I love this pause in the year, these days between Christmas and New Year’s, between shopping and going back to school. It’s one of the only times that everything seems to slow down to a more human pace. We light fires and work on puzzles and go for walks in the cold and take naps. It gives me space to look back and look ahead. It gives me time to offer up the burdens and griefs of the past year and turn toward the invitations to light and life in the year to come. Here are some of the questions I’m asking:
- What gave me life and joy and hope this past year?
- When did I offer life and joy and hope to others this past year?
- How and where can I offer life and joy and hope in the year ahead?
- What distractions and actions turned me away from love this past year?
- When and why did I experience grief, anger, and fear?
- When did I cause grief, anger, or fear?
- Do I need to ask forgiveness of anyone, of God, or of myself?
- Do I need to do any work of repair?
- What do I need to say no to this year? (especially if I want to say yes to other things… see the next question)
- What do I want to say yes to this year?
And now on to my 2024 favorites…
BOOKS
Non-Fiction
Slow Productivity by Cal Newport.
This self-help book includes lots of terrific stories to get at three points: do fewer things, work at a natural pace, and obsess over quality. I left it encouraged and empowered to approach my work differently by dividing my time into projects and tasks, working on fewer things at one time, and trusting that good things will emerge from the work, even when it takes a long time.
The Serviceberry by Robin Wall Kimmerer.
This small, easy-to-read book is a delightful and challenging reminder of our interdependence. Kimmerer imagines a world in which our human relationships mirror the way of nature, where we approach one another from the perspective of abundance, reciprocity and gift.
Four Thousand Weeks by Oliver Burkeman.
An appropriate companion to Slow Productivity, Oliver Burkeman underscores the point that yes, it (life/everything) is always too much. He explains that philosophers looking at humans and our relationship to time agree: “…the core challenge of managing our limited time isn’t about how to get everything done–that’s never going to happen–but how to decide most wisely what not to do, and how to feel at peace about not doing it.”
Cultures of Growth by Mary C. Murphy.
For anyone interested in how the idea of “fixed” and “growth” mindsets affect communities (and not just individuals), this book is a fascinating read with implications for personal and institutional life.
The Anxious Generation by Jonathan Haidt.
Haidt’s mega-bestseller claims that we have: “overprotected children in the real world and underprotected them in the virtual world.” Haidt’s analysis helps put data to our experience, but what was most helpful to me in reading this book is his insistence that a phone-based life does spiritual harm. The disembodied, asynchronous, self-centered world of social media and internet entertainment and material consumption pulls us away from some of our most crucial needs. Instead of being pulled down through screens, he says we need to be “lifted up”—through friendships and experiences of awe and moments of transcendence.
Memoir
Blessed Are the Rest of Us by Micha Boyett.
I’ve always loved Micha’s writing (her Slow Way newsletter is one of my favorite Substacks), and this book does not disappoint. She weaves together her experiences as a mother, with Ace, her son with a dual diagnosis of Down syndrome and autism, and her exploration of the Beatitudes, Jesus’ words of blessing. Beautiful, profound, moving. It’s a great one. (You can learn more in my conversation with Micha here.)
It. Goes. So. Fast. by Mary Louise Kelly.
For anyone with high school or college-aged kids, this is a great read about the years just before the empty nest by NPR correspondent Mary Louise Kelly.
The Buddhist on Death Row by David Sheff.
A fascinating first-person account of a man convicted of murder who converts to Buddhism and seeks to live differently.
Lovely One: A Memoir by Ketanji Brown Jackson.
I don’t always remember that Supreme Court Justices have personal lives. But in this memoir, Jackson walks us through the complications of recognizing the needs of her older daughter, Talia, who is autistic, as well as pursuing career dreams with two loving and highly capable and ambitious working parents.
Being Heumann by Judith Heumann.
I’ve heard Judith Heumann’s name for years because she was such a significant member of the disability rights movement. Her memoir is funny, witty, and infuriating. For anyone who likes memoirs and who might be interested in learning—without feeling like you’re really learning too much—I recommend Being Heumann as an entry point into disability history disguised as a memoir.
The Country of the Blind by Andrew Leland.
