Instead of starting your week with deadlines and stress, how about a lovely poem from Robert Frost, on the inevitability of loss and change:

Nothing Gold Can Stay
Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

This poem seems, at first, to have a hopeless tone.

But I find, again and again, that accepting the inevitability of loss and change unlocks a richer, deeper form of happiness: a savoring of the present, and a willingness to find and embrace future gains.

(This is really what my book, BITTERSWEET, was all about. And I’m considering these themes all over again now, as my husband Ken and I find ourselves months away from an “empty nest”. Right now I feel pretty calm and optimistic about this change - I’ll let you know what it’s actually like, in September!)

This is not to say that life doesn’t throw us catastrophic losses whose arrival we must mourn. But life does reconstitute itself, continually, in new forms; and the challenge is to open ourselves to these new forms - even when we don’t welcome them.

*
You know I always love to hear from you:

• What in your life feels “golden” (and perhaps fleeting) right now — and are you savoring it fully, while it’s still here?

• What “new form” might life be asking you to welcome, even if you didn’t choose it?

• What has “not stayed” in your life—and what did its passing teach you?

Please do share!

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Dear all,

Recently, I was invited to give the keynote address at The Slowdown Summit - a conference for introverts, neurodivergent people, and reflective thinkers. It will be held at the Columbus Museum of Art, in Columbus, Ohio, on Monday, April 27.

The conference organizers describe the Slowdown Summit, which you can learn more about here, as “part retreat, part professional development, and part creative recharge. You’ll find immersive sessions, quiet corners, shared meals, and real conversations - all within a setting designed to be intentional and energizing.”

WE’RE ALSO GOING TO HAVE A SEPARATE MEET-UP AT THE SUMMIT, JUST FOR READERS OF THE QUIET LIFE. It will be either during or just after the conference.

Also - Quiet Life readers receive a 50% DISCOUNT to the conference: just enter “Quietlife” when you sign up.

If you do sign up for the Summit (which you can do here), please do comment below to let us know, so we’ll know how many of you to expect at our Quiet Life Meetup!

I am so excited at the chance to meet you in person.

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Are you a moral perfectionist?

Which is to say:

Do you feel acute shame if you think you did something wrong?

Do you have a tendency to feel guilty, even when you really aren’t?

Do you feel uncomfortable when occasionally you have a selfish or mean-spirited thought?

Do you feel unsure when it’s “right” to “put yourself first”?

If this sounds like you, today’s Kindred Letter is for you.

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If not - or if you were there, and would like to watch it again - this video replay is for you! It’s avai…

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Like everyone else, these days I spend too much time doom-scrolling on my phone, and too little time reading actual books.

But I’ve been inspired by our teenaged sons - who are suddenly putting down their phones and reading long books about history and politics — to change my ways, and to get back to my first love: reading.

I’m guessing that you might feel the same way. So, in case it inspires you, I thought I’d share these favorite books from my home library, plus some suggestions for disconnecting from your phone, and reading more.

*
First, some fave books:

Sacred Therapy: Jewish Spiritual Teachings on Emotional Healing and Inner Wholeness, by Estelle Frankel: This book is so full of wisdom and insight. I pulled down my copy just now and it’s filled with underlines and margin notes. Frankel draws on tales and teachings from the Bible, the Talmud, Kabbalah, and Hasidic tradition to offer insights on healing broken hearts, and living life as a sacred narrative.

The Power of Myth, by Joseph Campbell: I discovered Campbell’s work during that great transitional period of my life (in my early 30s, when I left the wrong career and the wrong relationship, and set sail into the unknown) and it has been a mainstay ever since. This book (as with most of Campbell’s work) is an exploration of how the world’s myths — ancient and modern — reveal the shared patterns of the human experience. Drawn from a series of conversations with journalist Bill Moyers, it shows how stories from diverse cultures illuminate universal themes such as the hero’s journey, the search for meaning, the tension between individual destiny and social roles, and the encounter with the sacred.

