Currently

All has been quiet. A small boy with a fistful of action figure cake toppers weaves between piles of folded towels, sheets. It’s laundry day.

It’s been laundry day for six years over here, is what a girlfriend said to me recently.

(Same.)

erin loechner blog

This morning, I’ve searched my mind for a word to describe the season’s quiet. It’s not calm, given the aforementioned action figures, certainly the aforementioned small boy. It’s not noiseless, is what I mean.

Perhaps still is what I’m after. Dishwasher whirling. Dogs lapping water. Enough snow to soften our edges.

erin loechner blog

My entrance into 2019 began with much boundary-setting. The year prior had brought about its own share of excess, of loosening. I’d sensed the seams stretching, and soon after, burst.

One thing that spilled forth was sobriety. Another, more specifically: a refusal to participate in the marketing of alcohol to women. Another, even more specifically? A refusal to participate in the marketing of any product designed to make any human feel as if her current presence is unwelcome, i.e. anti-aging skincare, for one.

The result? A deep mission. Absolute purpose. Both, stories for another time.

“It is never too late to be what you might have been.” George Eliot wrote this, two centuries ago.

“It’s called beloved, not doloved.” I wrote this yesterday.

Books finished:

Boy Erased, by Garrard Conley
The Tin Man, by Sarah Winman
Joy Enough, by Sarah McColl
This Naked Mind, by Annie Grace
All the Colors of the Earth, by Sheila Hamanaka

erin loechner blog

All else: leftover carrot cake, extra buttercream. I, Tonya on a Monday midnight. Dry erase portraits on the bathroom mirror, a garland of old t-shirts strung happily atop the fireplace.

A daughter in the midst of a book, asking the greatest question I know:

Why didn’t she try?

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  • All goodness. I look forward to reading more on what you have mentioned. As usual your writing strikes the heart.

  • This spoke to me on so many levels. Aging. Trying. Your book was given to me as a Christmas gift several years ago. Thank you for continuing to share your mind and heart.

  • Yes, yes, YES! This selling of things to make any human feel like less than. The selling of anti aging when products when a simple moisturizer like coconut oil and/or some sunscreen is enough. The selling of eyebrows that are freakishly square at one end and pointy at the other to say that your natural eyebrows aren’t enough (or a simple LIGHT brushing of a plain old eyebrow pencil). The selling of false eyelashes and lash/brow stores popping up everywhere because your lashes aren’t lush enough. The selling of the “no make up makeup” look that includes what seems to be 15 tubes of goop and 45 minutes of work to create your very own natural look because certainly your own natural beauty isn’t enough. (This is not to say that I hate make up but that I hate seeing women and girls as young as {fill in the blank} being told they aren’t good enough as is.) The selling of toxic chemicals to color your hair every 6 weeks because, God forbid, your roots show and people see you have gray. Or, worse yet, you’re 8 years old and you’re being sold the baloney that you would be a lot cooler if your hair was any color but your own. Thanks for opening this door. I love your writing! Thanks for letting me rant.

  • I discovered Annie Grace in December. Reading her books has been eye-opening and life affirming for me. I’m so interested in your journey and look forward to reading about it in the future.

  • Your posts always leave me with some beauty, some quiet wisdom, some soothing words to tuck away in my mind. Thank you.

  • Your writing, to me, is like reading Maya Angelou’s work. I hear this cadence in my head when I read your essays and it’s so calming and peaceful and serene. A little hushed, even. There’s the punch-to-your-face moment of emotion and then back to serenity. I love it. I love your mission and aim to join you. I may even have to make that into a quote or something. Do you mind if I borrow that line? LOL I am 47 yrs young and am saying Fuck You (‘scuse my language) to anti-aging. I’ve recently started washing my face with raw, unfiltered honey and moisturizing with jojoba oil afterwards. Honey. Who knew? It’s been doing wonders (Thank you #LilyDiamondofKaleandCaramel) And if I get a gray hair, so be it. I don’t even plan to dye my hair. If my current presence is unwelcome to you, then that person doesn’t need to be in MY presence.

    • Borrow away, Cece, and I’m cheering you on! Age is nothing to oppose indeed. Thank you for being here!

      p.s. I’m an apple cider vinegar and coconut oil girl over here, so I’m admittedly curious re: your honey methods. ;)

  • This speaks too me so much!! It’s not quiet it’s not noiseless. Still is the word. It’s not calm it’s not noiseless describes the first 3 months of our year. I love what you said it’s not doloved it’s beloved. I’m still wrestling with rest even though I’m struggling with new health problems this year and two babies and school. I love reading these posts they remind me to look for joy within my own 4 walls. Is the carrot cake whole30? Would love to know what recipe you used!

  • Looking forward to reading more when you share abt these new boundaries/redefining aspects of you! ❤️