Tending the flame
Helping Friendly Newsletter, 01.30.26
Like the tundra that is currently Charlottesville, I wonder when our body politic will thaw. This season has been bitter. Biting. Icy in every way.
Minnesota, we see you. We love you, and we hate that you are suffering. Your community care, neighbor love, creative protest, and fierce noncompliance are lighting the way for us all. We are grateful, and we’re with you.
Despite terrible chaos on the surface, a steady pulse thrums below. Sunday marks midwinter or Imbolc, the halfway point to spring. In Celtic traditions, this signifies the passing of power from the Cailleach, crone goddess of winter, to Brigid, maiden goddess of spring. Literally “in the belly,” Imbolc is a time of quickening. It will ask us for keen listening, careful preparation, and active hope.
Thus we enter a new season of emergence. Even where ice persists, it cannot stop the spring. And we humans belong to that rhythm: As we face the freeze, we will bring light and warmth however we can.
You see, we are the thaw we seek. We tend this flame together. May we transform this frozen house into a living, loving home.
Here are this month’s 5 things to consider:
1
Tressie McMillan Cottom on the answer to political exhaustion: DO SOMETHING.
Tressie McMillan Cottom on PBS News, “The surprising way to fight political exhaustion”
“If every American did 3 of these 5 things, ICE would be stopped in its tracks.”
2
I take heart knowing that historians (like the GOAT, Heather Cox Richardson), archivists, librarians, writers, and artists are creating a trail of breadcrumbs for future generations. No matter what happens.
“Americans are remembering who we are.” - Heather Cox Richardson
All-call to cartoonists (and wonderful reading for all): #ICEoutcomics
3
Guidance on unhooking from tech.
“Resisting the annexation of our hearts and minds by Silicon Valley requires us not just to set boundaries on our engagement with what they offer, but to cherish the alternatives. Joy in ordinary things, in each other, in embodied life, and the language with which to value it, is essential to this resistance, which is resistance to dehumanisation.” - Rebecca Solnit, “What technology takes from us - and how to get it back”
Derek Beyer ’s principles, process, and tools for disconnecting
4
Precious ambitions, like this one from Noah Wylie. (Replace “artists” with any profession you like.)
“Please put me in the company of first-class artists with good hearts and good minds doing meaningful work.” - Noah Wylie
5
How to be a villager (a.k.a. cozy mutual aid):
“Moral of the story - be willing to be inconvenienced for connection.” - Sarah Alfieri, “Some habits that would help the world heal”
A good list from Israa Nasir (quoted):
Say yes to something inconvenient.
Offer concrete help unprompted.
Speak up in a moment of tension.
Drop something off at a neighbor/friend’s door.
Let someone see you in your mess.
Keep a “spare” habit: extra soup, extra chair, extra five minutes.
Show up to the boring stuff.
Mark seasons with something tiny and repeatable.
It’s been ages since I last shared reviews, and since then I’ve read bunches! These two novels, both of which encounter the mystery of dying, were my favorites:
The first, by Rachel Joyce, is The Love Song of Queenie Hennessy. Protagonist Queenie is the mysterious catalyst behind Joyce’s wonderful The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry. This book is a gorgeous companion, which I liked even better than the original; so, if you enjoyed Harold, don’t sleep on Queenie.
The hospice house that secludes Queenie is a setting both delicate and sturdy, thus mirroring not only her former sanctuary, an exquisite sea garden, but Queenie herself. The memorable cast of characters, including wise Sister Mary Inconnu, gruff Mr. Henderson, and the lively Finty, will stay with me a long time. And most of all, the book’s tender, but no-nonsense sensibility around grief is warming my heart as I work through some of my own losses. LOVED.
Next is George Saunders’ new release, Vigil, which delivers on his reputation for smart, spirited stories. Vigil is an afterlife tale, and it’s good to be back in the bardo. The novel satirizes climate-assaulting business execs, while nonetheless seeking “elevation” beyond the troubles of this world.
Everything about this story is liminal: between life and death in the bardo, yes - but also between reality and illusion, between self and not-self, between impact and inevitability, and between judgment and redemption. It is classic Saunders, both weird and profound, and written in his distinct, yet accessible prose. LOVED.
Finally, join me for this sure-to-be-spicy book club at Commerce Street Books in Charlottesville on February 12! 👇
Thank you for reading! This newsletter is a labor of love. 💌 To support it, you can upgrade to a paid subscription, share this post, or engage my services. You can learn more about my work at jenniferlphillips.com.
I bet you find a gem 💎→
Joy is a strategy: the white leftist struggle with spirit
The Nation nominates Minneapolis for a Nobel Peace Prize
The No Kings economic playbook
Flowchart: Should I hold a meeting?
“What stuns me daily, what brings me to my knees, is how vastly I have oscillated from caregiver to receiver. This doesn’t feel like a role reversal so much as proof: love circulates. We take turns. Offering, accepting. This is the choreography of care. The dance that never ends, only changes partners, changes who leads.”
Big deal books in 2026 - George Saunders! Colson Whitehead! Maria Semple! Maggie O’Farrell! Elizabeth Strout! Lindy West! Jesmyn Ward! Mac Barnett!
H is for Hawk, adapted for film
Where are they now? Babysitters Club
Full snow moon: Sunday, February 1 @ 5:09 PM Eastern
look up, freak out, tell about it 👇
Have a great weekend, friends!
I’ll see you in your inbox again soon.
Peace,
