Aloha fellow learn-it-all 👋
Greetings from Honolulu Hawaii!
A year ago, I wrote and shared about the rut I felt like I was in and shared my most popular piece 🏄🏻♀️ Why the heck do I surf??
Here’s a blurb from the rant:
…feelings that people forget to tell you about in the glamorous surf movies:
Having saltwater and boogers ooze out of your nose, then gulping down even more salt water and thinking “Gosh dangit I am so thirsty!!”
Not drowning after being pounded in whitewash but then panicking, “Did I just lose my bottoms??” *touches hip* Oh phew, thankfully they’re still there.
“Why am I doing this again??” My arms are about a fall off and I’ve been disproportionately in a cow position and my back needs to do a cat position ASAP.
“How the heck did I get this far over here?!!” Ugh, the wind is making me drift a lot. Now I have to go paddle some more. Yippee. As I said in #1, this sport should be called “paddling” not “surfing”.
People ask after “How many waves did you catch rides on?”… what if that number is zero. Congratulations! Now, you are even more defeated than you were before.
I was tempted to impulsively put an end to all of it by pulling a Bethany Hamilton and giving my board away at the beach to some kids, not that my foamy Jerry Lopez board has any more value than $100. (Am I really comparing myself to someone who used to have surfing as their A1 top priority even with one arm??)
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Reading this felt like deja vu.
My mile-long open water “sprint” race from sunset beach to pipeline last weekend felt similar. I didn’t get a personal record, I didn’t get a strong feeling when the current took me in the wrong direction, and I didn’t get enjoyment near the whitewash as I saw huge, five-foot waves cruising in.
So, what did I get?
A canary yellow latex cap that refused to stay on my head. A rolling finish into the beach. And a sunburn. Lucky me— the banana boat company profited from my daily aloe slathering.
I’m not sure if the tides are turning with summer here or what, but I’m back into a period of feeling a lack of motion, also known as a rut. Tis the season of a rut.
I see glimmers of inspiration on the horizon, but for now, let’s drop the expectation of thriving and decide to merely survive. Isn’t that enough?
Now, let’s dive into letter 214 from a learn-it-all. Enjoy!
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❓Question to think about
What’s it like to be restless?
🖊️Writing
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Last Monday, I woke up with a 98 out of 100 sleep score on my Garmin watch. Pretty damn good, right?! Seven hours and 50 minutes of shut-eye, 118 minutes of REM, and 116 minutes of Deep sleep. Wow, I am a lucky ducky.
You’d think that means I feel well-rested, and my body did. But I also felt restless. How can these two opposing feelings coexist in one moment in one body?
When I embarked on this year, I knew I felt complacent. In 7th grade, I learned in algebra from Mrs. Jerome that Y=Mx+B, where M is the slope. My life slope felt like it was nearing a plateau, with the leaps up the learning curve slowing. This led me to set an anti-goal for 2024: to see what it’d be like with island fever while staying in the island chain to be more grounded.
Maybe it’s a story I am telling myself, but by not leaving the Hawaiian islands, I feel like I have made this place into a sort of cage—a beautiful cage that I love, much like the college town I adored.
The OxBox, with cornfields surrounding Miami University in Ohio, where I familiarized myself with the identical red brick buildings. I remember the calming sound of my sorority sister playing "River Flows in You" on Hamilton Hall’s piano, the fire department showing up for burnt Easy Mac in the microwave, and the rush of freely shouting curse words at hockey games. I felt cool knowing where off-campus annex houses were and being nerdy for knowing all the favorite professors' office hours. I remembered the cubicles where friends studied late into the night at King Library, and my friends remembered what type of bagel I liked to order at the deli. I memorized where to get free pretzel rods, the Thursday hotdog happy hour location, and the time free chicken wings and popcorn were served at the bar and grill.
