Trying to Do Nothing
RECS #38: Lessons from a weekend in Boston; Palestinian food in Beacon; and bubbly, sprightly Vampire Weekend.
Dear friends,
I’ve been thinking and talking a lot about Jia Tolentino’s recent piece about her broken brain, mostly because my brain and body and general vibe feels broken lately, too. Wherever I am, my mind is often somewhere else. And wherever I am, my hand is more often than not reaching for my phone. The simultaneous dwindling of my attention span and rising phone addiction has not been lost on me, so I’ve been trying to make a concerted effort to slow down and allow myself to find the benefits of boredom.
This past weekend, I drove up to Boston to visit Sophie whose cozy life in the suburbs remains aspirational for me for so many reasons. The two times I’ve visited, I’ve left feeling refreshed and rested in a way I’m often chasing at home. It’s not so much the place—I have no desire to leave the city—as it is the pace and style of life that she’s cultivated. Here, I wake up most mornings in a frenzied confrontation with everything that needs to get done and the reality that most of it won’t. There, we eased into the day, allowing ourselves time to wholly wake up before deciding how much we actually wanted to do. We cooked, went for walks, spent leisurely evenings with her friends, and slept a lot. It was nice and very needed.



READING: The most obvious and literal way I’ve been trying to unlearn my bad habits is by belatedly reading Jenny Odell’s 2019 book “How to Do Nothing.” I left my copy in Boston, so I’ll have to wait to finish it, but I’m struck by the book’s prescience. Written during Trump’s first administration, it’s not exactly surprising to see parallels to now, but the ills she diagnoses have only become more pervasive. The sentiment that underscores most of what I’ve read so far argues that refusal—or a conscious decision to reject the demands of the attention economy—will allow us to ground ourselves in reality and better attend to the tangible world in front of us.
EATING: In an attempt to spend a day mostly offline last week, Conor and I drove up to Beacon where we meandered into shoppy shops, picked through a used bookstore, marveled at the ecosystems that exist in waterfalls, and played chess at a near-empty brewery. Before we headed back into the city, we sat down for a late afternoon snack at Ziatun, a Palestinian restaurant on Main Street. We ordered their gigantic medley of dips and snacks, as well as za’atar fries and warm grape leaves. We couldn’t finish all of it, but I wish I had a bottomless stomach. Their hummus, babaganoush, and falafel were some of the best I’ve ever had. I’d also be remiss not to mention the two barbecues I attended over Memorial Day weekend—one, sitting on Sophie’s lovely patio among her smart and kind friends from grad school, and the other, basking in the sun that shone over Venice’s backyard. I devoured many hot dogs, hamburgers, slices of watermelon, and handfuls of chips. It was wonderful.


CONSUMING: At Mighty Squirrel, a brewery with a few locations in Boston, I ordered a fruited IPA. It was a sweet, hoppy, and hearty beer, and I went back for seconds. I think that this summer is the summer of refreshing beers, so I’m trying to figure out the most reliable order. Some IPAs are too heavy and some sours are too syrupy. This was just the right combination of both. Otherwise, I’ve been playing Vampire Weekend’s self-titled album on repeat because it’s bubbly and makes for great walking-around music. I’ve also been watching, whenever I have the time, “Planet Earth,” which I haven’t seen since my mom made us watch it when I was a kid. I think all of its grandeur and beauty was lost on me then. Now I text Conor every time I learn a new fun fact about a faraway and surprising creature. I feel like a kid again every time I learn something new about the world we inhabit.
SAVORING: The past few months have been hard on me mentally, but I do finally feel like I’m reaching the other side of the mountain. So for now, I’m savoring that relief—and all the moments of joy that come with it: walking through the woods with Sophie and Nellie; seeing Fran Leibowitz on Seventh Avenue; sun poking through the clouds when rain was forecasted to last all day; laughing about my terrible push-up form with Conor; drinks in the 1WTC cafeteria with my coworkers; driving to Carroll Gardens while “Brat” blasted on the speakers; cooking myself a hearty, creamy pasta on a dreary night in; spending the weekend with my extended family for my sister’s graduation; the black label burger at Minetta Tavern. And many more moments that are still yet to come.
Until next time,
Erin
As always, I love your writing. And I love the few minutes that I can get lost in the fun, adventurous life you share in your essays. It's the best part of my weekend so far!