Hi friend,
It’s safe to say we’re all weary after the last eighteen months. Since Covid, I’ve noticed a kind of mass fatigue with any silver-linings talk and an impatience with platitudes.
I myself developed an “I’m going to need to start carrying an EpiPen”-level allergy to such things during cancer treatment. I know that so much of what people said was well intentioned. But after more bad test results, or after another month-long stay in the hospital, the positivity pushers and their endless encouragement could feel hollow. Eventually, my fellow cancer comrade Max Ritvo and I turned it into a game. You are such an inspiration, he’d say with exaggerated earnestness. God doesn’t give you more than you can handle, I’d reply with a smirk. We’d remind each other: Every day is a gift.
Embedded in these expressions is an impulse to fix the unfixable, to paper over discomfort, to hedge against mortality. Yet the constant positivity and empty platitudes did not erase my fear and anxiety. In my experience, the only antidote for the hard things is moving toward them, bearing witness to them, and saying things as they really are.
Today’s contributor, Abby Alten Schwartz, invites us to engage in just this kind of real talk. Abby was an early member of our Isolation Journals community. It’s been incredible to hear so many of her stories, including how the Isolation Journals broke her open in the most unexpected ways, prompting her to write personal essays which have been published in places like The Washington Post. If you’re a member of our Facebook group, you’ve probably seen her kindness, humor, and wit firsthand.
We feel so fortunate and are very excited to share her words with you today.
Sending love,
Suleika
P. S. We’re excited to announce September’s Studio Visits guest is the New York Times-bestselling novelist Imbolo Mbue—and we’ve chosen her second novel, How Beautiful We Were, for our September book club pick. Mark your calendars for September 12 at 1pm ET, and grab a copy of her book in our Bookshop!
Prompt 159. Real Talk by Abby Alten Schwartz
When my daughter was diagnosed with cystic fibrosis at 21 months, a well-meaning person suggested to me that we all come into this world with a spiritual contract to fulfill—one we choose before birth. I shut her down before she could continue down that thought path. You don’t tell a mother whose heart has been ripped open that her baby chose this. You just don’t.
Years later, with some distance, I was able to examine her beliefs in a more detached way. But in that moment, I filed it away with all the other bullshit platitudes people said to me: God doesn't give you more than you can handle. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
Words like these are used not for connection, but for distancing—to make the person uttering them feel safer. What they are really saying is: This happened to you for a reason (which means it won’t happen to me). You will be better for it (so I don’t have to stand uncomfortably in the presence of your pain).
Here are some truths I have learned:
All situations can make you better for having experienced them. From each difficulty, we have the capacity to learn, to grow, to seek beauty, to turn our attention to the helpers (thank you, Mr. Rogers).
I have learned to look at life like a river. It constantly flows. There are bumps and rapids. Times you have to put all of your power into keeping your face out of the water long enough to gasp a breath, trying not to get pulverized against the rocks. Then there are calmer days, when you drift past lovely scenery, sharing laughter and happiness with the people you love.
Words are powerful. They can inspire or wound. Unite or divide us. I believe the right words at the right time can be a lifeline—not when we grab for clichés, but when we are brave enough to reach deep inside ourselves and speak from a place of vulnerability and truth.
Your prompt for this week:
Write the platitudes, either that you have received or uttered, in the midst of a crisis. Then translate them into real talk—what was actually meant, how those words were received, and what was left unsaid; the truths too uncomfortable to confront.
If you’d like, you can share your response in the comments below, in our Facebook group, or on Instagram by tagging @theisolationjournals.
Today’s Contributor
Abby Alten Schwartz is a Philadelphia-based copywriter, designer and healthcare marketing consultant who recently expanded her writing to include essays, journalism and memoir. Abby’s work has appeared in The Washington Post, Wired and The Manifest-Station. Find her on Twitter at @abbys480.
We’re excited to host Imbolo Mbue for our next Studio Visit.
Mbue is the author of the New York Times bestseller Behold the Dreamers, which won the PEN/Faulkner Award for Fiction and was an Oprah’s Book Club selection. Her new novel, How Beautiful We Were—about what happened when a fictional African village decided to fight against an American oil company that had been polluting its land for many years—is our September Book Club pick.
Paid subscribers also get access to our video archive of past Studio Visits with amazing humans like Elizabeth Gilbert, Jon Batiste, & Nadia Bolz-Weber. We hope you’ll join us!
Fantastic prompt, go Abby! Thank you! I could write at least three responses to this, some would be part of a memoir! Love you.