Here in Honolulu, I wear my gaucho pants in the morning to allow the cool ocean breeze to flow freely against my skin. I know that at Kaimana Beach, I’ll see the monk seal pup swimming near the shore. I know where the yellow bench is at on Diamond Head that I love journaling on. I know when the mango trees in Aina Haina’s valley are ripe for harvesting, and Sara is abundantly gifting them. I know the way to walk across the field without stepping on the prickly pokey grass. I know how to drive around the island without directions. I know which friends, like Tom and Sam, love hosting movie nights since I don’t own a TV myself. I know the perfect, refreshing temperature of the water at Ala Moana Beach Park, not too cold and not too warm. I can sense when the sprinklers go off in Kapiolani Park just as the evening sun begins to set or just after it rises. I know which houses along 10th Ave to slow down on my moped to catch the fragrant scent of gardenia and plumeria. I know my favorite barista works at the local coffee shop on Sundays and Mondays. And I know the best, least crowded spot in Waikiki to watch the spectacular Friday night fireworks.
I love how familiar it all feels.
At the same time, this part of me is stirring restlessly, wanting to spice up life drastically.
I recited this poem on my birthday in February while blooming: “I am twenty-eight, and I am feeling great!” But am I still?
A rut may not be the end of the world. The lack of movement may mean something insightful is seeking to emerge.
Feeling both well-rested and restless is my paradox. Perhaps the beautiful cage I’ve created is my comfort and challenge. The stillness might be the beginning of a new discovery. And for that, I am grateful.
📖 Reading
From Week 2: Recovering a Sense of Identity of The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron:
“My grandmother was gone before I learned the lesson her letters were teaching: survival lies in sanity, and sanity lies in paying attention… My grandmother knew what a painful life has taught her: success or failure, the truth of a life really has little to do with its quality. The quality of life is always in proportion to the capacity for delight. the capacity for delight is the gift of paying attention.“ (53)
Here’s to noticing more things in life to lead to more delight and a richer life :)
🎧 Listening
The Lows by Quinn XCII
I'm top-heavy like my Chevy 'cause my thoughts steady
Hot, sweaty, I'm not ready to get heady
With these strawberries and sunflowers out in the afternoon
Baby, I'm almost thirty, Steph Curry, my brain's hurtin'
Overthinkin' worries when my attorney's in no hurry
Yeah, it's all blurry like snow flurries, I don't know what to do'Cause you can't have the sun without the moon
But my highs don't stand a chance without the
Low, low, low, lows
I'm the highest when I let everything
Go, go, go, go
And honey, if you don't hear from me
It's just me out on my own
'Cause my highs don't stand a chance without the
Low, low, low, lows (ayy)
🔍Word to define
Rut: (n) habit or pattern of behavior that has become dull and unproductive but is hard to change
Ex: the administration was stuck in a rut and losing direction.
🌟Quote to inspire
“A mind is like a parachute. It doesn’t work if it is not open.” -Frank Zappa, American musician, composer, activist and filmmaker
📸Photos of the Week
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Having a support network helps the most in whatever stage of life I’m in. I’m grateful to have friends like these with whom I can do lazy boy swim races, barbeque turkey burgers, go on sunset strolls to walk dogs, sing to Wonderwall, and eat cheesecake.
🙏Shoutouts
To chatting with
that inspired this piece.To anyone else feeling like they’re in the middle of something and feeling a lack of motion. It’s okay. Everything you’re feeling is valid.
I appreciate you reading this!
If ideas resonated, I’d love you to press the heart button, leave a comment, reply to this email, or reach me at vermetjl@gmail.com. If you forgot who I am, I welcome you to my online home.
Keep on learning 😁
Mahalo 🌺
Jen
If you’re reading this because someone shared this newsletter with you, welcome! I’d love it if you subscribed:
...kudos to dropping a zappa bomb in here...
I thought I was the only person who wondered how my life felt in the context of Y=mX+B?!?!? I loved all of this Jen, especially the line where you sensed when the sprinklers would come on. :)