Happy Sunday!

This week, Mindy delves into Joyce Johnson’s memoir, Minor Characters, a poignant exploration that resonates deeply with her ongoing journey of self-discovery and leaving behind rigid traditions. Our oldest suggested this read, knowing well its layers would likely intrigue Mindy. What struck her wasn’t just the vivid tapestry of iconic figures like Kerouac and Ginsberg but also the quiet, introspective rebellion of a young woman charting her course through the conservative 1950s.

Mindy’s reflection brings to light the beautiful, often challenging, echo of Joyce’s journey with our personal transitions. From the confines of religious expectations to the liberating, albeit overwhelming, path of personal authenticity—this memoir acted as a mirror reflecting our shared experiences and the subtle yet profound impacts of literature on our lives.

We hope this week’s post inspires you to think about the narratives that have shaped, challenged, and transformed you. And remember, there’s no one right way to live—just the way that feels right to you.

—david/gonzo

Minor Characters

This week I read the memoir Minor Characters: A Beat Memoir by Joyce Johnson. Our oldest daughter has been working her way through different Beat memoirs and writings and I asked her for a recommendation. She said this was the first one she read, and loved it, and thought it would be a good place for me to start as well. I was absolutely enchanted with this book. Joyce Johnson has such a gift of seeing people and describing them that through her words you feel like you really get a sense of what it would be like to be around the people she describes, both the well-known like Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg, and the unknown, like her dear friend Elise. And there was something so lovely about the compassionate and understanding view she had on her younger self. Most of the book covers just a few years in her life, and it was written two decades later when she was in her forties. I took pictures of and copied down many passages, simply because they described something so perfectly. Here’s a few on the many excerpts that struck me:

“I’ve fallen in love with them all. It’s as though a longing I’ve carried inside yself has suddenly crystalized. To be lonely within a camaraderie of loneliness.”

“Blood and wine—there was something about the decadent absurdity of that party that captured my imagination. Never had I imagined that pleasure could be pursued with such seriousness.”

“I’d learned myself by the age of sixteen that just as girls guarded their virginity, boys guarded something less tangible which they called Themselves. They seemed to believe they had a mission in life, from which they could easily be deflected by being exposed to too much emotion.” 

“In those days I believed, much more than I do now, in the therapeutic properties of art. I thought that if you could only write with perfect honesty about the very thing that was troubling you, you could transcend it, lay it to rest.”

Something I didn’t expect while reading this, was how relatable I found Joyce’s journey of leaving the conservative, Jewish lifestyle she grew up in. She was a young woman coming of age in the late 1950s, but so many of her thoughts and experiences felt similar enough to mine, leaving a conservative, Mormon life in my forties six decades later. Especially the sense of adventure that comes from leaving a path that claims to be The Right Way, and knowing that the people you’ve left behind on that path just aren’t going to understand why you’re doing what you’re doing.

I first heard Hozier’s song Someone New a few months ago and one line jumped out at me:

Would things be easier if there was a right way? Honey there is no right way.

This line encapsulates so much of my personal journey over the past few years. Leaving Mormonism behind has been beautifully freeing but also overwhelming at times. There is comfort in the idea of One Right Way. It feels really nice to hold a belief that you’re doing things Right. It’s comforting. But just because something is comforting, that doesn’t make it true. And from where I stand now, I can’t look at all the ways of Being Human that have been explored throughout the 300,000 years of humanity walking the earth and elevate any one of those paths as The Right Way. And I’m unwilling to sacrifice my personal growth and the challenge of exploration to sign up for any of them.

Figuring out my own path post-religion has been one thing, but it’s been an entirely different thing to figure out Our Path. As we shed aspects of the selves we cultivated in a demanding religion, we show up differently, and we have to navigate things that never came up when we were playing life by the Mormon rulebook. And if that isn’t complicated enough, we also have these five humans we brought into the world to consider. A journey of self-discovery when you’re relatively unattached in your twenties is one thing, but it’s quite a different thing in your 40s while partnered and parenting. Remembering this reality helps me have more compassion on myself and on David. We’re not navigating any of this perfectly, but I see the courage and heart we are bringing to it, and I’m really proud of how far we’ve come.

-Mindy

NEAT!

Stuff we think is neat enough to share! (David⚡️ & Mindy✨)

• This week’s musical obsession for me has been the French duo Polo & Pan. I have added a bunch of their songs to my various playlists, but here’s a few to get you started: Dorothy, Bakara, Feel Good ✨🎶

• It’s (nearly) fall, so our daughter Mali started watching Over the Garden Wall again. If you haven’t seen this animated series, it’s absolutely delightful, with the perfect amount of absurdity. Streaming on Hulu. ✨

PARTING

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DISCLAIMER: This newsletter is for educational and informational purposes only and is not intended as a substitute for professional medical advice.