Gone: A Girl, A Violin, a Life Unstrung, by Min Kym: This is one of the most extraordinary memoirs I’ve ever read. World-class violinist Min Kym recounts the bond she formed at seventeen with a Stradivarius violin that became, for her, something like a lover, a child, a twin. These were not just fanciful metaphors: Min happily lived in a tiny apartment so she could pour all her financial resources into maintaining her instrument. But when her violin was stolen one day, her world collapsed. She stopped playing for years, fell into a deep depression. Eventually, though, she began to emerge — full of insights on loss and rebirth — and she wrote this magisterial book. When I first read the manuscript — which was sent to me by our shared editor — I stayed up all night to finish reading. I think you will, too.

And, here are a few suggestions of how to disconnect from your phone and read more:

*As with all habits you want to encourage, make them easy and inviting. Turn reading into a beloved ritual, with a “clean and well-lighted place”: your favorite armchair, a cozy lamp, a special reading snack or cup of coffee.

*Again, as with all habits you want to encourage, start small: fifteen minutes a day is fine, and so is ten minutes. So is five. Any amount of minutes is better than zero minutes!

As always, I’d love to hear from you:

*I’d be curious to know which one(s) of these books, if any, appeal to you.

*And, would you please share some favorite reads of your own?

*Do you think that our boys’ recently rekindled interest in book-reading is part of a wider trend, or a quirk of our family? I suspect the former, but am curious about your experiences.

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Last week, I reposted this simple statement: “One of the most peaceful habits you can build is letting people do whatever they want…. and simply adjusting your distance.” - @

Many of you resonated with it; some of you asked for concrete tips on how to peacefully adjust your distance, especially from the difficult people in your life.

I’m going to give you ten concrete suggestions, in a minute.

But first, think of a difficult person in your life. Then think how much energy you spend trying to get this person to see things your way. You might wish for them to treat you better, or to exercise more, or to see the political world from your point of view. You might express these wishes out loud, only for them to fall on deaf or angry ears.

Or you might keep these wishes to yourself, expressing them over and over in the seemingly safe chamber of your own mind. And when these wishes (of course) don’t come true (i.e., when the difficult person doesn’t change) you might feel a sense of failure.

But here’s a different approach:

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Dear all,

I’m really looking forward to seeing you tomorrow, for our next Candlelight Chat.

We’re going to talk about longing vs. craving; whether you should pursue acceptance or change; bittersweet music; and more. This one’s for you if your life feels stagnant, or if you’re trying to build better habits, or if you want to make changes, without turning your life upside down.

We’re very honored to host special guest Eric Zimmer, host of the critically acclaimed podcast, “The One You Feed”, and author of the upcoming new book — How a Little Becomes a Lot: The Art of Small Changes For a More Meaningful Life, an excerpt of which we’ll publish soon.

As I mentioned the other day, Eric is intense, caring, and very insightful, and you can feel these things the minute you start talking to him. You’ll see what I mean, when you meet him.

As usual, we’ll also invite you to ask your questions of Eric. You’ll be able to talk to him either via the written chat, or by “raising your hand” and coming online to chat with him.

Also as usual, please have a candle handy, but don’t light it yet. We’ll do that together.

And, please bring a journal, iPad, sketchbook, or whatever works best for you.

And finally, don’t worry if you can’t make it live. We’ll send out a video recording to paid and scholarship subscribers next week.

Here are your log-in instructions:

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When I did my book tour for BITTERSWEET: How Sorrow and Longing Make Us Whole, my father and brother had recently passed away from COVID, and I didn’t want to do in-person events. Instead, I agreed to be a guest on approximately a gazillion podcasts (“gazillion” = at least 130, probably more). It was an exciting though exhausting experience, and most of it I remember in a blur.

But one thing I do recall clearly is the feeling I got from being a guest on Eric Zimmer’s critically acclaimed podcast, “The One You Feed”. Eric has an extremely singular and wonderful quality: he’s intense, caring, and very insightful, and you can feel these things the minute you start talking to him. You’ll see what I mean, when you meet him. The image that’s coming to my mind, as I type these words, is of a beautifully polished stone you pick up at the water’s edge, one that sits warm and smooth in your palm. You know that the stone got that way from having been tossed around the ocean waves for years (as has Eric - he’ll share his difficult life story) and that makes it all the lovelier.

