm bobbing my head and staring into space with a look of transport on my face. Refocus, Emily. I do, then a minute later I'm lost again, this time adding hand gestures. Always. Yet I insist on setting up the same situation over and over again.

I'm hopeless.

Ideally, I'd rather be actively participating in this whole musical experience, but as it's usually somewhere south of midnight, I can't make any remarkable sounds lest I disturb the night's peace. So I sing below a whisper and click ad nauseum to try to convince myself I'm accomplishing something. How easily hoodwinked I am.

And here it is 2 AM again, at the end of 300 words it took me too long to write through a maze of punk rock and Christmas hymns, and I'm still trying to convince myself to press pause.