Well hi there.
Since my last newsletter, I’ve made a big career change: I’ve stepped down from my post as editor of Public Discourse, where I’ve worked for the past eight+ years (the entirety of my married life!). Going forward, I’ll remain affiliated with the journal as editor-at-large. That basically means that I’ll spend a couple of hours each week helping plan out our content, particularly the monthly interview features and long read essays. But I won’t be running the show any more.
I wrote up a little reflection about my time at PD, which you can read here. I included nine of my favorite essays, one from each year that I worked at PD.
I also had a conversation with PD’s new managing editor, Elayne Allen, about the mission of the journal and her vision for how it should be carrying out that mission now and into the future. You can read it here.
I’m so thankful for my time at Witherspoon. It was deeply formative for me. But I’m also happy to be passing along the management of the journal. That kind of administrative work uses a lot of the same type of energy and brainpower that I find it takes to run a household, and I’m eager to be able to focus more of my time on my home and family—and my own research and writing, which I’ll be sharing with you here.
This change took place two weeks ago now, but I feel like it’s still sinking in. Part of that is because the last couple of weeks have included a day off of school for the kids (Catholic school gives you All Saints Day off even when it’s not a holy day of obligation, apparently!), a trip up to NYC for several days, the kids getting a cold and being home sick for a couple of days, etc. So I’m still figuring out what my days are going to look like without the everyday demands of a job to set my to-do list for me and give me a sense of accomplishment at the end of the day. I’m trying to give myself permission to move slowly (hence the fact that this newsletter is so belated!).
I keep thinking back to conversations I had with moms as part of my Novak project. So many of my discussions with stay-at-home moms centered on the questions of identity that arise when a woman decides to opt out of her career, even temporarily. We’re so conditioned to achieve, to produce, to earn affirmation or regard, that it’s hard to turn that off. At the end of the day, how do you evaluate if the day was “good” or “productive”? Do those have to be the same thing?
I remember talking with an older woman, now a grandmother, who emphasized how much autonomy she had as a stay-at-home mom. This woman has a PhD from an ivy league university in a lucrative field. But even after her children were grown, she didn’t want to reenter the workforce full-time. She had taken on commitments of (unpaid) care for others in her community and her own rhythms of life that she didn’t care to give up.
I also keep thinking of a friend of some close friends of mine. I’ll call her E. My friends recently lost a child well into the second trimester. It happened to take place on a weekend when another mutual friend, M, was supposed to be staying at their house with her baby as they traveled through the state. E stepped in to help. She not only hosted M and her baby but also watched the three older siblings of the lost child while their mother was in the hospital.
M reflected to me after the fact that E was able to do this, at least in part, because she is a stay-at-home mom. She has made choices that give her and her family enough margin to be able to be radically responsive to the needs of those in their community, to hold space for those who need it. I want to be able to do that too.
As I step back from my day job, it’s tempting to be trying to publish as much as possible or to try to nail down a book deal ASAP. I’m trying to consciously take some time to pull back, to read a lot, pray a lot, and reflect a lot, and to decide what I want to devote myself to next.
What I’m Reading
A few quick reading recommendations before I let you go.
The Deep Places, by Ross Douthat. This is so gripping, I read it in about a day and a half. It’s a memoir about how the bucolic dream of buying an old farmhouse in the country turned into a nightmare of pain, thanks to chronic Lyme disease. It’s also a fascinating reflection on the philosophy and reality of our contemporary medical establishment, from someone who found himself seeking out all kinds of untested treatments outside its bounds.
From Survive to Thrive, by Meg Chisholm. This is a short, extremely readable, but very rich book aimed at those who struggle with mental illness, something I have experience with myself. It draws on Dr. Chisholm’s work at Johns Hopkins as well as the work of researchers at Harvard focusing on human flourishing. I conducted an interview with Dr. Chisholm yesterday and loved talking with her. I’ll share it here once it’s published.
Vows, by Sigrid Undset. For all the Kristin Lavransdatter fans out there… you should check out her lesser known tetralogy, of which is this is the first volume. I got to participate in a zoom seminar on the book with Tiina Nunnally, who is in the process of translating them all (and whose translations of Kristin are highly acclaimed), which was very cool.
The Lifegiving Home, by Sally and Sarah Clarkson. This is such an inspiring read. I get really easily overwhelmed by everything that it takes to physically organize, decorate, and set up a home. I’ve found myself very tired lately, and I think a big part of it is just all of the newness and the wall of decision fatigue that I find myself hitting. I am a big believer in the power of both ritual and routine, and it takes time to create new routines in a new place. This book is really affirming—a good mix of down-to-earth advice and spiritual insights, emphasizing the deeper purpose of creating a place that welcomes and nurtures both the family who lives there and every guest who comes through the door.