Finding Magic, Even Now
The Nature of Reading Newsletter | Winter | Week 6
Dear readers,
I last wrote to you on December 31st 2024, and here we are on February 1st 2025, a new year, a whole month between us, the impact of each January day still present in all of our minds.
And where have I been? At a time when so much attention was being directed towards the national stage as destructive fires raged across the country—both in a literal and metaphorical sense—circumstances in my own life competed for my full focus. Life had turned in an instant from the busy crush of the holiday season to nearly three weeks of bronchitis to packing up our whole lives and moving into a new apartment. I tried to balance the physicality of being sick and packing countess boxes with the intangible knowledge of all that was happening in the country and the devastating effects it has on loved ones, on all of us, on the Earth itself.
I suppose this recounting of a tricky, terrible, at times uniquely wonderful and above all busy month has all been an attempt to assuage some of my guilt for not sending out a newsletter in all of January. Yet even then I know this guilt is unnecessary—I am so lucky to have the most empathetic, kindhearted readers, so many of whom even offered me their help in the shop as I navigated these periods of significant change with even more to come in the following months.
Despite the difficulty of the physical tasks of working to restore my body to full health (or at least a manageable, non-coughing level of health) and packing so many boxes and moving things between old and new apartments, this big change of The Move that stood taller above all other January life events has truly been a positive one. We have been so lucky to find a lovely new apartment, still within walking distance of the shop, that has more space for hosting friends and family and is on the ground floor surrounded by birds and trees and cats (the neighbors have a lot of cats).
It feels wrong and incongruent to have such periods of joy in such a dark time for the country, and my mind did somersaults to try and decide how much attention to devote to each and every new and terrible piece of news. We must let in some news to keep us away from ignorance and obliviousness, but if we let in too much it can so easily crush us into devastating sadness and nihilism. Somewhere, there is a balance that leads to a place of being informed and able to enact plans for sustained action while still maintaining hope that things can get better and that we have agency to help bring about that change.
I don’t have the answers, but this balancing of our attention is something that we’ll discuss in tomorrow’s release of Attending Together, and something that I plan to explore even more in the coming weeks.
To help spread motivated action in climate and social justice fights, I hope to have a collection of links and resources available online soon. Until then, you can browse our newly expanded Community & Activism section.
In the years since last week, when he whose name I’d prefer to not even write took office (not for fear of it but for disgust), the same day we turned in the keys for our old apartment, somehow even with the cold darkness looming over us all, moments in the shop have shone bright with magic, and I find myself more grateful for them than ever before.
This photo is from book club this past week, from what was probably the most magical meeting we’ve had so far. From the beginning, there was such joy and wonder and gratitude—the shop was filled with a dozen people, more than we’ve ever had at a book club meeting before. Indeed, we could barely fit in the shop, and Mario kindly sat on the kid’s tree stump while we looked over the packed table.
But the real moment of magic came when this photo was taken. This month we read Orbital by Samantha Harvey, a slim yet powerful eco-fiction novel set in the International Space Station. The novel itself felt magical (for who among us can truly comprehend the majesty of viewing our Earth from afar) and this feeling was only compounded when a lovely book club member let me know earlier in the day that the space station would be visible and passing overhead precisely during our book club meeting.
And so, despite the cold and despite how we had packed ourselves like sardines around the table in the tiny shop, when we shared the news of the space station passing overhead, everyone immediately was filled with that childlike excitement and we all rushed outside and waited with anticipation to see the bright light of the space station materialize in the dark night sky.
The twelve of us, on a cold January evening, stood outside the shop and watched the sky as the space station suddenly sparkled into our vision, rising above the trees and buildings into a graceful, surprisingly fast arc before fading back into the night over our heads. Twelve people, brought together to discuss a book of hope and humanity, looking up together at the meticulously described, distant place in which the book was set, knowing perhaps astronauts like the very characters of the book were looking back down at earth, admiring it as we were admiring them.
That moment of magic will continue to fill my spirit for many, many days to come.
And with that, I will leave you for a brief while (tomorrow I’ll be back to offer up our latest episode of Attending Together). I invite you to think about your latest moments of magic, how you might invite more magic into your life, and how you can hold onto it as a beacon of hope and lightness despite the dark and stormy seas that rage around us.
