Happy Saturday!
Welcome to our first installation in what I’m calling the “Neato Curiosities” series. To begin, I’d like to recommend this episode of Science Vs. They discuss ayahuasca and DMT, the molecular compound within it. They spend even more time talking about the synthetically created form of DMT and how it is being used clinically in ways that greatly improve a person’s mental health and outlook on life.
If you have time and interest, have a listen! — Renee
The Best Cacophony
Every Thursday, I lead a support group over a conference call. I facilitate additional support groups as well, and those are hosted over Zoom. But this group of people likes to dial the phone and talk together all at once, so that’s how we keep it. They also playfully scold anyone who calls this a “group,” as I realize I just have above.
“Nope! Nope! We’re a family!”
They’ve decided embrace one another as chosen family. And though the framework of “chosen family” has been a part of my life for a long time — I’ve even writing a book on it; stay tuned!– they didn’t get this language from me. I never used it once with them. Still, it took form, and they have chosen that language and this way of interacting.
That vision showed up for me this week too. I dialed the number and signed in. And this is what I heard:
Happy Birthday toHappy youuuu! Birthday! to Happy! youuuuhappy to youuu to Birthdaytoouuuu Happyyyy dearrrrReneeee! toyouuuReneeeedayy! toyouuuuu!
As you’ll probably guess, I had a recent birthday, and they remembered. They sang together, all at once, and given the conference call medium, it was completely asynchronous. It was a lovely greeting.
The best cacophony.
—Renee Roederer
A Guiding Question
Right now, many people are choosing and acting upon New Year’s Resolutions — most often, daily habits that they want to build over time. As we know, some of these will stick, and some will fade away.
Personally, I don’t tend to choose New Year’s Resolutions, but I do greatly appreciate the collective reset that takes place as we cross into a new calendar year. It gives us a chance to reflect, remember, express gratitude, and cast hopes for ourselves and others.
So I wonder… apart from resolutions, what might it be like to choose a guiding question? A query that can allow us to move more into what we desire or hope for our lives? Questions allow us to live in particular directions. They shape not only what we’re asking, but what we then, begin to see. Questions are great space for reflection, playing and trying things out, and of course, action.
I’m curious what you might choose. Here’s mine:
How expansive can a sense of home be?
I ask this question in the direction of place. I ask it especially in the direction of people.
I am willing to be all-kinds-of-frugal this year in certain areas (living simply is a good thing in and of itself) in order to spend money to visit people I love. I want to be with my people, many of whom live all over the country. This isn’t a sense of vacationing; this is a sense of housing others and being housed. I want to host people in my home. And I have many lovely offers of people who would like to host me.
And in some of these places, I don’t only feel at home with the people I’m visiting. I also feel at home in place. Some of these cities also feel like my cities and my towns too. And I want to build that sense and that feeling. Truly,
How expansive can a sense of home be?
I’m going to play with that question all year.
So… what’s your guiding question?
—Renee Roederer
A Reminder for That Which Remains Unfinished
When seeds begin to germinate, they grow roots downward before they ever grow shoots upward.
And a tweet from @IAmAaronWill shares this wisdom:
If you ever feel like giving up, just remember the last thing to grow on a fruit tree is the fruit.
I hope that speaks in a particular direction for each one of you.
— Renee Roederer
Gen Z is Magic
I’ve known that Gen Z is magic for a long time. Before yesterday, I could have told you that Gen Z has wisdom, brilliance, playfulness, and a commitment to envision and enact a better world. I could have said any of that.
But as of yesterday afternoon, I learned that Gen Z is magic in ways that are comedically precise.
When I was a kid, my friends and I used to play the game, “Guess Who?” Maybe you’ll also remember it from your childhood or from when your own kids were young. You each have a board and you have to ask questions to discover which card — i.e. which person — the other player has.
We would ask things like, “Does your person have a mustache?” or “Is your person wearing a hat?”
Yesterday, I watched two of my most beloved Gen Z-ers play this game with questions like this:
“Does your person run a nonprofit?”
“Would your person get high at a natural history museum?”
“Is your person a member of the AARP?”
“Would you say your person isn’t in therapy right now, but is generally supportive of it?”
And they got the right answers again, and again, and again! How did they do that?
I’m telling you. They’re magic.
–Renee Roederer
Mental Health Monday: I Freed a Strawberry in the Park
Happy New Year!
I don’t love to begin a new year with a post about mice and my house, but… I’ve had some. Yes, some, i.e. more than one. I suppose it’s not uncommon for them to group together like that, though I had no idea about multiples until I put out a live trap and caught two at once.
I’ve become a Mouse Uber. Now I don’t want you to think my house is just utterly infested or something. It’s not. But over the last few weeks, I’ve put that live trap in the car and taken a couple of trips to release mice at the park.
Mice have personalities, just like we do. A few weeks ago, when I opened the trap for these two, one of them stayed inside for such a long time. This mouse was checking out the scene, getting a sense of the open air and looking about in order to observe the features of its future park home. But another mouse BOLTED as soon as I opened the trap, and it super startled me.
A few days ago, I had the live trap out again (just in case, you know). I checked in the morning. While closed, I looked inside the holes to find no mouse. “Oh, good,” I thought. Just to be sure, I shook the trap gently, in case a mouse might have been in the corner out of view.