Anyway, that’s why I’m so happy to announce that Eric will be our guest for this Sunday’s Candlelight Chat (1 pm ET, on Zoom). We’ll be discussing his much-anticipated new book, How a Little Becomes a Lot: The Art of Small Changes For a More Meaningful Life, an excerpt of which we’ll also publish soon.

If your life feels stagnant — or too big to fix all at once…

If you’re trying to build better habits…

If you want to make changes, without turning your life upside down…

This Sunday’s Candlelight Chat is for you.

We’re also going to talk about sad music (here’s Eric’s version of a Bittersweet playlist); longing vs. craving; whether you should pursue acceptance or change; sad music, and more.

To participate, you must be a paid or scholarship member of The Quiet Life. Members can participate either live (we’ll send log-in instructions this Saturday), or by watching the video replay, which we’ll send later.

As usual, we’ll also invite you to ask your questions of Eric. You’ll be able to talk to him either via the written chat, or by “raising your hand” and coming online to chat with him.

I really hope you join us!

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All my life, I’ve felt deeply, instinctively, unsafe in groups. I don’t mean groups like my family, who are my most beloved people on earth. I just mean group life in general.

For a long time, I wondered how this could be - especially since humans are famously social animals, evolved to live in tribes.

But the older I get, the more I suspect that this instinctive wariness has something to do with the strange way we now talk about individualism — as if it were something selfish or suspect.

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“I think the Highly Sensitive Person (HSP) trait is so misunderstood. It’s one of those IF YOU KNOW YOU KNOW traits. If you’re in the approximately 15% to 20% of people who is an HSP, you certainly don’t need me to tell you that you are HSP. You live it every damn second of your life! But if you’re far, far away from that trait, it might be hard for you to comprehend what the inner experience of an HSP is like.”

These words come from my friend Scott Barry Kaufman, the great cognitive scientist and author who has spent many years studying creativity, human potential, and transcendence. SBK is a frequent guest essayist and Candlelight Chat guest at The Quiet Life - and you can follow his own Substack too, here. He’s also an HSP.

Today SBK’s back with us, writing on:

*Why HSP’s can have shaky self-esteem (or, what SBK calls “self-belief”) — and how to strengthen it;

*Why you can have strong self-belief in Situation A and find that it eludes you in Situation B;

*Whether it’s healthy to say “Haters gonna hate”;

and much more.

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Yesterday, a fellow author asked me to share my favorite writers on the subject of Melancholy, so of course I passed on my favorite C.S. Lewis passage, the one I spotlighted in BITTERSWEET:

“The books or the music in which we thought the beauty was located will betray us if we trust to them; it was not in them, it only came through them, and what came through them was longing. These things—the beauty, the memory of our own past—are good images of what we really desire; but if they are mistaken for the thing itself they turn into dumb idols, breaking the hearts of their worshipers. For they are not the thing itself; they are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never yet visited [emphasis added].”

My colleague loved it as much as I do, and I was especially happy when he exclaimed over its breathtaking final sentence.

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And then I realized that we’re not supposed to write sentences like that anymore - because writing in rhythms of three, as Lewis does in that sentence, is now considered to sound too much like AI.

Except, of course, that AI was trained on our best writers — like Lewis. So of course it echoes those writers’ rhythms.

So where does that leave us writers now? Should we abjure such rhythms, for fear of sounding like a machine?

Just to ask this question is painful, given that Lewis wrote not like a machine but like an angel.

This question is obviously not just for writers, but for anyone who cares about art, excellence, and expression. It’s also a question for students, who have to worry about the appearance that their papers were written by AI.

And I think the answer is equally obvious:

We shouldn’t cede an inch of ground to these new norms.

I’m not saying that we shouldn’t use AI to help us research, ideate, and so on. I do.

