Healing spring, the origin of human cooperation, and herbs to make you feel alive
This week Substack Reads is guest edited by Poetry Today’s Maya C. Popa
This week’s digest is guest edited by NYC-based poetry editor and author
, who writes on Substack. Maya’s most popular post is “The 1% Rule: A Poet’s Take on Atomic Habits,” in which she shares five takeaways to use in your writing life.Guess what? They let a poet curate this week’s edition of Substack Reads! You’re probably wondering if this means a roundup of reflections on feathers, the nature of consciousness, and a feeling so complex that even the Germans don’t have a word for it. Not quite. That’s the beautiful thing about poets and poetry: it’s an aperture that widens to let the whole world in.
That said, I am leaning into the poet’s penchant for nature. Maybe it’s winter’s psychic toll or the promise of spring’s impending renewal, but I was drawn to pieces that cast light on our collective wounds, and the ways we might heal them. From Kirsten Powers’s unflinching “We don’t need ‘self-help,’ we need support” to Brian Klaas’s impressively researched “Big gods and the origin of human cooperation” to Mary Roblyn’s heart-wrenching meditation on hospice care and her beloved husband’s final weeks, I welcomed the chance to think more critically about our (un)natural systems.
Then I found comfort in what nature’s up to all on its own. The practice of paying close attention to the natural world can be a way deeper into life, as Sarah Blondin attests in “Wild voice.” Emily Nunn reminds us of a humble but potent antidote to the times in “Herbs in salads to make you feel alive!”, and astrologer Aliza Kelly offers a personal and collective reflection as we move in Aries season. I hope you enjoy this week’s dose of Substack brilliance.
CULTURE
We don’t need ‘self-help,’ we need support
Drawing from ’s The Year of Living Danishly, Powers offers the resonant observation that “...happy and healthy people don’t just happen. They are created by the culture in which they reside,” as she considers how America’s systemic deficiencies make even the most sincere efforts at life improvement challenging, if not impossible
—
in
You can’t have more meaningful friendships if you and your friends don’t have free time. You can’t retire and live near your grandchildren if you lost half your retirement savings in a stock market crash (or if you have no retirement savings). You can’t join a book club, volunteer, or take up a hobby if, when the workday ends, you are so depleted that all you have energy for is to lie under a weighted blanket and binge Netflix.
PHILOSOPHY
Big gods and the origin of human cooperation
Klaas’s impressively researched exploration opens on his visit to the Hell’s Museum in Singapore, a theme park of over 1,000 statues and 150 ornate dioramas depicting moralizing lessons from Chinese folklore and mythology. Need I say more?
—
in
The “Big Gods” hypothesis argues that divine gazes provided a far more effective form of deterring antisocial behavior than any mortal police force. Believers would self-regulate their behavior out of self-interest (who wants to end up suffering in hell for an eternity or reincarnated as a lowly flea?). Karma may have provided a similar, possibly even more potent, mechanism, since it’s believed that consequences for antisocial transgressions are not delayed, but more immediate.
POETRY
13 ways of looking at socks
Last April, after 43 years of marriage, Mary lost her husband to lung cancer—and began to write again. In this delightful piece that riffs on Wallace Stevens, she meditates on a mundane essential
—
in
1.
Even matched, some socks are misfits.
Wrong color or size,
Or just despised.2.
Do you know how many shades of black there are?
Said the mother of six boys, sorting socks.
NATURE
Wild voice
Sarah challenged herself to spend an hour under a tree every day for 30 days, a charge she gave herself after an unsettling dream involving a fox. In this beautiful reflection, she invites us to do the same
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in
I hope each of us will step into a field, or under the parasol of a tree, and invite our foxes forward. May we ask our rational minds and guards to stay at home, so we can be open to the wild breath of the earth. Consider what we are inhumanely treating and nurse it back to health.
FOOD & DRINK
Herbs in salads to make you feel alive!
Never has salad been as exciting as when Emily Nunn writes about it. You’ll find yourself wanting to stock up on basil, dill, mint, sage, tarragon, and flat-leaf parsley
—
in
In the very small world I occupy, it often seems that we sideline rather than glorify herbs.
We do this in spite of the fact that humans have benefited from wonderful herbs for thousands of years, “in cooking, to flavour foods, as perfumes, to make us smell nice; as disinfectants, to protect us against germs; as medicines—to heal us when we are sick; and as currency, instead of money,” according to Great Britain’s Herb Society (founded in 1927).
And they also make us feel alive, as if we have bitten into and tasted the very essence of our beautiful living planet.
ART & ILLUSTRATION
How we tell time: An invitation
I love Candace’s invitation for readers to reflect on the question “How do you tell time? And how do you know a new season is near?” in this illustrated essay
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in
To my great surprise—and delight—many of you began to share your stories of spring’s arrival anyway, and they were beautiful.
There were stories about apple blossoms in Maine and cherry blossoms in Tokyo, and I was especially moved by your stories from spring of 2020, when nature offered a way of marking time and staying grounded when we all felt anything but.
ASTROLOGY
On Aries season, innate courage, and reincarnation
After psychologist Adam Grant wrote a piece against astrology, I’d like to highlight my favorite Substack astrologer and her thoughtful weekly and seasonal astrological preview
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in
Every year, when Aries season rolls around, coinciding with the spring equinox and a new astrological calendar year, I don’t feel rip-roaring, ready to go. I don’t feel the shock wave of electric, fiery energy that defines Aries’s spirit. I don’t feel revitalized, rejuvenated, or ready to be reborn.
I’m completely, utterly, and profoundly exhausted.
I’m raw. Exposed. Depleted on a cellular level. And it’s not personal. From March to March, we traverse the entire zodiac—turning over every stone, enduring every karmic test, and surviving the wide range of experiences baked into each zodiac sign’s season. By the time we reach Pisces season, the last sign of the zodiac, we’re at the end of the line. The last stop. The final destination.
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Substack Reads is a weekly roundup of writing, ideas, art, and audio from the world of Substack. Posts are recommended by staff and readers, and curated and this week’s edition was guest edited by
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Oh wow, I am so honored that you included my art, thank you!
Lovely to see all these here, so much spring inspiration to dive into! 🍃✨🌷