And then I saw it. There was an outline of a mouse. Time to go to the park again.
There is no money in being a Mouse Uber, by the way. But there I was, talking gently to a mouse as I drove down the street. “How long are you in town?” (Just kidding, I didn’t ask that, but I did say a few comforting things to that mouse).
Once I arrived in my destination, I pulled out the trap and put it on the ground, and because of that previously-bolted mouse, I was really scared to open the lid. I kept doing it just a little at a time. Eek! Ack! At one point, I looked down and could see enough inside.
I saw a mouse, staring up at me. I remember seeing its eyes.
“Hi there, buddy.” Eventually, I opened the trap enough and backed away in fear.
And…
It was a strawberry.
Y’all, I took the bait to the park. I Ubered it down the street, talked to it gently, spent time flitting about in fear, and IT WAS A STRAWBERRY.
So funny. So sweet. (Also, literally).
We humans are pattern-seeking and pattern-making beings. Our brains do that for us. We often make meaning in this way, and we use this process to protect ourselves. Of course, this can create its own problems, too. We also often project patterns from previous experiences onto new situations and see our own fears. This is true when an outline of a strawberry looks like a mouse (I could have sworn it LOOKED up at me), or when we project our stress or trauma history onto new situations and people around us. We assume that people will feel, believe, or act in certain ways because of us. We expect situations to turn out in specific ways. We cast narratives, crafted inwardly but projected outwardly, toward circumstances that might not even be true.
We can be kind to ourselves about this (like a gentle Mouse Uber driver). Our brain is trying to protect us. But this pattern-making process can be limiting as well.
So we can pay attention, allow new narratives to form, and be open to experiences that expand us.
—Renee Roederer
This Week in Nature
Want Some Oxytocin? Here Ya Go!
Smuggling Grace in 2024
As we near the end of the year, I want to thank you once more for following Smuggling Grace. Thank you for connecting with content here and also sharing your own thoughts and reflections in comments. It means a great deal to me, and I have great gratitude for your presence.
I enjoy creating content here. I also hope to cull and curate content as well. So in 2024, posts will move in these directions:
— On Sundays, I will continue share nature photography. Alongside it, I want to extend an invitation for all of us to slow down and notice the beauty around us, wherever we live or travel.
— On Mondays, I will share content with a mental health focus. Over the last few years, I have done a deep dive into learning about trauma, healing through mind/body connections, attachment styles in relationships, family systems theory, mindfulness, and the power of social connections to ease isolation, depression, anxiety, and more. Alongside my own thoughts, I want to share resources. I will share videos, links, and quotes that may be helpful.
— On Tuesdays through Fridays, I will share my own written reflections, continuing to notice moments of meaning, beauty, and delight in daily life. After all, this blog is about smuggling such moments to our awareness and letting them impact us.
— On Saturdays, I will share an invitation to learn what I will call — for lack of a better term — neato curiosities. I’ll share my best smatterings of learning through podcast episodes, books, YouTube videos, and you name it. These are basically opportunities to share what has captured my interest, and I’ll invite you along with me.
Support for Smuggling Grace
If you’d like to support or amplify connections to this space, there are also a number of ways to do that:
— Subscribe: Do you know someone who might enjoy reading and learning with us? Feel free to pass along the link, and you can invite them to subscribe. You can also share to social media any posts that have been especially meaningful or intriguing to you.
— Patreon: Would you like to support Smuggling Grace on Patreon? If so, you can do that for as little as $2 or $5 per month. I will be sharing exclusive content to Patreon supporters as well in 2024. I use these monthly funds to build connections and provide support to neighbors in my town through shared meals and coffee. Thank you for helping me do that. If you want to become a Patreon supporter, you can visit Patreon here.
— Coffee Gratitude: Would you like to offer a tip? If these posts have been meaningful to you in 2023, and you’d like to help me provide shared meals and coffee with local neighbors and friends (see above) you can also give in a one-time way: Help Renee Share the Coffee Love
And your presence is a gift — Thank you!
—Renee Roederer
Summoning a Story
One of the most transformative and empowering acts of care we can offer is an invitation to tell a story. When people can put their experiences into words, they connect meaningfully with others, and perhaps most significantly, they make meaning of their own lives. People remember who they are and become crafters of narratives that convey some of their most significant experiences.
Trauma researchers have written a great deal about this; healing often comes with the ability to share narratives and make meaning out of challenging experiences. We never want to inquire about trauma experiences in intrusive ways, but when people begin to open up, and we sense that they want to share, an invitation of, “Would you like to tell me more about that?” can be remarkably transformative.
Likewise, invitations to share stories of positive experiences can be just as transformative, especially when people are feeling down, sad, confused, or burned out. At the right time — and it is important for it to be at the right time — have you ever asked someone to share about their own resilience? Or about a moment when they felt joy? Or about a time when they felt really engaged and alive in what they are doing?
As we share, these positive memories of the past become present, physiologically speaking. These stories flow through people’s bodies as they tell them, and the act telling them changes how their bodies are feeling in that moment.
One of the most transformative and empowering acts of care we can offer is an invitation to tell a story.
Smuggling Grace 