But we shouldn’t give up our favorite forms of expression to it. If we love em-dashes (another supposed sign of AI writing), we should keep using them. And if we like the rhythm of threes, we should use it still. (If you’re a student, add a P.S. letting your teacher know that you really like em-dashes and want to keep using them.)

This is partly a matter of principle. But it’s also because we don’t have anything to worry about, at least not yet. The real reason to read, write, and engage in any form of self-expression and communication, is for one human consciousness to truly explain itself — bare itself — to another.

No one but C.S. Lewis could have written those words — because they came from his particular consciousness, his particular life experiences, his particular spiritual longing.

And yes, I just used an em-dash, and a rhythm of three, in that final sentence.

*
*I’d love to know how AI is affecting your creative life, your work life, and beyond.

*I’m also curious whether you’ve had the experience of starting to read a very moving, goosebump-inducing story on social media, only to realize that it was likely written by an AI. In those cases, do you keep reading, or do you lose interest?

*And anything else you’d like to share!

You’re also invited to share this post with anyone you’d like!

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This will be familiar to all of us:

We exclaim over a delicious meal, rave about a new movie. “Incredible!” we say to our person, who merely shrugs: “It was OK.”

Have you ever felt deflated because someone didn’t share your enthusiasm?

Or pressured to amplify your reaction, to match someone else’s intensity?

These moments, which often happen in passing — so quickly that we barely notice them — have consequences for our marriages, friendships, and workplaces. Sometimes they’re just a matter of taste: you really loved the movie, and I thought it was meh.

But here’s what else may be going on - and what to do about it.

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If not - or if you were there, and would like to watch it again - this video replay is for you! It’s a…

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Some questions to discuss (and I’ll offer my own thoughts, in the comments):

• Do you love this poem as much as I do,

and:

• Is there anything sacred about this scene to you? If so, what? Is it the man himself? Or the man’s attention to his moment-by-moment experience? Or is it something else?

• What ordinary rituals in your own life do you treasure?

• What small moments in your own life feel more meaningful than they probably appear to random passers-by?

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Dear all,

I’m really looking forward to seeing you tomorrow, for our next Candlelight Chat!

This one’s for you if you’re facing the end of a relationship, an unexpected diagnosis, the loss of a job, or some other twist of fate.

We’re very honored to host special guest Dr. Maya Shankar, a cognitive scientist; host of the critically acclaimed podcast, A Slight Change of Plans; and author of the instant new bestselling book — The Other Side of Change: Who We Become When Life Makes Other Plans, an excerpt of which we published in The Quiet Life last month.

Here are just a few of the topics we’ll discuss with Dr. Shankar:

• The moment life splits into “before” and “after” — and how to rebuild meaning on the other side.

• What research shows about the people who grow stronger after disruption — and what they do differently.

• How to support someone you love who is going through radical change (without saying the wrong thing).

• How to recognize when you’re clinging to a past version of yourself — and how to let go with dignity.

• And more.

As usual, we’ll also invite you to ask your questions of Dr. Shankar. You’ll be able to talk to her either via the written chat, or by “raising your hand” and coming online to chat with her.

Also as usual, please have a candle handy, but don’t light it yet. We’ll do that together.

And, please bring a journal, iPad, sketchbook, or whatever works best for you.

And finally, don’t worry if you can’t make it live. We’ll send out a video recording to paid and scholarship subscribers next week.

Here are your log-in instructions:

Read more

Are you facing the end of a relationship, an unexpected diagnosis, the loss of a job, or some other twist of fate?

Do you feel as if you’re free-falling into the unknown?

If so - this Sunday’s Candlelight Chat is for you.

Subscribe now

We’re very honored to host special guest Dr. Maya Shankar, a cognitive scientist; host of the critically acclaimed podcast, A Slight Change of Plans; and author of the new book — The Other Side of Change: Who We Become When Life Makes Other Plans, an excerpt of which we published in The Quiet Life last month.

Here are just a few of the topics we’ll discuss with Dr. Shankar:

• The moment life splits into “before” and “after” — and how to rebuild meaning on the other side.

