meditations during late pregnancy

this won't last forever, though it feels like it right now. 

but they tell me it won't last forever. 

pregnancy has to end sometime

(although the third trimester feels like years). 

i think about female elephants

and how they are pregnant for about two years 

and i don't know how any being could do that

(and yet, these last months feel like years). 

[all pictures by Karyn and Jacob Tucker]

when i was an undergrad at byu,

one of my professors

(a woman teaching british modernism) 

mentioned that the time her body 

had been commented on the most 

was when she was pregnant. 

being pregnant during the pandemic 

(my own kind of "confinement," i suppose) 

i have not been out in public as often as 

i would have in regular times. 

thus, there haven't been as many comments on my body. 

but these past two weeks

as i've gone to the library of congress--

either walking on cooler days, 

or taking the metro when it's much too hot 

for anyone (let alone pregnant women) 

to be out and about--

i have heard the comments. 

some of them are welcome, 

some are not. 

the pregnant body is a spectacle, 

i suppose. 

normal, and yet, not normal. 

two bodies in one. 

four hands 

four feet 

two pairs of lungs. 

i breathe for both of us. 

being pregnant 

giving birth 

is both universal 

and individual. 

but it is an experience

everyone seems to have an opinion on

(some opinions are welcome, 

some are not). 

but here, this is my body. 

(stretched, aching, and unfamiliar

to me, it still gives life).  

and yes, this was my choice

(and an act of faith, 

my hope for the future--

not just mine, but for the world). 

i give and i receive, 

i hold and i believe. 

and when i am very still

i watch for his movements 

across my belly 

like shooting stars across 

a darkened sky. 

Some thoughts on digital minimalism

 A couple of months ago, I read the book Digital Minimalism by Cal Newport. The premise of the book is similar to what you've probably heard before--that we are too plugged-in on our devices, and that it changes the way we think, act, work, and play, etc. But, instead of promoting common-sense quick fixes (like turning off notifications or observing a weekly "digital Sabbath"--which are helpful, of course, but do not solve the problem of being plugged in most of the time), Newport recommends that we become digital minimalists--figuring out what works for us and what we need digitally, and figuring out tools work for us in which scenarios. (For example, instead of just hopping on every new device or app because it is available/because someone says that it will "make our lives easier," or "maximize your time," really ask yourself if that is the case.) 

One of his recommendations is to do a "digital minimalism challenge"--to completely cut out all digital media (except that which is absolutely necessary for work)--for 30 days. After the 30 days, you slowly reintroduce digital media into your life and find out what is truly working for you and in what ways. 

In March, I decided to try a "digital minimalism challenge," which for me meant no Facebook, no Instagram, and no looking at news on my phone (these were the biggest parts of my digital minimalism challenge--there were some other rules I made for myself, too). Most importantly, I wanted to figure out what was working for me digitally and what was not. 

I had done "digital detoxes" before--taking a break from Facebook/Instagram for a week or two, etc. But this was the first time I'd ever done something like this for a month . . . and the first few weeks were harder than I thought they would be! I missed seeing what friends were up to, I realized that I used checking Instagram and Facebook as tools to help me deal with boredom, and I had the sense that I was "missing out" on things/news/gossip. 

However, as the month went on, my mind felt calmer. I had more time to read, or to play piano, or to write. It was a freeing experience for me, to not feel attached to my phone or computer at all times, and it made me re-evaluate both my relationship to digital media (especially social media) and to relationships. 

Overall, I just realized that I don't want to live online all of the time. It does not, in the words of another famous minimalist "spark joy." 

That being said, digital media can be used to help foster and continue relationships . . . and it is there where I find myself still trying to figure out the best way to use digital media to strengthen my relationships with family and friends. I still don't know the best ways to go about that. But it's something I am more conscious of. 

Doing the digital minimalism challenge also made me think about how much I want our baby's life online. And honestly? I don't want his life online very much. I know that seeing baby pictures is so fun, but I also want to respect his privacy (and ours). At the same time, I also don't mind sharing pictures and fun stories with close friends and family members. Again, I'm not yet sure the specifics of how we'll do this (maybe a private blog, maybe a weekly email). But I don't want his life to be broadcast online before he has a chance to say whether he wants that or not. 

And, like I mentioned earlier, I don't want to live online all of the time. I appreciate authentic writing (so I'm figuring out what that means for my blog . . . it will probably stay in one form or another), but the desire to post frequently on social media has died down for me this past year. As one friend said, "the ride has to end sometime." 

The ride hasn't ended for me . . . not yet. I don't know if it ever will completely. Besides, digital minimalism isn't about completely cutting digital media out of your life, but rather, figuring out what is useful and what aligns with your values vs. what is superfluous. It's a work in progress for me. But a work that I hope helps me live more intentionally.