All best wishes,
Hailey
If you need to add some light to your month, we’d love to have you at our next crafting event on Thursday, February 6th! During these slow winter months when people are (understandably) staying inside more often or (this year especially) more focused on the news, I appreciate even more your attendance at our events and certainly in general your purchase of any book or gift from the shop—I wouldn’t be able to keep doing this without you, dear reader, and I am so grateful for your presence here in our community.
We’re back this month with our monthly crafting events! This Thursday, we’ll be crafting one of these whimsical blooming bug cross stitch projects. You can choose from the three different patterns available: moth, beetle, or bee. Come join us for a wholesome night of crafting and community as we sip herbal tea and stitch together.
Last year’s chocolate walk was so fun, I knew we had to participate again this year. This time last year was when I launched our Blind Date with a Book Bundles—something that has been a customer favorite ever since. If you come by the store on Saturday February 8th, enjoy a free mini vegan chocolate with every purchase.
We’re back for another round of the Morris Winter Market! We’ll have plenty of books and gifts up at the market for your shopping convenience as you visit all of the other wonderful vendors there.
While debating what kind of event I wanted to do for Valentine’s Day—and mulling over the current political climate we find ourselves in—it seemed like the perfect time to start a new monthly event: a free Craftivism Club! Join us once a month for a night of making and putting our craftiness towards social and climate justice. We’ll have a mix of materials available for your use each month, but you are also free to bring any materials of your own. Also, if you wish to just come and work on your own existing crafting project, you’re more than welcome to do that as well! Part of the goal of the group is to create a space where we can keep our hands busy while feeling the warmth of community around us and discussing how to cope with/act within today’s issues. I hope to see you on February 11th!
Indigenous worldviews, and the knowledge they confer, are critical for human survival and the wellbeing of future generations. Editors Wahinkpe Topa (Four Arrows) and Darcia Narvaez present 28 powerful excerpted passages from Indigenous leaders, including Mourning Dove, Robin Wall Kimmerer, Winona LaDuke and more. The editors emphasize our deep need to move away from the dominant Western paradigm—one that dictates we live without strong social purpose, fails to honor the earth as sacred, leads with the head while ignoring the heart, and places individual “rights” over collective responsibility. Restoring the Kinship Worldview is rooted in an Indigenous vision and strong social purpose that sees all life forms as sacred and sentient.
When Rowan Jacobsen first heard of a chocolate bar made entirely from wild Bolivian cacao, he was skeptical. The waxy mass-market chocolate of his childhood had left him indifferent to it, and most experts believed wild cacao had disappeared from the rainforest centuries ago. But one dazzling bite of Cru Sauvage was all it took. Chasing chocolate down the supply chain and back through history, Jacobsen travels the rainforests of the Amazon and Central America to find the chocolate makers, activists, and indigenous leaders who are bucking the system that long ago abandoned wild and heirloom cacao in favor of high-yield, low-flavor varietals preferred by Big Chocolate. What he found was a cacao renaissance. Full of vivid characters, vibrant landscapes, and surprising history, Wild Chocolate promises to be as rich, complex, and addictive as good chocolate itself.
The most startling thing about disasters, according to award-winning author Rebecca Solnit, is not merely that so many people rise to the occasion, but that they do so with joy. That joy reveals an ordinarily unmet yearning for community, purposefulness, and meaningful work that disaster often provides. A Paradise Built in Hell is an investigation of the moments of altruism, resourcefulness, and generosity that arise amid disaster's grief and disruption and considers their implications for everyday life. It points to a new vision of what society could become-one that is less authoritarian and fearful, more collaborative and local.
This month in The Nature of Reading Book Club we’ll be reading We Will Be Jaguars by Nemonte Nenquimo.
I was in between quite a few books when trying to pick the selection for February, but as soon as I started reading We Will Be Jaguars, I couldn’t put it down. The rich tradition of oral storytelling permeates the narrative of this now globally-renowned climate activist’s upbringing in her native Waorani tribe in Ecuador’s Amazon rainforest.
