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comfort in creation.

March 28, 2020 by Sonya Cheney

If I’m being honest, my daily life hasn’t changed as much as so many others in the wake of the pandemic. I’ve never had much tendency to leave the house in the first place; even when I would be exceptionally bored and think, “Maybe I’ll just go to Barnes & Noble and browse for a little while,” I would inevitably find myself still at home and before I knew it the day would be over. The biggest changes have come in the form of Dan working from home for the foreseeable future and the constant unknown of what he’ll actually manage to come back with from the grocery store, not matter what I put on the list.

I’ve always been a homebody, and I’m okay with that. I’m one of the people all of the introvert/pandemic memes are referencing on Instagram. But even though I was made for a life at home all day, every day, I’ve still been on a roller coaster of discomfort and anxiety over the past couple of weeks. Some days I feel hopeful and confident; other days, I check the news. Sometimes, it just doesn’t feel worth it to stay informed.

Although I’m doing pretty much all of my usual stuff each day, the small, normal things have taken on even more meaning for me. Being able to bake my own bread (something an astounding number of people have started doing), knitting, even starting my small herb garden have all helped me get through each day and feel like I have some semblance of control and…not significance, exactly, but something like it.

In all my love for oddities and the macabre, I of course find myself going down conspiracy theory rabbit holes every once in a while, though I would far from consider myself a conspiracy theorist. I’m more like a casual observer, and I scoff at most conspiracy theories after researching them. I’ve come up with my own surrounding the pandemic, but they come entirely from my own imagination so they’re more personal entertainment than anything; however, this entire situation has cemented my homesteading dreams. For years I’ve wanted to make my way into a slower, more self-sufficient lifestyle. We had our own little brood of chickens a few years ago, and I still love the experience of collecting the eggs and just hanging out with the chickens. (Sometimes they were friendly enough that they would even jump into my lap, which, as an animal lover, I had such a blast discovering!) There is nothing quite like eggs so fresh the yolk is blinding.

Of course, there’s also nothing like picking up a little box of technology, taptaptapping a screen, and connecting with an endless number of people. I have no intention of disconnecting. I may be an introvert, but I’m not a hermit.

In this scary and uncertain period that we’re all going through, I’ve found so much comfort in not only being able to maintain my usual habits, but also in using my skills to help keep my family going. I can cook for us. I can keep us warm. I can take care of the baby. I have a role to play and a way to keep busy, and my skills and hobbies aren’t useless, even if it has felt like they were for so long. As someone whose work is often creative and abstract with no immediate monetary payoff, if any, it’s hard to justify how I spend my days in a capitalist society. In this time of crisis—whether you believe it’s big or small or you’re not even sure anymore—it’s reassuring to know that the things I do that don’t make money are still worthwhile.

recent reads | winter 2020.

March 21, 2020 by Sonya Cheney

I’ve decided that I’m going to do a seasonal wrap up of what I’ve been reading. I won’t review everything, and what I do review won’t be long or particularly “professional” sounding, but I do want to share because I love knowing what others are reading or have read. It’s a great way to find something new to add to my TBR (as if I need to add to it at all), and it’s fun to hear what others think about something I’ve read as well.

Winter Top Three

American Predator: The Hunt for the Most Meticulous Serial Killer of the 21^st Century by Maureen Callahan // It’s not often that books terrify me, but when they do, it’s usually because they’re nonfiction, and humans are scarier than any monster the imagination could conjure up. I can’t remember where I first learned about this book, but it was quickly added to my TBR late last year, and I finally got around to reading it in January after my library hold on it came in.

Big Little Lies by Liane Moriarty // I haven’t watched the show—simply because we don’t get HBO—but this was the first book that I read after I got my Kindle in February, and I devoured it. I was frantically texting my friend Kat all of my theories because she has seen the show, and it was pure fun and entertainment, even with the very difficult topics within the book.

Throne of Glass by Sarah J. Maas // This one. I read this one after years of hype, and I kind of just picked it up on a whim because I’d been watching booktube videos again, so it was back on my radar. After only a few chapters, I knew I was in love. I don’t read a ton of fantasy novels—YA or otherwise—but this one is a deserving exception to my rule. (Which isn’t a rule—I just don’t pick them up as often as contemporaries.) This book was so much fun, and I even told Dan that I wished he’d been home as I read the climax of the novel so he could see my face as I was FREAKING OUT. I cannot wait to continue with the series.

ostara intentions.

March 14, 2020 by Sonya Cheney

Spring is coming.
(Some days, spring already feels like it’s here.)

I’m not Wiccan, but as part of my craft, I like to recognize the Wheel of the Year, to observe the changing of the seasons and the way it affects the everyday. This is my first year of actively observing the Sabbats, rather than simply putting them in my planner and doing a little mental acknowledgement when the day rolls around, so I thought I’d share my particular plans and activities for this Spring Equinox.

Plant Seeds
We’re moving soon, but I don’t want that to stop me from doing things I love, even if I might have to adjust the way I do them. One of the first things I plan to do on the Equinox is start planting some seeds for my herb garden. The nice thing about focusing on an herb garden this year is that it’s easier to transport than, say, a vegetable garden might be as we’re between houses. Planting seeds is a good way to acknowledge the birth and renewal aspect of the season, and I’m looking forward to getting my small selection started.

Spring Clean
This is a two-for-one activity because it’s a way to celebrate while also being a necessity as we get prepped for moving. To be fair, I spring clean every year (and not just in the spring), but the difference is that this year I plan to do so with the intention of a fresh start, a new animation of our space. If that just so happens to include an entirely new space altogether, well, that’s just taking it to the extreme. I am okay with that approach.

Go for a Walk/Forage
Lately, when Finn and I are out and about on a walk to the library or to the grocery store, I find myself peering down at the sidewalk and finding the occasional “nice stick.” That’s what I tell Dan when we get home. “I found another nice stick!” My current collection is intended for a pentagram craft, but in general they’re nice to have around as a way to bring the outdoors inside without being terribly overwhelming or in the way. The plan is to take a walk with Finn—weather permitting—to collect any stones, sticks, flowers, or feathers that I might come across and feel a connection to. They’ll go on my shelf of other witchcraft items and be saved for crafts or spells later on.

I also intend to do a little baking—hot cross buns, maybe, or a small lemon-honey cake—but for the most part, the above are my main plans for the day. I especially think they’ll be fun with Finn, because he may not be able to appreciate planting seeds, exactly, or the greater experience of spring cleaning, but he’ll get to be outside (weather permitting), which is always nice, and I think the energy flow between him, the plants, the house, and myself will be a huge positive for the both of us. I see us falling into bed with a good day behind us and a bright spring ahead.

the seven of bows.

March 7, 2020 by Sonya Cheney

When I flipped the card for day two of the Goddess Tarot Challenge I’m participating in for March, I was genuinely curious what it would tell me. The prompt for the day asked what I needed to focus on to support my inner goddess, and to be honest, I had no real guesses what would come up. When I turned over the Seven of Bows in the Wildwood deck that I’m using, I looked at the image but still had to check the deck book for the meaning.

“Allow the passing of the old”
“Accept change”
“Focus on what you really need in life and what to dispose of”

My first thoughts, as they always tend to be, were about writing, but after a few moments thought, that reaction didn’t seem thorough enough. It’s not a suggestion that I let go of writing, but rather that I let go of how I think about writing.

I spent a bit of that night journaling about the card and my relationship with writing over the years, and it’s amazing how on only the second day of this challenge such a strong message has come across.

I’ve been writing since I learned to hold a crayon and put it to paper. I remember half-begun short stories written in elementary school about ghosts and adolescent horror. I remember my first writing competition submission. I remember my first LiveJournal account (and second, and third…). Quitting writing itself is entirely out of the question; it’s too great a part of me to even think it’s possible no to do it anymore. Reframing my mindset, however, is the message I got from that card, and since then I’ve been meditating on my relationship with writing.

I’ve kept journals since middle school, and even if I go months without writing in them, I always come back, usually when my emotions are in the midst of some upheaval. In middle school, my entries were full of angst and heartbreak, the crushing weight of rejection and the confusing presence of affection. There were angry tirades against everyone around me. There were lengthy love letters to the peers who caught my eye. I held nothing back. As I got older, though, and some things were chronicled online instead of in my journals, I felt the walls starting to come down on my words. I became more careful about what I wrote because I started to care about the work being palatable. I started to care about others reading it rather than about just writing. It’s been over ten years since that happened, and I’m only now beginning to realize the consequences.

In that time, the closest I’ve come to being as open as I was in those first LiveJournal posts was in my personal zines. I’m not sure what it was about the medium that opened me up, and even as I wrote those I was still guarded about what I shared. It’s not that being selective is a bad thing, but it feels like this approach has left me falling just short of my potential. Instead of just writing, I’m always analyzing what I’m going to say before I even put it down.

My first step is determining my ideal reader, and to be honest, I think I’ve already done that: I want to write things that Finn would want to read. I never realized it before, but I want to write things that my child could read and be interested in, be entertained by, and be proud of—even if they’re hard to write and read sometimes. I want my writing to be honest with Finn, whether it’s hard truths or silly musings.

My next step is just to get writing.

Winter Top Three

Other Books I Read This Winter