• What research shows about the people who grow stronger after disruption — and what they do differently.

• How to support someone you love who is going through radical change (without saying the wrong thing).

• How to recognize when you’re clinging to a past version of yourself — and how to let go with dignity.

• And more.

As usual, we’ll also invite you to ask your questions of Dr. Shankar. You’ll be able to talk to her either via the written chat, or by “raising your hand” and coming online to chat with her.

If you’re a paid or scholarship subscriber, you’ll receive log-in instructions this Saturday, for the Sunday afternoon Zoom (Eastern time).

Please do join us!

Subscribe now

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Recently, I shared the eulogy I wrote for my mother, and some thoughts on honoring one’s own temperament in grief and mourning.

As I mentioned in that post, every year, on my father’s yahrzeit (the anniversary of his death), I share these seven things he taught me by example. I’m actually a little late to do it this year; but, it’s never too late.

Here you go:

1. Do beautiful things, just for the sake of them. If you love orchids, build a greenhouse full of them in the basement. If you love the sound of French, learn to speak it fluently, even though you rarely have time to visit France. If you love organic chemistry, spend your Sundays reading “orgo” textbooks.​

2. Find work you love and work that matters, and do it as excellently as you can.​

3. Make a life where you’re as free as possible from the forces of dogma and bureaucracy.​

4. If you want to live a quiet life, live a quiet life. If you’re a humble person who has no use for the spotlight, be a humble person who has no use for the spotlight. No big deal.​

5. If you happen to be a doctor, take care of your patients – really take care of them. Study medical journals after dinner, train the next generation of physicians (my father kept teaching until age 81), spend the extra hour to visit the bedside of your patients in the hospital.​ (Here’s a letter from one of those patients, which we found after my father passed away. He never showed us these things while he was alive.)

6. If you’re a husband, take care of your wife, even when she has Alzheimer’s and can’t walk and asks you the same question again and again and again and again and again and again…​

7. If you’re a parent, teach your children the things you love, like music and poetry, so that one day they’ll love them too. One of my earliest memories is asking my father to play the “chair record” (Beethoven’s “Emperor’s” concerto, whose name I was too young to pronounce) over and over again.

My father and I talked, just before he died of COVID. He was in the hospital, trying to breathe.

“Be well, kid,” he said, as he hung up the phone.

And I have been well. And so, I hope, will you.

*

What are some of the most important things your parents or other elders taught you, or that you hope to teach other people?

I would love to know,

❤️Susan

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That’s one of the many takeaways from our Candlelight Chat last week with Dr. Jennifer Reid, the creator and host of A Mind of Her Own podcast and Substack, and author of the brand-new book, GUILT FREE: Reclaiming Your Life from Unreasonable Expectations.

It was so nice, as it always is, t…

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“Mattering offers a deeper, almost intuitive framework for understanding what is assailing our kids and points us to where best parental energies can be spent if we want to protect our kids from this excessive pressure.”

So says Jennifer Wallace, the founder of The Mattering Institute, whose mission is to create cultures of mattering in workplaces and communities, and co-founder of The Mattering Movement, a nonprofit organization dedicated to creating cultures of mattering in schools.

In her brand-new book, MATTERING: The Secret to a Life of Deep Connection and Purpose, Wallace shares what we can do to combat the pandemic of loneliness and despair that are harming our youth, and how we can combat today’s widespread mattering deficit.

And she has graciously offered to share an excerpt from her book with us today - focusing on the tools and skills for building meaningful community, buffering against stress and anxiety, and making a positive impact on the world.

Here’s Jennifer:

“When the Rug Gets Pulled: Coping With Life’s Transitions

In her best friend’s living room, Nancy Schlossberg sat with her hands wrapped around a warm mug of coffee. After twenty years of friendship, Sue’s living room was familiar ground, the kind of place where Nancy didn’t have to pretend. “My life looks perfect from the outside,” Nancy said in a low voice. “So why do I feel so miserable?”

They’d been talking about how Nancy’s recent relocation back to Washington, D.C. had thrown her off, how much she missed the structure and routine of her old life in Michigan. After spending ten years there, her husband’s work brought them back to Washington, D.C. It felt like the right move. Nancy had landed a prestigious position at the American Council on Education. Her best friend lived across town. She loved Washington, D.C. Every box was checked. So why was she feeling so lost?

Will I matter again?

What Nancy was experiencing has a name: a collapse of what researchers call mattering. Mattering is the sense that we are valued by others and that we have value to contribute to the world. At its core, mattering answers our most fundamental human questions: Am I valued? Does my presence make a difference? This need is deeply rooted in our evolutionary past. For early humans, being valued by the group meant safety and survival; being overlooked meant risk. That wiring remains.

When we experience a life transition, such as retirement, an empty nest, losing a job, grieving a loved one, or moving to a new city, it can rattle our sense of mattering. It can feel like our previous identity — our understanding of how we add value and to whom, and who values us and why — disappears overnight. But mattering doesn’t just diagnose the problem — it offers the solution.

Mattering is highly actionable and built from specific ingredients that are captured by the acronym SAID: feeling significant (seen and essential), appreciated (valued for who you are and what you contribute), invested in (supported and cared for), and depended on (needed by others). Strengthening these dimensions can expand our “mattering span,” helping us feel grounded, useful, and connected at any stage of life.

Conduct Me-Search

When researchers decide to pursue a question that holds personal relevance, one that grows out of their own struggles or curiosities, it’s somewhat playfully known in academic circles as “me-search.” Me-search is the social psychologist who investigates loneliness after grappling with it herself in early adulthood, or the developmental researcher who studies resilience in children because he grew up in the foster care system. Rather than a mark against scientific rigor, me-search often leads to more empathetic and nuanced questions, driven by an insider’s understanding.

When facing a shaky life transition, me-search can help you find a path forward. Maybe you turn to books, articles, or research studies related to your experience. Maybe you invite someone who has thrived after a similar transition to tell you their story over coffee. Maybe you seek out workshops and talks to gain practical knowledge. For Nancy, the most transformative knowledge came from reaching out directly to people who had similar experiences. In fact, in her interviews, she found that those who coped most effectively often did just this—sought out real-life examples to illuminate their next steps.

The great thing about me-search is that it does more than give us strategies for coping. It is also a deeply relational act that strengthens our ties. When we reach out to learn how someone else has navigated a transition, we send a message that their experience matters to us and that we trust their perspective. When we ask others for guidance, we affirm that our role models and their hard-won experience have value. This creates an upward spiral of interdependent mattering, where both seeker and sharer feel more connected, valued, and significant.

The act of me-search also empowers us to approach transition with curiosity. By turning outward, asking questions, seeking stories, and looking for roadmaps in the lives of others, we shift our perspective from fear of the unknown to an interest in what’s possible. Curiosity can help us move beyond our disorientation and consider our next season as something of an adventure.

Harness the Power of Invitation

When Catherine moved from New Jersey to Florida after her kids left for college, she planned her social relocation as carefully as she planned the logistics of the relocation itself. Back home, Catherine had always been the friend who brought people together, planned moms’ nights out, and routinely checked in on friends. Over the years, these friendships had carried her through job changes and the loss of her mother. She had seen how a simple invitation—a coffee, a walk, a conversation—could pull people out of loneliness and reinforce the important place we fill in others’ lives. So when she and her husband moved to Florida, she made a resolution: she would say “yes” to every invitation that came her way, at least for the first few weeks. No overthinking, no excuses—just yes.

Catherine started by joining a local Facebook group. A few days after arriving, she took a chance and went out to dinner with a few of the group’s members. There, a woman casually invited Catherine to her Super Bowl party that weekend. “Of course, I said yes—my only word to an invite,” Catherine told me. That woman would later become one of Catherine’s closest friends. Little by little, one invitation at a time—golf outings, dinner plans, book club gatherings—Catherine’s new community started to feel like home. And it was all because of her blanket decision to say “yes.”