If you want a book that will give you hope for the ability to bring about change even in these difficult times, there is so much to learn from We Will Be Jaguars.
We’d love for you to join us to read this powerful book—you can sign up here.
For our upcoming episode of Attending Together and our March meeting of Between the Leaves Book Club, we’ll be reading the beautiful book The Serviceberry by Robin Wall Kimmerer. Indeed, tomorrow we’ll be releasing the Attending Together episode where we discuss it! I’m also very excited about our next book picks, but I’ll keep you guessing until then…
You can listen to previous episodes of the podcast here and register for the free Between the Leaves Book Club here.
For this month’s seasonal recommendations, I have three books to share from very different genres! The first is The Courage of Birds and the Often Surprising Ways They Survive Winter by Pete Dunne. This was one of the books I almost chose for book club since Pete Dunne is a New Jersey native and the book is so fitting for this time of year. Packed full with fascinating information about the habits of birds and how they manage this difficult season, this lovely book is broken up into short sections and perfect to dive into each wintry day.
The next recommendation is a wintry classic: Wintering by Katherine May. If you’re going through a difficult time (or feeling the brunt of the difficult time the country is going through), this book can help you weather the dark months and find light in unexpected places. Reflecting on the wide variety of ways in which she herself and society at large respond to challenging times, May helps the reader sit with their feelings and find moments of light in the melancholy.
Lastly, we have The Ministry for the Future by Kim Stanley Robinson. I’m recommending this one firstly because the eco-fiction novel explores what happens as the climate worsens and international governments finally start to take targeted action (not soon enough, as in our world), but also because this lengthy book is just the kind of long read to get you through winter nights. While the book opens with a somewhat intense scene of a climate disaster, the novel overall is filled with a quiet, persistent optimism on all that we can save.
You can learn more about the books and purchase them below.
From our own backyards to the rim of the Arctic ice, countless birds have adapted to meet the challenges of the winter season. This is their remarkable story, told by award-winning birder and acclaimed writer Pete Dunne, accompanied by illustrations from renowned artist and birder David Sibley. Filled with unforgettable facts, wit, and moving observations on the natural world, Dunne’s book is for everyone; from the serious birder who tracks migration patterns, to the casual birder who logs daily reports on eBird, to the backyard observer who throws a handful of seed out for the Northern Cardinals and wonders how the birds magically appear in the garden when temperatures begin to fall.
An intimate, revelatory book exploring the ways we can care for and repair ourselves when life knocks us down. Sometimes you slip through the cracks: unforeseen circumstances like an abrupt illness, the death of a loved one, a break up, or a job loss can derail a life. These periods of dislocation can be lonely and unexpected. A moving personal narrative shot through with lessons from literature, mythology, and the natural world, May's story offers instruction on the transformative power of rest and retreat. Ultimately Wintering invites us to change how we relate to our own fallow times. A secular mystic, May forms a guiding philosophy for transforming the hardships that arise before the ushering in of a new season.
The Ministry for the Future is a masterpiece of the imagination, using fictional eyewitness accounts to tell the story of how climate change will affect us all. Its setting is not a desolate, post-apocalyptic world, but a future that is almost upon us. This extraordinary novel from visionary science fiction writer Kim Stanley Robinson will change the way you think about the climate crisis.
Since we moved a couple of weeks ago, it has been a busy time of running around to various stores picking up things we need for the new apartment. This Monday I went to try and find some things at a few thrift stores in Morristown. I bought myself lunch along the way and drove just down the road to New Jersey Audubon’s Scherman Hoffman Wildlife Sanctuary. It was a spur of the moment decision to stop here so I didn’t have my binoculars with me, but I thought it would be nice to do some birdwatching as I ate and perhaps do a bit of wandering afterwards.
Since it was Monday afternoon, I was the only one there, which likewise filled the area with magic and gave the feeling that it was just me, the birds, and the blanketing of snow. I added some new birds to my life list, and I was especially delighted by their tracks that criss-crossed all over the smooth covering of snow. I had thought that checking things off my to do list that day would bring me comfort and satisfaction, but it was truly this moment amidst the busyness of it all that restored my spirits and helped me continue on with the list.