Andrew Leland’s exploration of his own story of blindness as well as the broader social and historical context of blindness was both poignant and fascinating. I learned so much, and I appreciated the way he wrestled with the beauty and hardship of life with a disability. (You can learn more in my conversation with Andrew here.)
A Measure of Intelligence by Pepper Stetler.
Stetler weaves together her own story as the mother of a child with Down syndrome, and her deep dive into the history of the IQ test and our social obsession with intelligence. (You can learn more in my conversation with Pepper here.)
An Ordinary Future by Tom Pearson.
Anthropologist and father Tom Pearson learned his daughter Michaela had Down syndrome after she was born, and his initial reaction was to reject her. He fairly quickly fell in love with her, and instead of rejecting her, he began to reject the ideas that had shaped him into someone who didn’t have an imagination for a good life for someone like Michaela. This is another fascinating exploration of the history of anthropology and the story of a father and his child. (You can learn more in my conversation with Tom here.)
Fiction
Touching Spirit Bear by Ben Mikaelsen.
Fifteen-year-old Cole is banished to an island after he severely injures a classmate at school. This survival story is about reckoning with his family, and with himself, on a path to greater self-awareness and acceptance. That all makes it sound kind of fluffy and vague, but I loved the way it embodied themes of resilience and the need for a mind/body/spirit integration. (Disclaimer: there are a few super violent scenes in the beginning of the book.)
Our Missing Hearts by Celeste Ng.
Celeste Ng’s Our Missing Hearts is the dystopian story of a young boy searching for his mother. This beautiful and haunting meditation on what happens when the state controls our families and the power of art as protest stuck with me all year. (This is a great one for teenagers.)
The Storied Life of A. J. Fikry by Gabrielle Zevin.
I couldn’t sleep the other night, so I downloaded this book on Kindle and raced through half of it. The good news was, I really love the characters and the story. It’s charming and winsome and sad and sweet, and most of it takes place in a bookstore. The bad news is that it was far too interesting to put me to sleep!
The Frozen River by Ariel Lawhon.
This riveting murder mystery set in the 1700s, is told from the perspective of a woman who serves as a midwife to her community. Even better—it is based on the journals of a real midwife and offers a fascinating look at New England culture in the 18th century.
MOVIES
The Holdovers.
Okay, The Holdovers was nominated for Best Picture by the Oscars, and I want to submit that it is a deeply Christian film about disruptive grace. (For more of my thoughts, go here…)
Wildcat.
I also finally had a chance to watch Wildcat, Ethan Hawke’s film about Flannery O’Connor. It was weird and arresting and challenging and contained everything I love (and also kind of hate) about O’Connor’s writing. If you want to challenge your assumptions about the good life, this film is a great place to start!
Rustin.
I’ve never even thought about the amount of organizing that needed to happen in order for the march on Washington to take place. Rustin tells that story with intimacy and depth through the experience of Bayard Rustin, the lead organizer. This film prompted me to ask questions about what I believe and how I am willing to put those beliefs into practice.
Nyad.
The amazing true story of Diana Nyad’s determination to swim from Cuba to Florida offers such a visual commentary on the power of mindset to overcome obstacles. And Annette Benning and Jodie Foster are awesome in it.
DOCUMENTARIES
Daughters.
This film follows a group of girls and their dads—the dads are all imprisoned—and their reunion at a father/daughter dance within the prison walls. This story underlines the terrible injustices of our prison system, even as it offers a beautiful story of love and hope.
Greatest Night in Pop.
Okay, for anyone born in the 70s, watching the footage of dozens of the pop and rock stars who gathered to record “We are the World” is just so cool. And the feat of imagination and coordination it took to pull this off is also worth watching.
The Disruptors.
What makes a disorder a disorder? Does it harm us to label each other with disorders? Or does it help us to identify areas where people need support? The Disruptors, a recent documentary, helped me understand the particularities of ADHD, attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. This film raised great questions about how we label ourselves and construct identities.
Show/Series
All the Light We Cannot See.
Set in France at the end of WWII, this series (based on the bestselling novel) is riveting in a high-stakes plot and sympathetic characters. It also contains an awesome, subversive message about disability and, ultimately, about humanity. (Read more thoughts here…)
Your Favorites and Questions
What have you loved in 2024? What questions are you asking to end this year and start the next?
Get my favorites delivered to your inbox each month!
Subscribe here!
