Hey, Can You...?

February 2025 || Just when we think we can't.

But I know—I know—I know—
this isn't the end of the poem—
in spite of the lovely slant swash
of brush and off and wash. This isn't the end for me.

Home is here, down the hall, up the stairs
in unmade beds. Dirty dishes and books. Babies with snarled hair.
There are words here to arrange, following more words
lines marching one by one
like the ants my children love.
- Excerpt from "Unwriter" by Margaret Ann Silver

---

The other night, I dropped a car full of kids off at youth group, and despite the marathon (relay?) day it had been shuttling everyone (and taxes) all over town, I couldn’t help but feel a wave of gratitude come over me when I pulled in to park.

Just when I think I can’t.

Outside the car, I chatted with a neighbor friend I only met in the fall thanks to our new school community. “It’s a blessing isn’t it?” she asked, as a fog of vanilla and amber wafted off the girls spilling out of her car. With tears in my tired eyes, I could only nod the unspoken “It’s everything I’ve hoped for.”

Just when I think I can’t.

In the list of the things I think about myself, dependable hardly makes the cut. There are many reasons for this, some enough to fill my maybe-someday memoir. But for now, what I’m learning, is that it’s a beautiful thing to be needed and counted on. Why then, the restlessness?

Just when I think I can’t.

Some days turn into weeks and then whole months when there go my wants to navigate the needs of others. The kind of season when:

• medicine baskets clutter the counter more days than they don’t

• I could make honeyed, mint tea in my sleep

• I kiss hot foreheads and wipe away warm tears

• I pull late nights to explore exponential equations or finally get in the walk that’s been waiting for me all day

• the words just have to wait…

Just when I think I can’t.

Maybe I’ve spent the better part of the month outside my window of tolerance. But not so outside that I can’t find my way back. Sometimes, I want caring for myself well to feel effortless, but I always — in the midst of it — end up remembering it’s work. Work I don’t always want to do, but must. It’s resourcing oneself (often, thank God, through others) and choosing to believe you can when it’s necessary, and give yourself space enough to consider when you simply… can’t.

Aundi Kolber’s Strong Like Water comes back to me time and again in seasons like the one in which we’ve been this month. I could not recommend her model for understanding the value of all kinds of strength while moving more towards integrated strength and healing.

I’m learning to accept that this right now — the caretaking, the extra plates at the table, the favors for (and from) friends, the narrowed windows of time and tolerance, the people counting on me — is the opportunity I’ve been praying for, all along. More than any other thing I could work toward, right now, my “yes!” is for the girl inside me trying to make up for all her lost “no”s.

To her, I whisper, everyday: “Honey, we can do this, okay?”

Just when we think we can’t.

I’ve been mulling a bit over the things I think are worth sharing at month’s end. While I personally love a link-fest and being exposed to and learning new things, in my own life I often feel the weight of so. many. tabs. open. I then hesitate in my own sharing, wondering if I’m only adding to the attention deficit many of us experience.

I want what I share to be worth your limited and priceless attention, though I recognize the choice to click through or not is yours, in the end. I love to discover and uncover — to find threads and themes — but its not for everyone! So for now, I’ll keep sharing things I’ve loved, but I’m renaming this sometimes evolving segment to keep me mindful of what’s…

• For Christmas, I bought tickets for Cliff and I to see Hans Zimmer Live earlier this month. From the bagpipes on Dune’s “House Atreides” to Inception’s entrancing “Time,” the journey through Hans Zimmer’s work was unreal, but even more so the talent of the cadre of performers. The album’s been on repeat since.

• I’ve thought many times about the story Zimmer told that night of sidling up next to friend and fellow wallflower Christopher Nolan at a party one evening. The filmmaker asked the composer if he sent him a letter, would he write a song for it in return? Thus, Interstellar was born.

• This month our oldest completed her Science Fair project on similarities (and differences!) in compositions of songs from her favorite movies. It got me thinking a lot about how I could never rank my favorite composers or scores, but I’m always looking and listening for what Ludwig Göransson and Bear McCreary are up to next. (Word is, Göransson’s scoring Nolan’s 2026 The Odyssey and McCreary actually had new b-sides and demos come out this week from his concept project — which he started writing at 15 — that came out last year!)

• Earlier this month, I came across a BBC Radio 2’s (remember last month?!) Piano Room performance of Coldplay covering The Proclaimers’ (ALSO last month?!) “Sunshine on Leith” and from there, ended up watching thousands of Hibs fans (Edinburgh, Scotland’s Hibernian Football Club) sing to their team after their 2016 Scottish Cup win — their first in 114 years. You don’t even have to like soccer to be utterly moved by that kind of love and loyalty.

• I’ve gotten my fill of storytellers through music, this month, but my own storytelling (what little writing I’ve been able to do! but I have!) has been soundtracked by several new (to me) Scottish contemporary folk bands I’ve been enjoying. Standouts have been: Talisk, Rura (I cannot explain what happens in my heart when I listen to this song):

  as well as Ímar, Breabach, and Dàimh (who just had a new single release last week):

• On Monday, I’m beginning my annual digital fast (in tandem with my church community’s 28-day digital fast and

  Ruth Gaskovski
  and
  Peco
  ’s Communal Digital Fast during the entire Lenten period). There are many ways to go about a break from devices, but for almost anyone I’d recommend taking a peek at Ruth and Peco’s plan and resources for this year (their unmachining assessment is GOLD) — having support and community for this kind of experience makes all the difference. I recognize (and have experienced) the limitations of these types of fasts or detoxes for longterm change (given the systemic issues at hand), but I’ve never once regretted the commitment to taking one. I’ve come a long way in my digital life the last few years, and who knows where we could be come April 20?

Fittingly, this Air Mail was drafted on paper during an hour and a half break between school drop-offs and tutorial volunteering, typed up in the hour I had between soccer practice drop-off and pick-up, and edited and embellished while the kids ran in and out of the house on their thousandth day off from school so far in 2025 (this one, though, was planned).

We’re making it, aren’t we?

Just when we think we can’t.

Your Little Blue Engine,