Welcome to Mia’s Queue, a newsletter at the intersection of curation, connection, and personal change. Usually, I interview undercover tastemakers about what lights them up, where they find inspiration, and what they think we should all be enjoying right now. Today’s edition is part of a more personal series. It was powered by The Objekt’s The Lot Radio set, which I discovered in ’s April 29 newsletter.
I’m obsessed with understanding how big psychological shifts manifest in peoples’ lives. I love to see the ways that, after being so entrenched in default modes of thinking and existing, a person can then become unstuck and start to move forward. It’s never too late!
One of my favorite books that illuminates this phenomenon is “Good Morning, Monster: A Therapist Shares Five Heroic Stories of Emotional Recovery.” My mouth was agape reading about people with horrific pasts and terrible presents, who used self-reflection, grit, and forgiveness to create better lives for themselves. “Good Morning, Monster” is an under-the-hood look at personal change and a titillating glimpse at stories from a therapist’s couch.
The name of the book comes from the mean way a subject’s mother would greet her in the morning. I’ve got a cruel voice lording over me too — my own. She tells me that was a dumb thing to say and gives me 10 reasons why I can’t [fill in the blank] instead of one why I can. I know she’s only trying to keep me safe, but girl has seriously outstayed her welcome. I’m ready to transform my ick-ogre into more of a dorky sidekick, a Care Bear.
I was telling a friend on a walk recently that it’d be really nice to love myself. (Even just writing those words feels icky! It’s embarrassing and triggers a knee-jerk fear of what that would even look like. Too loud? Too opinionated? Too conceited? Shudder.) My friend said her own therapeutic goal is to believe the words: “I am enough.”
“So how’s it going?” we asked each other after recounting various experiences meant to get us closer to our goals.
We looked at each other and laughed at our naïveté. Our goals were delightfully vague and grandiose. We have a long way to go, but we are on the path. For that, we fist-bumped. 👊
Somewhere in the ’00s, I’d forgotten how things were made. A lucky career break, a lifestyle of instant gratification, and my privilege had conditioned me into thinking most things should be fast and easy. Dream job? Check. Anything I want at the click of a few buttons? Check. Food ready in minutes? Check.
The expectation of instant gratification also made it easy to psych myself out if something wasn’t immediately effortless. Like what is writing even for if it isn’t instantly liked by legions of followers?! It’s the whole tree falling in a forest thing. If no one could immediately see my success, I assumed it wasn’t worth doing. It didn’t occur to me that abstaining from things that might bring me joy or help me grow was a form of self-sabotage.
My other approach was to contort myself, in all kinds of unnatural ways, to reach my goals. I listened incessantly to the dictatorship of “shoulds” and “musts” in my head. I’d force myself to do something because someone else thought I should, and then that rule-dictating voice in my head would parrot the should back to me. I used to set my alarms — four of them — at an ungodly hour to try to adhere to an ambitious morning routine of meditation, writing, and exercise before my family woke up. All the things I thought I needed to feel like a complete human, shoehorned in.
Did it happen? No. I’d usually hit snooze for two hours, feel disgusted with myself for being a failure, and fall deeper into a hole of stuckness. Year after year, I’d make lists of goals that never inched forward. I didn’t know how to go from 0-60, so rather than try, I mostly stayed at 0.
My breakthrough came via the idea of microsteps (mixed with a lil good old-fashioned forgiveness). If I’m not a morning person, why would I set myself up for failure by scheduling valued activities during that time? How can I possibly “fix” my relationship with myself if I don’t have a foundation of basics, like getting comfortable with discomfort? How can I expect to find a genuine community through writing if I’m too timid to press publish?
One microstep at a time, that’s how. And if that step turns out to be the wrong one? No big deal. Keep calm and micro-adjust. That post that turned out to be a dud? NBD. Try another idea next time. Overwhelmed by a task? Don’t panic. See how just 10 minutes of focus can dissipate that feeling. Anxious about the future? Maybe just rewind a bit and start with one small thing I can do today.
Go “lily pad to lily pad” is how
put it to me.Ever since I began to understand that change happens through small actions that build into something greater, I can’t stop seeing proof of it everywhere.
• Layer by layer, how mountains are made. I love what
said in his March 31 Substack, “On Slow Movement.”“Remember: Part of what makes mountains so mighty and enduring is that they are built slowly over a long span of time.”
