chapter 3: cycles
A few days ago, my dad asked me if we could “tag” Moleskine in my newsletters. If you didn’t read the previous chapter, I mentioned wanting a particular Missoni x Moleskine notebook to journal in.*
*I have since bought it for myself. If you’re going to look at and use something every day, why shouldn’t it be exactly what you want?
As much as journaling creates a meaningful life narrative (some might even say it organizes it into ~chapters~, writing everything down also makes me hyperaware of patterns: the different seasons, different feelings, different routines, different cycles. Like life chapters, life cycles are not inherently good or bad (though I’m certainly scared for when the trend cycle regurgitates mid-2010s fashion). They’re a natural human response to randomness, which we’re often unable to fathom. If you disagree with this mindset on randomness, see: irrational numbers, coin flip results, or me holding up a spork. We cannot wrap our heads around something truly random. And so sometimes we make patterns out of nothing, just to make sense of the world.
Example: I used to wholeheartedly believe that every other year of my life would be bad. It made sense to me at the time; one era would need to balance out the next. It wouldn’t be fair, otherwise. Of course, this only happened two or three times: 8th grade bad, 9th grade good, 10th grade bad, 11th grade… okay I guess? Even thinking back on it, I still find myself trying to fit the years of my life into this arbitrary pattern. Like, okay, maybe senior year WASN’T that great because I ended up in a lot of friend drama… and yeah first year was good because I had just started college … and second year was bad because I was on Accutane and depressed. Even when I know the good-bad cycle is arbitrary, I can’t help but try to fit my life into the pattern.
But really, there’s no point in trying to fit my life into this cycle; if anything, it seems to invalidate anything good that happened on “bad years,” while unfairly glamorizing the “good” ones.
Which leads me to my main point: I am getting really tired of trends, and the cycles that command them.
As someone who more or less follows “the culture,” I’ve become increasingly aware of the regurgitation of things I’ve already experienced. Some examples: the dreaded return of low-rise jeans, the unexpected comeback of water with chia seeds, Uggs, yoga pants. The first two are obviously the worst offenders.
an ugg apologist since 2010
Now, as humans, we love the familiar. We love to see the same thing over and over, watching many movies on the same topic, or reading only articles that reinforce our own views. The pleasure of being validated and “right” creates a kind of tunnel vision.
But I think the most alarming part of cyclical life, for many people, is its resistance to the notion of “uniqueness”. I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately – things that are seen as special or unique. In my view, for something to be “special” would mean it would be a surprise to encounter – and surprises are not something I encounter often. I don’t know how other people go around viewing the world, but after 24 years in my body and brain, I find most things predictable. Predictability is everywhere: my friends’ actions, the plot of books or movies, even international crises. Things repeat ad nauseum.
Writing this out feels kind of depressing, calling too much attention to my mundane point of view. Maybe I lack the excitement or joy other people are feeling every day at their special and unique experiences, surrounded by unique and special people. But it feels unhealthy to pursue that spark as a permanent state of being.
Nothing is truly new. Not the friend you just made, or even the cells in your body. Everything is created from the same base, the same past written in our cells. Matter, after all, cannot be created or destroyed. It always goes somewhere, always comes from somewhere. Everything has a gleam of the past, a hint of the familiar. Nothing is truly new or unique.
Cycles are a lived nostalgia. Whether experienced on a small (daily routines) or universal (seasons) level, we take comfort in the nostalgic rhythm of our learned existence. Our brains aren’t wired to withstand perpetual excitement. The human mind, after all, was built in survival mode, where something new was a cause for alarm. Our homeostasis is geared towards unthreatening familiarity. So, whether you like it or not, the brain craves repetition, nostalgia, and cyclical action.
We live in cycles for the same reason we live in routine. Our brains are built for emotional regulation, and routines make us feel safe. We know what’s coming. We know what to expect. It gets hotter in summer and colder in winter. Finals week is hard, but we can relax on the weekends.
Even a non-routine becomes a routine. Think of the people who build vans into homes, driving across states and exploring the corners of our vast country. This life, though more “adventurous,” forms its own cycles, too. After all, your everyday actions become your de facto routine. How you live each day, each week, each month… it compounds and compounds until your routine becomes your life.
This might seem depressing (and possibly poorly articulated). Routine is so often associated with banality. For creatives, routine spells the death of innovation. But if your goal is to create, you need a system in place. An endless cycle of creation and refinement and continuous improvement. Because ultimately, it is your commitment to the process that will determine your progress.
To convince you of the merits of routine, I’ll leave you with this: I want to write more. Instead of writing when I’m inspired, I’m going to write this newsletter every week. At the end of the year, instead of having a few projects created from random creative bursts, I’ll have 40 short essays. I’ll feel good. I’ll feel accomplished. I will have created something. And not to be cliché, but that is always better than nothing :)
Ten things I liked this week
Soft recommendations
1. Getting a journal I really love
2. Downloading Grammarly. No, I’m serious. I downloaded it this week and it’s actually been… incredibly useful
3. Monochromatic outfits**
4. These monster stamps, for sending the best mail to people you love (or mailing in your 2021 taxes)
5. Journaling every day!! I promise you’ll like it.
6. Sumo oranges. The cheapest ones are at Trader Joe’s, and the best ones are heavy and feel like they have loose skin.
7. Trying things I used to love as a kid but haven’t done in 5 years, or even 10 years. In the spirit of this, I picked up my long-lost keyboard and started playing piano again! I'm learning this song right now.
8. Spending time outside and having a picnic, even when the weather is kind of awful
9. Misting the leaves of my plants. I have truly never seen mine so happy.
10. Miso ginger broth from Trader Joe’s, which has resolved any “meh” feelings I’ve ever had towards vegetarian broths. Here’s a description of my assemblage:
add miso ginger broth, pre-cooked noodles (I had vermicelli), a bit of vinegar (ume plum vinegar was my selection. Rice wine vin seems like a good fit as well), cubed silken tofu, and what my mom says is Amazon’s highest-rated chili crisp to a bowl (if microwaving) or pot (if stoving)
heat until warm
**a greenfit for the ages, worn on the one 60º day last weekend
Until next time,
Madeleine