Saying “yes” can feel surprisingly hard. We might tell ourselves we’re not ready, that we’ll focus on meeting new people once we’ve got our life in order. Or maybe we worry we won’t fit in or that we have nothing to offer. But one way to shift our thinking is to remember that saying “yes” isn’t just for us; it’s for the other person, too. When someone extends an invitation, they’re taking a small risk. They’re reaching out, hoping for connection, and wondering if we’ll meet them halfway. By saying “yes,” we’re accepting that bid, letting them know they matter, too.

Sarah came to understand this firsthand after a divorce at age 45. She knew the transition back to single life was going to be rough. “How exactly do you function as a single person in a couples’ world?” she recalled thinking. Often, she felt like an awkward third wheel when socializing with her couple friends. When the check came at dinner and her friends wouldn’t allow her to split it, or when the conversation turned to topics like romantic weekends away, Sarah would shrink inside. Instead of feeding her mattering, these dinners made her feel out of place. Over time, she felt so uncomfortable that she stopped accepting their invitations. During weekends when she had the kids, her nights would be spent chauffeuring them around, and when her husband had the kids, she’d lock herself in her house, drinking more wine than she liked to admit. Her sense of mattering “shriveled up,” as she put it.

Eventually, Sarah and her therapist uncovered the real cause of her retreat—a secret fear that her friends were judging, or worse, pitying her. Over time, they developed a strategy focused on reframing her mindset: invitations were not just about her; they were about both people in the relationship. Every “yes” was an act of giving and a way of helping others feel seen and valued.

Often, we think that saying “yes” means we have to have our act together. Researchers call this the Beautiful Mess Effect—our tendency to overestimate how harshly others will judge us when we reveal a weakness or failure while underestimating how much they will appreciate our openness. Studies show that while we may see our vulnerability as a flaw, others tend to see it as a strength and a display of warmth, evidence that we are trustworthy. The very thing we fear might push people away is often what draws them closer. Think of it this way: Have you ever tried to tape something to a slick, shiny surface? It doesn’t stick for very long. It’s the rough part, the messy part, that allows for the stickiness to take hold. In the same way, it’s those imperfect parts of ourselves that create paths to true connection by giving others something real to hold onto.

Who are the people in your life you can say “yes” to? How can you accept an invitation you might normally turn down or extend one to someone who might be waiting for it? Perhaps to start, you might set a goal of saying “yes” or offering an invitation twice in a week. That “yes” helps you when you’re feeling lonely, when you’re unsure if you matter. And it helps others, too, letting them know that the connection with them is worth it.

Here’s the wonderful truth: every time we reinforce someone else’s worth, we’re reminded that we, too, are needed, valued, and capable of making a difference. In reminding others that they matter, we are reminded just how much we are, too.”

From MATTERING: The Secret to a Life of Deep Connection and Purpose by Jennifer Breheny Wallace, published on January 27th, 2026, by Portfolio, an imprint of Penguin Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Random House, LLC. Copyright © 2026 by Jennifer Breheny Wallace.

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I hope you enjoyed this excerpt from Jennifer Wallace!

Would you like to share with us:

*When in your life have you felt that you truly mattered?

*Who in your life consistently makes you feel that you matter — and how do they do this?

*What external measures (money, titles, likes, productivity, grades) most influence your self worth?

*When do you feel most seen — and when do you feel invisible?

*In what ways do you tie your own self-worth to productivity, success or approval?

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This past weekend, we attended the funeral and memorial service of a family friend, a wonderful man who passed away heartbreakingly young, at age 52. He’d been devoted to his wife and family, and his many friends all over the world, and they came from far and wide to mourn him, and to celebrate his life. He and many of his family and friends are very extroverted, so the service consisted of many speeches (some impromptu), with lots of tears but also wine, food, and laughter. As a guest, I felt I’d been given a gift of entering this man’s abundant family and social life - to know its relationships, to hear its stories. After it was over, in addition to sorrow, I felt the familiar pang of having read the final page of a rich and vibrant novel.

But I felt a different kind of pang, too: at how different the funerals had been for my father and mother - so much smaller, so much quieter.

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