Spirit Days

Steve 24 Jan 2025

Welcome to 2025, the year of the Snake, number six of the twelve year cycle of animals appearing in the Chinese zodiac, and who’s story goes something like this: A race was held to cross a river, and the order of the animals in the cycle was based upon the order in which they each finished the race. The snake compensated for not being the best swimmer by hitching a hidden ride on the horse’s hoof. When the horse was about to cross the finish line, the snake jumped out, scaring the horse, and thus edging it out for sixth place.

I wish I could say the story feels apropos to these current times but that feels like a stretch. I can add, however, that according to the internet, the same twelve animals are also used to “symbolize the cycle of hours in the day, each being associated with a two-hour time period. The hour of the snake is 9:00 to 11:00 a.m., the time when the Sun warms up the Earth, and snakes are said to slither out of their holes.” Which feels like what you'd get if apropos had a baby with arrogance.

Anyway, enough about snakes (open the news if you’d like to read more about them as they seem to be everywhere anytime all at once). I’ve been absent, for myriad of reasons, and am just now starting the year off with these Few Measures that Matter:

If you’re a reader of the New York Times, you’re probably familiar with the musings of the Noble laureate economist Paul Krugman, who retired from the paper this past fall. What you may not know is that he’s continued his work—untethered now (beware you scrupleless snakes)—on Substack at Krugman Wonks Out (actually, I got an update overnight. It’s now called just Paul Krugman). Here’s one he shared on “fuck you money” in the case you worry his writing is all date-driven number crunchery.
We’re celebrating the fact that our middle child is with us in Sicily for a few months and in throwing my own touch of symbolic classification to the occasion, I’m naming the period of visitation: Spirit. Which, number one, pairs asymmetrically well with the superficial shape-shiftiness of a serpent, and number two, it’s the kind of brave and vigorous resolve she and the rest of us need in today’s troubled, turbulent world.

Also, there’s this special reference:

I mentioned back in November we’ll be walking the Camino this spring, and now with January here we are in full “oh-crap!-already” training mode. Even though January is truly the worst time of the year to plan something of this magnitude. But then this is not our first time training for an outdoor activity in what is the coldest time of year. We’ve shared a couple of videos on our practice walks here.
A friend of mine posted a video recently of this band singing a song about turning twenty-five and while no one’s life can match the arc of another’s, least of all in terms of love and loss, the sentimentality found here of young love has turned me on to Rachael Price and Lake Street Dive and their soulful, groovy sound. Here’s a clip from their latest album, Good Together.

Speaking of walking, to gear up for our two week trek I read A Walk in the Park: The True Story of a Spectacular Misadventure in the Grand Canyon by Kevin Fedarko. It was an interesting read of a hobby for which we love to partake in a place we’d love to revisit. Bonus: the walk was sponsored by National Geographic and so you can watch a documentary of their journey with a subscription to Disney+.
While the walk itself seemed like it might end in disaster at any moment, I found myself feeling nostalgic for the time these two had to themselves, and to one another. It is what I love about hiking, backpacking, or simply taking a very long walk. The time it provides to think, to listen, to either turn on the voices inside your head or tune them out. It was an opportunity to succumb to just being in the moment.
The early mornings Franca and I would spend at the bakery would often find us, strangely enough, in a similar environment, where the fact of routine (one pastry in front of the other) gave us space to get lost in the task at hand, in the moment, in conversation. Often, this time was fueled by a podcast, a practice of active listening that has, since then, fallen mostly to the wayside. I changed that recently by tuning in to one of our old faves, A Slight Change of Plans, for a discussion on what makes good communication. I had already read the book, featured on this episode and listening to the interview encouraged me to read it again. Needless to say, I have much room for improvement.
There isn’t much to share in terms of other news and since (it’s January, remember) the news that is out there at the moment is the kind you want to crawl into the hole all those snakes vacated, we’ve been spending a good bit of our nighttime in front of the television. Our tendency is to really sink our teeth into whatever new series takes hold us of us and devour it whole. Broad City, a delightful, sometimes raunchy, friendship series filled us up in a way only food can normally do. Pushing ourselves away from their odd-couple menu of spicy mishap and sticky situation was as bittersweet.
After that, I fell into the trap (for me anyway) of the American Wild West via American Primeval, on Netflix, though there is nothing delightful or friendly about it. It was gory, bleak, unfair, exhausting—and, all in all, seemed like a fairly true account of the western expansion of America. In light of all the rhetoric we hear these days, I’m a bit disappointed in myself that I watched it through to the end, as if history of this violent scope should ever be re-classified as entertainment.
Whew. I’d like to end this week on a brighter note and this is it: