Author: Wendy Kennar

A Look Back at Six Months of Books

Posted on by Wendy Kennar

Since it’s the first week of July, I thought now would be a good time to pause and take a look at some of my favorite reads from the first half of the year. 

January:  Katherine Center’s The Bodyguard. I LOVE Katherine Center’s books. When she publishes a novel, I know I’m going to purchase it. She writes books that make you feel. Books that make you laugh. Books that are about people who experience hard times and then find a way to get back up. Books that you know will all end up okay in the end. (Side note – Hello Stranger will be published next week on July 11th. I have already pre-ordered it!)

February:  At the end of February I started reading Claire Cook’s Walk the Talk, the fourth book in her The Wildwater Walking Club series. There’s something so pleasing, so reassuring about coming back to characters you know from previous books.

March:  Everything Happens for a Reason: And Other Lies I’ve Loved by Kate Bowler.  Ms. Bowler is … a force. Of grace. Of compassion. Of humor. Of authenticity. Of heart.

April:  Thank you to Tara Schuster and her first book, Buy Yourself the F*cking Lilies: And Other Rituals to Fix Your Life From Someone Who’s Been There. It was the book I needed to read and I didn’t know it. And now, her newest book — Glow in the F*cking Dark — sits on my bookcase, waiting for me; a gift from one of my closest friends.

May:  This Time Next Year by Sophie Cousens – a fun, super-enjoyable read! (I also recommend her novel Just Haven’t Met You Yet and in my to-be-read pile is her other novel  Before I Do.)

June:  I finished reading Braided by Beth Ricanati at the end of June. It’s a book I’m still thinking about. In fact, I admit to checking out a couple of videos on YouTube featuring Ms. Ricanati not just discussing her book, but baking challah at the same time. 

Readers, any books you’ve read during the first half of 2023 that you loved? Enjoyed? Learned from? Please share!!

Please note: I am including a link to buy the books that I’m mentioning this week.  If you use my link, I do make a small commission on your purchase at no additional cost to you.  I have chosen to affiliate with Bookshop.org, which also sends a portion of the profit to support local, independent bookstores. 

Braided

Posted on by Wendy Kennar

I am not a baker. Meaning, I’m not a multiple-ingredients, multi-step-recipe kind of baker.

I’m more a Ghirardelli-Dark-Chocolate-Brownie-Mix (which only requires three ingredients) type of baker. 

However, I was so intrigued by the premise of Braided: A Journey of a Thousand Challahs by Beth Ricanati, MD. (And I was tickled to learn that before her challah-baking, Ms. Ricanati counted her brownies, made from a Ghirardelli brownie mix, as her specialty.)

Here’s part of the description from the back cover:

“What if you could bake bread once a week, every week? And what if the act of making bread — mixing and kneading, watching and waiting — could heal your sense of being overwhelmed? It can. This is the surprise that physician-mother Beth Ricanati learned when she started baking challah: that simply stopping and baking bread was the best medicine she could prescribe for women in a fast-paced world.”

And here are some of the passages I marked while reading:

“Actions always speak louder than words: our children absorb and learn by watching us, not necessarily listening to us.”

“This was a big lesson for me. It took making challah again and again to realize that when something goes wrong, it is not always because I did something wrong. ‘Sorry’ used to be one of my favorite words. A guy friend of mine bet me in high school that I couldn’t stop saying sorry. ‘Sorry,’ I replied. Alas, reflexively, I still want to blame myself first, to assume that I must have done something wrong.”

“Waiting for the yeast to proof exercises more than patience. Waiting also exercises humility. It’s the greatest of all character traits, according to the Talmud. Humility supplants the ego, pushes away the tendency for self-centeredness. With humility comes the ability to have empathy.” 

“We can’t always be happy. Sometimes happiness is taken from us. Sometimes terrible things really do go bump in the night. While painting challah with a red-tipped brush may seem childish, may seem frivolous, I look forward to this with almost too much glee. In fact, whenever possible, I insist on doing this step myself, instead of handing it over to a child or a friend or anyone else. I want the reminder. I want the physical reminder that when we have the choice to be happy, we have to grab it. We have to take it and own and cherish it. It is not always ours to choose.”

“I found in making challah that the magic for me is in the process of making challah. No ends-justify-the-means here. What happened as I went through the eleven steps each Friday in this challah recipe is where I really learned to be present. To slow down for a moment each week. To appreciate the here and now. To reconnect with women. I found through these eleven steps that challah is the ultimate soul food for me.
“It was here all the time, I just didn’t see it. I was so concerned with doing the right thing all the time, being the right person at the right time, that I had unknowingly lost the enjoyment, the fabulousness of the here and now.”

Please note: I am including a link to buy the book that I’m highlighting this week. If you use my link, I do make a small commission on your purchase at no additional cost to you. I am working with Bookshop.org which also sends a portion of the profit to support local, independent bookstores.

Still Going

Posted on by Wendy Kennar

One year ago, my family and I were in Maui. (If you missed it, you can read my post about our fantastic trip by clicking here. My son took this photo during our zip lining adventure.)

This year, we’re in the almost-done-planning stage of our summer trip, happening later this summer. (I’ll be writing about this summer’s trip in a blog post next month. Stay tuned!)

If I’m being honest, I do have to admit that I am a bit worried.

The truth is I’m very good at keeping it all together, of making my life, my family’s life, look like everything is under control. Because it is — in many ways. But I’m also dealing with incredible amounts of daily pain. I’m trying to get through my days while struggling with high levels of fatigue, unexpected muscle twitches, and knees that make bending painful.

Will I come home feeling more intense pain than I did before the trip? Maybe. But also, maybe not. 

Will I have hours during our trip when my left leg will feel wobbly and shaky like Jello on a dessert plate? Maybe, but maybe not. 

Two family members have voiced their concerns about the trip. “Won’t it be too much for you?” I was asked.

“Probably,” I answered.

But we’re still going. I am not going to let my chronic illness stop me. 

The Need for Romance Novels

Posted on by Wendy Kennar

A friend of mine and I were talking about the appeal of reading romance novels. More than the appeal — the need we have to read romance novels. 

There is the teacher in me that sincerely believes almost all reading is beneficial (with the exception of awful, hate-fueled reading material). Pure and simple, just like you know drinking water is good for you, reading is good for you too. Reading keeps your mind working. Reading strengthens your vocabulary. Most importantly, I believe reading helps us learn about others. Reading gives us the opportunity to step into less-familiar worlds, and as a result, we have more understanding, more empathy for others. 

Reading romance does all that and more. 

Here are a few reasons why I read romance novels:

  1. Romance novels are predictable in the best way. I don’t have to worry when reading a romance. I’m not nervous or scared while reading. I know things will work out okay, more-than-okay, for the main characters. I can read in a relaxed way, certain there will be a satisfying, leave-me-smiling type of ending.
  2. Romance novels are not work. Reading some books feels like work. They have statistics and dates. Big words and lengthy chapters. Much symbolism and complicated plot lines. Romance novels are a lot easier in that regard, though I do still sometimes find myself looking up a new-to-me word. In a romance, there is no complicated information to process and keep track of as the story goes on.
  3. Romance novels are an escape. I can take a temporary break from real life — the lightbulb that just went out in the bathroom, the plants that need watering, the prescription I need to refill — and slip into another world where I don’t have to do anything. I can just read. And I can do it anywhere. A few pages while standing in line at CVS. Several pages in the car while waiting for my son to be dismissed from school. A few chapters at my neighborhood cafe. 
  4. Romance novels are reminders.  The specifics vary from novel to novel. The age, race, and gender of the characters may differ from our own. But it doesn’t matter. Because the emotions are the same. Reading a romance is a powerful reminder that human beings are more alike than we are different. 
  5. Romance novels provide the opportunity to reframe our perspective. The truth is the world is scary, unpredictable, and messy. And usually when we think about that, we focus on the negative. But, if you slow down, you realize that opening yourself up to another person, falling in love, and maintaining a romantic relationship can also be described as scary, unpredictable, and messy — in the best possible way.

I recently finished reading The Proposal by Jasmine Guillroy and have to share this passage with you:

“WAS THIS WHAT LOVE WAS?

Being happy when you thought about someone; wanting to never stop thinking about them, even when you were fighting; having every damn thing in the grocery store remind you of them, from diapers to sour cream; wanting to be a better writer and friend and person because of how they were and how they made you feel; wanting to be with them, all the time, even though you kept fighting it.”

Readers, I’m curious. Do you read romance novels? 

If you do, feel free to share why you read them. And if you have any favorites you’d like to recommend, please do so.

If you don’t, feel free to share why you don’t read romances and tell me about what you enjoy reading instead.

Affiliate links:  Please note, I have included a link to buy the book that I’m quoting from.  If you do use my link, I will make a small commission on your purchase at no additional cost to you.  I have chosen to affiliate with Bookshop.org, which also sends a portion of the profit to support local, independent bookstores. It is my hope that you will choose to support them in their mission to “help local, independent bookstores thrive in the age of ecommerce.”

My What If Year

Posted on by Wendy Kennar

Do you ever think about other careers you might have had? Other choices you might have made? Other paths you might have taken?

And what if you had the chance to put much of your current-daily-real-life on pause and try out one of those unchosen careers? Would you take the chance to explore?

Alisha Fernandez Miranda did! And she wrote a memoir about it called My What If Year. 

From the back cover of the book:  “Delightfully irreverent, My What If Year recounts the adventures of a successful, Latina CEO and mother of twins who — on the cusp of turning forty — takes a break from her job for one year to explore the dream careers she never pursued. Alisha’s hilarious internship adventure takes her to Broadway, the London art scene, a posh Scottish hotel, and the workout world.”

Such a fun read! Here are a few of my favorite passages:

During her first internship, Ms. Miranda writes:  “How long had it been since I had been happy? For so long I thought the pursuit of happiness had been what was guiding me, but now I wasn’t so sure.” 

“I had no regrets, but it dawned on me that maybe my internship adventure, was, in a way, about revisiting that time of my life, a time when all the pages ahead were blank and unwritten.”

“Leaning into my strengths let me ignore my weaknesses. Yes, it allowed me to achieve and find success in the things I was good at. But I was starting to question whether I needed to be spending more time nurturing those tiny seeds of things I was terrible at — serving dinner, for example — to see if maybe they might blossom into something more, given some effort and some mistakes. Maybe it didn’t matter if it was ‘the best’ if I was doing something I loved. I didn’t even know what being the best meant anymore in this new world.”

“Truthfully, I was looking forward to seeing everyone. I was no longer as afraid of being subsumed in these other identities and knew that the core of who I was, or whoever I was figuring out I wanted to be, at least, was strong enough to stand on its own. In fact, the heft of my obligations no longer seemed overpowering; I had started to feel comforted by them, like a weighted blanket that kept me grounded.”

“ ‘Joy’ — such a simple, small word that holds so much complexity. It’s more than happiness. It’s ebullience. It’s celebration. A party all day, every day, where everyone is invited. People think joy is elusive, and they’re right; its impermanence is what makes it all the more important to cultivate, nurture, and appreciate it whenever it comes your way.” 

“But as I aged, I came to know that nothing is guaranteed. If you wanted to enjoy as much of life as possible, you had to put some intentionality behind seeking joy. You had to pay attention. If you didn’t it was likely to slip through your fingers.” 

“I didn’t want to have to keep taking side paths and then retracing my steps back to the main road. I wanted the detours to be the main road. Over the past few months, I had finally gotten, for brief moments in time, the chance to be the versions of myself I had seen in the shadows of my memories. I loved the chance to step into their shoes, but I didn’t want to be any of them, really. I wanted to be original me, but with the freedom to take the pieces from each and carry them with me as I continued on ahead.”

“One of the things I appreciated most about being an intern was the ability to not feel overwhelmed by my mental load. Making space meant that, all of a sudden, my brain had more room to think about other things and to consider other possibilities. Ideas for new projects sprang up like daffodils in the springtime. There was a lot in there that had been obscured by the constant to-do lists. My internships had given me a chance to see those things clearly.”

“I didn’t know much about what the next chapter of my life would hold, but I knew I needed to embody the spirit of being an intern in whatever I did: be adaptable; learn to fail; be okay with not being the best; let go of the plan sometimes; and above all, listen, learn, and find joy in every day.” 

Please note: I am including a link to buy the book that I’m highlighting this week. If you use my link, I do make a small commission on your purchase at no additional cost to you. I am working with Bookshop.org which also sends a portion of the profit to support local, independent bookstores.

(I apologize if any part of this week’s blog format looks strange. There may be a number or letter randomly showing up. Please, let’s just pretend it’s not there.)

Every Day Resilience

Posted on by Wendy Kennar

“Living with an autoimmune disease has caused me to re-define words I thought I knew. Words I thought I understood. Words like strength, weakness, and pain don’t mean what they once did. Their definitions have grown and expanded, because living with a chronic illness causing chronic pain is hard. And I’m doing it every day.”

The paragraph above is an excerpt from my personal essay, “Every Day Resilience.” I am pleased to share that my essay has been published in Fahmidan Journal Issue 15: Thyroid and Autoimmune Warriors. You can click here to read it in its entirety.

Saving My Tears

Posted on by Wendy Kennar

The other morning, as I drove home, I heard the song “Save Your Tears” by The Weeknd on the radio. I had taken myself to my favorite neighborhood cafe for some outdoor reading and writing time. 

“Save Your Tears” is a song I’ve heard a fair amount of times. Usually it’s a song I listen to, a song I enjoy. But this time, it actually brought me to tears. 

I parked the car and sat inside for a bit. I didn’t want to run the risk of seeing any of my neighbors, I didn’t want to have to try and explain why I was crying, because I wasn’t quite sure. 

I don’t think it was any one thing.

Actually, there were a number of reasons I could have been crying. 

For over two weeks now, I’ve been dealing with a pinched nerve, which at its worst led to tingling down my arm, into my right hand and fingers. It has created pain and tightness in my neck/shoulder area. It has made everyday things like brushing my teeth and washing my face harder to do. But that wasn’t why I was crying.

Since my son’s high school hosted Open House, about a month ago, I have had extreme pain in both my knees. It’s difficult to bend and pick up something that I dropped. It’s too painful to squat and pull weeds out of my garden. So I plop down onto the sidewalk and weed my garden and then have to figure out a way to get back up. But that wasn’t why I was crying either.

I think it was the lyrics, the simple repetition of “Save your tears for another day.” 

Because I do that, all the time. I save my tears for another day or another part of the day. I stop myself from crying in the Ralphs parking lot, as I load our bags of groceries into the car. I don’t cry as I unlock our front door, but wait until I get inside where no one can see me or hear me. 

And that is the bottom line — where no one can see me or hear me. Because it’s been my experience that me crying — out of pain, or fear, or frustration, or weariness — makes those around me uncomfortable. Which means on top of me trying to take care of myself and let the tears out, I’m left trying to soothe and reassure my family while downplaying my tears and whatever it was that caused me to cry in the first place.

Except. 

Except the other day during my virtual therapy session. I cried. I cried multiple-Kleenex, nose-running, red-blotchy-eyes kind of crying. Because I generally keep everything in. I am so good at biting my tongue. At keeping my stoic game face on. At not letting on how hurt I really am. How much pain I really feel. And how much help I need.

I wouldn’t say I felt “better” after my crying session. But I definitely didn’t feel worse, either.

The Healing Journal

Posted on by Wendy Kennar

I recently finished working my way through Emily Suñez’s beautiful book The Healing Journal: Guided Prompts and Inspiration for Life with Illness.

If you read my blog on a regular basis, you might remember that twice before my blog posts were inspired by prompts in this lovely book. (You can read “I Am Alive With Creativity” by clicking here, and “My Illness Does Not Define Me” by clicking here.)

I finished reading the book and answering the writing prompts, but I haven’t finished healing. And that’s part of what makes life with a chronic illness so complicated. You never really completely heal from a chronic illness. 

There is no finish line. No specific treatment plan in place, that once you work through all the steps you’re “better.” It doesn’t work that way for me. It doesn’t work that way for a lot of people. There is no ideal world of “fully healed” to strive for. 

What I have found in the more than-a-decade that I have lived with my autoimmune disease, is that healing is a continuous process. Just as my symptoms go through periods of flares and remission, my feelings about my invisible disability ebb and flow as well.

My illness, and my healing, will forever be a part of me.

Buy Yourself the F*cking Lilies

Posted on by Wendy Kennar

Sometimes you come across a book that you didn’t realize you needed to read until you’re in the middle of reading it, and you notice you’re running low on sticky notes because so many pages need to be marked.

That was my experience reading Buy Yourself the F*cking Lilies: And Other Rituals to Fix Your Life From Someone Who’s Been There by Tara Schuster.

Ms. Schuster’s book is another wonderful example of how writing the specific actually makes it universal. Ms. Schuster and I had extremely different childhoods. Our adult life experiences are quite different as well. I’m older than she is, married, and the mother of a fifteen-year-old son. Yet, I found so much to love in this book. So much that spoke to me. So much that said, “Wendy try this. Wendy, you need to do this. Wendy, pay attention to this part.” 

Here are just some of the passages that I found to be deserving of sticky notes:

“What you are about to read is a guide to healing your traumas, big and small, in the pursuit of creating a life you will adore and be proud of. You don’t need to have had a mess-wreck-disaster childhood like mine for these tools to work for you. These lessons in self-care will be useful even if you had super-stellar parents who nurtured the shit out of you. This book is for anyone who simply needs to take better care of themselves — anyone who wants to lead a life they choose, embrace, and fucking love.”

“But I decided it was time to stop comparing my pain to others’, time to quit telling myself that I shouldn’t feel this way, and time to start focusing on how I actually did feel, because that was real.” 

“Buy the fucking lilies. You are worth seven-dollar lilies. You are worth the thing that instantly makes your life better. I’ve heard people talk about their favorite exercise class this way. I’ve heard people talk about an order of guacamole with their tacos this way. I’ve heard people talk about the ten-dollar, ten-minute massage at the nail salon this way. That small, pleasurable thing that makes you feel like you are treating yourself — do not deprive yourself of this. Buy the fucking lilies, take the class, order the guac, get the massage.”

“Above all else: You are worth the lilies. The small, attainable luxury of lilies is not something to stress about, it is not something to deny yourself, it is something to make plans for and embrace. Small things that make you happy ARE a part of taking care of yourself. If you can’t put your money where your mouth is and say, ‘I am worth the lilies,’ or ‘I am worth six-dollar beef jerky’ or ‘I am worth the almond butter that makes me actually look forward to the morning,’ then why are you working so hard at your job anyway? Seven-dollar lilies won’t ruin you and they won’t make you poor; they will make you stronger. You are stronger when you treat yourself well. What are your lilies? Please go buy them today. If you feel weird about it at all, just blame me and then enjoy the fuck out of your flowers.” 

“What feeds your well? What’s the thing you love to do that makes your heart glad? Is it flower arranging? Is it people-watching at a café? Is it reading a book in a park without knowing what time it is? Is it going back to that dance class you used to love but for some reason stopped taking? What makes you so happy that it gives you rest and ease and feels so damn good that it sets your soul on fire with inspiration? These things that inspire us are often the easiest to lose sight of. We give them up because there is just so much ‘to do’ in a day. We are ‘very busy,’ after all. But you do not gain strength from denying yourself pleasure and being so serious about your life. Instead, keep your well full, and be astonished at the power, the motivation, the brilliance that you will inevitably find in the rest of your life.”

“What I have learned is that you are stronger when you give yourself incredible kindness.” 

Many more pages are marked with a peach-colored sticky note. In fact, Buy Yourself the F*cking Lilies inspired one of my April blog posts. (In case you missed it, you can read it by clicking here.)

There is just so much goodness in this book. Reading this book feels very much like having a super close friend right next to you, helping you to see your own wonderful-ness. A super close friend who wants you to see the sparkly brilliance within yourself. To which I say, “Thank you, Ms. Schuster. I’m working on it.” 

One additional note, Ms. Schuster has written a second book titled, Glow in the F*cking Dark: Simple Practices to Heal Your Soul From Someone Who Learned the Hard Way. You can bet it’s on my wish list!

Please note: I am including a link to buy the book that I’m highlighting this week. If you use my link, I do make a small commission on your purchase at no additional cost to you. I am working with Bookshop.org which also sends a portion of the profit to support local, independent bookstores.

Teacher: One Who Loves

Posted on by Wendy Kennar

“The simple definition of teacher is one who teaches. But the reality of what it means to be a teacher is so much more. There was never one typical school day, because what I did or didn’t do in that classroom wasn’t entirely up to me. It involved my students — their participation, their preparation, their personalities. Each student brought a different set of previous experiences, a different set of learning styles, and a different set of challenges.” 

The paragraph above is an excerpt from my personal essay, “Teacher: One Who Loves,” and I’m so pleased to share that my essay was recently published on HerStry as part of their Women at Work series. You can click here to read the essay in its entirety.

And just a friendly reminder — Teacher Appreciation Week is May 8-12, 2023! It’s a great time to get in touch with a former teacher (yours or your child’s) and thank them!