• Bird by bird: This is the title of Anne Lamott’s seminal book on writing, named so for her father’s advice to take it “bird by bird,” one small step at a time, even when things seem hard. I saw this principle in action at the 826 Valencia program, where I volunteer. A high school student’s writing was difficult to follow, but by applying a concept like paragraphs to represent the start of a new idea, her essay began to make more sense. Just then I realized: no one is born a fully formed writer! We learn the craft bit by bit, bird by bird.
• “One day at a time”: Of course I knew this popular AA mantra, but I didn't really know it until now. Focus on the next chess move, not the one 10 steps ahead. (By the time you get 10 moves ahead, you’ll probably have to make a different decision than the one you’re trying to predict right now, anyway!) A sober friend says she sometimes tries to live one hour at a time. I loved this thought of breaking things into tiny, manageable increments.
• Ask the next obvious question: While I was pondering all this, Jay Acunzo sent out his newsletter about how to come up with better ideas for content in less time. (I’m part of Jay and
’s Creator Kitchen program.) In his piece, Jay implores creators to become explorers simply by asking the next obvious question. Again and again.“Creativity is the pursuit of curiosity.” — Jay Acunzo
Jay supports this idea by analyzing a conversation between David Letterman and John Mulaney. In his example, the two comedians workshop a nugget Letterman had been struggling with, about a single shoe in the road. Mulaney successfully turns the premise into a joke by asking the next obvious question: “Why aren’t there two shoes?” Then: “How did it get there?” Then: “What would make someone throw their shoe out of the car?” Etc. Microsteps (micro-questions, actually) transform the premise into a funny bit.
• Micro is the new macro: As I said, micro is everywhere. I came across the idea of micro-meditation in this podcast, micro-obsessions in this newsletter, and in read-my-mind IG posts like this:
These days, when I find myself getting ahead of my skis or trying to tackle something that’s hard to get my arms around, I’ll ask: “What is the next first step I can take?” I need the word “first” in there to remind myself that each step is low stakes, and each time I ask this question it’s a chance to begin again.
Sometimes the answer is the first task on my to-do list.
Sometimes it’s a change of scenery.
Sometimes it’s just remembering to breathe.
I think a lot about that snail in the picture atop this post. How slow and steady it moves. Not exactly in a straight line, but good enough. 🐌
What’s filling me up ⛽️ :
🍿 Brian Eno documentary
A generative AI documentary that changes with every viewing, “Eno” is like watching a movie while the filmmaker is editing it right there with you. Go see it if you have the chance! I knew of Eno’s significance, but not the full extent of his genius or impact. 🙈
Incidentally, while I was looking for a video of how director Gary Hustwit made “Eno,” I found this clip, narrated by Fred Again.., about how Eno got U2 unstuck after the success of “Joshua Tree.” He told them:
“Stop trying to make your music in the restaurant. You make it in the kitchen.”
📻 Song Radio
Speaking of Fred Again.., I found joy in turning a beloved song into a radio station of other songs in the same family. It’s a good way to get your fix, discover similar artists, and feed your Spotify algorithm.
🎙 Search Engine with PJ Vogt
I spend a lot of time for my job at Flipboard explaining what the fediverse is and why it matters. Everyone should listen to this podcast episode, which does an excellent job of putting it in layman’s terms and context. Now you’re ready for the internet’s next chapter. ❤️
Mia’s Queue is a free newsletter about taste, curation, culture, and change. Each edition is full of links hand-picked by authentic people who savor the hunt for the Good Stuff, always strive to be their best, and know that sharing is caring. Thanks for being here!
More Mia’s Queue: Julie • Hailley • Eric • Stella • Lesa • Kyle • Keith • Cecily • Raymond • Marisa • Andy • Sebene • Gil • Alison • Alexis • Storey • Meg • Sadia • Kel • Tracy • Theresa • Vasha • Eva • Sarah • James • Adi • Letitia
Such a beautiful and helpful message. It reminds me of my favorite saying… how we spend our days is how we live our lives. Thank you for sharing. I always look forward to reading your writings when I see them come through. And I’m definitely going to watch the Brian Eno piece.
I love this Mia! I love your raw vulnerability and your thoughtful ponderings of your journey.