the key to Everything

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hey friends,

this week’s story surprised me!

a clever girl is the third version of itself. while this is the Truest of the three versions, it’s also the one that leaves me the least satisfied. however, i don’t believe that i have the right to withhold Truth from you just because It doesn’t always make me feel like sunshine and rainbows—the two of which, by the way, cannot appear simultaneously without at least a little bit of rain—this week’s story being the proverbial rain.

may all of your rainstorms end in rainbows,

-SN

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the story

a clever girl

i’m lost:

in a gilded glassed mirrored palatial place

walls doors chandeliers pass glints of light

back and forth amongst themselves in glittering halls

the light laughs a tinkling tune

enjoying being tossed about

the scent of outdated opulence

and the taste of aging-but-still-held dreams

sit suspended in the still air

and then i come to a door:

crystalline

prismatic

glowing

slightly

framed with an arched bas-relief’s

petrified retelling of stories

i was once told

about who

i could

be

the storytelling plaster

floating like a ribbon

in an upside-down u

embracing the door

that now compels

my scattered

attention

to focus

on it

and on what’s beyond it:

through the door’s

transfixing translucency

i see a key:

shimmering

in the sunlight

that i’ve been blind to

while i’ve been in this place

while the light from an unseen source

laughs (at me) and plays tricks (with me)

the key sits on top of a minimal marbled podium

like an exhibited masterpiece on a museum’s plinth

and then:

panic

i have to get to it

but

the door’s brass knob

won’t turn

omg

it’s locked

omg!

that’s the key!

to this door!

frustration

fury

no no no

you don’t understand

you see all at once i understand

that key

is what i’ve been lost without

and now i’ve found it but it’s out there!

with it i can escape this place

(with it i can escape me)

i need to get out

i need to get to it

i bang on the door

i kick the door

i scream at the door

fists feet

fits of rage

bang bang bang

every purpose i’ve ever had

coalesces into one:

the key

even though:

it dawns on me later

that if i get out

i won’t need

the key

but anyway:

everything

everything

everything

that i’ve ever needed

to become

is out there

so i have to

leave…

hours:

sobbing

days:

cursing

weeks:

begging

Someone

Time:

passes

…

Once upon a time:

A girl found a door to her Everything. She knew that One Day she would question things that had already been answered. So she decided to protect her One Day self. She was a clever girl. Before entering the place that the door kept safe, she locked its brass knob and left the key outside. That way, her One Day self would never be able to escape her Everything.

So freaking clever.

the conversation

the questions

is there a yesterday version of yourself to whom you’re being loyal today? does that loyalty need to be called into question?

the curation

we have a J.R.R. Tolkien theme this week—

• among so many other reasons why fans of Middle Earth stories are not so keen on Amazon’s Rings of Power—perhaps because it’s not even fantasy?

• there is a joke about Amazon’s leadership in this hilarious sketch about immigrating to Middle Earth.

• a new graphic novel explores the relationship between Tolkien and C.S. Lewis based on some true stories about their experiences together—including a diary entry from Lewis describing Tolkien as “a smooth, pale, fluent little chap… No harm in him: only needs a smack or so.” (paywall-free)

the song and the reading

i’m going to chat about what these two sections will look like (for the moment!) at the end of next week’s conversation.

until then, if i were being honest about the song i’ve been playing on repeat this week, it’s “C” is for Cookie by… well… Cookie Monster, haha! so… yeah… i mean the track is a bop, and it needs no defending. for what i will call “context” my fifteen-month-old son smiles in the carseat mirror whenever we’re driving and it comes on Apple Music’s Sesame Street Essentials playlist. for that reason alone, it’s one of my favorite songs, not just of this week, but like, ever.

and i’m still reading and loving Intermezzo, but it’s become a more ~complicated~ love…

uh… more next week! :)

the good stuff

can grief be beautiful?

i hadn’t thought so until i read about a woman who visits a Tube station every day to hear three words—“mind the gap”—recorded by her late husband. someone else must have found beauty in her grief—in her love—because they produced a short film about her daily visit to her late husband’s voice.

i’m beginning to learn that good stuff and bad stuff are not always so clearly demarcated.

the resonance

i had a conversation with one of you in person earlier this week about this newsletter.

you know who you are, and i want you to know that i will remember your words and that moment—like so many other words and moments that we’ve shared over the decades(!!)—for the rest of my life.

the following words may appear meager, but please know how much meaning they carry: thank you.

the affirmations

you were clever then

you are clever now

you know more now

than you knew then

with all that gilded glassed and mirrored stuff

you can make a new freaking key

give new answers

to old questions

define and design

a new Everything

i won’t ever be able to thank you enough for reading.

still:

thank you (again) for reading.

—Sarah Narei