Dear Starlight,
Lately, I’ve been circling around the idea of being better. What if I stopped chasing the perceived need to be“better”? Again, this Lao Tzu quote: "Be content with what you have; rejoice in the way things are. When you realize there is nothing lacking, the whole world belongs to you."
Some days, I wake up with a quiet unease, a sense that I’m missing something. By midday, the familiar whisper returns: You’re letting yourself down; you could be better and doing better. It’s a tireless quest, this pursuit of being better.
On Thanksgiving, I painted my eyes dark black. Who does that? Could it be me? The next day, I painted them black again, I dressed myself in a scent that evoked summer nights—amber, sunscreen, sand, and smoke—and ventured out into the world.
My morning was ordinary: a walk by the river, journaling, retrieving the mail. But as I sat at my desk, computer in hand, I felt a sudden weight. I carried the laptop into my bedroom, lay fully dressed under the sun streaming through the window, I rolled over and let exhaustion blanket me with dreams.
This year, a persistent question has been my companion: What if it’s not the what, but the way that needs to change in my life to feel well? Not the work, not the people or places, but my relationship to them. Maybe the transformation isn’t about leaving the life I’ve built, but about inhabiting it differently—like a caterpillar that stops crawling and starts flying, yet never leaves home.
My son has started asking directional questions: What do I love? What am I good at? What do I want to do? I find myself walking alongside those questions now as a forty something woman. More than two decades of effort: raising a family, building a career, fulfilling roles. Attempting to win a game having started with missing pieces. Much of my life's effort and choices have been driven by fear of the missing net.
There’s never been a net.
And yet, somehow, there’s always been a net.
There’s a weariness in me, a longing to turn the page. I want a new chapter where play, curiosity, and exploration guide my days. The horizon is hazy. I feel… a little lost in middle age.
Last week, I found the Tao Te Ching. Or, rather, it found me through chance. The Tao, or The Way, suggests that life’s truest path is one of non-action—of flowing with what is, instead of striving. The idea of non-action feels radical. Could this be where I land?
I think back to Lao Tzu’s words. "When you realize there is nothing lacking, the whole world belongs to you." Enough isn’t a destination; it’s a way of being. It’s not about seeking something outside of yourself but settling into the truth that you already are. That in itself is an adventure.
Maybe that’s the point: letting go of better. Maybe the Way is not a place to reach but a place to become where you already are. Maybe being lost is the Way. Maybe I paint my eyes black to see better in the sun. Maybe to be seen. Maybe to camouflage in the dark and become invisible. Maybe I paint my eyes black because they remind me of the beautiful women of the eighties, when I was just a girl dreaming of one day growing up to be a middle-aged woman who wore makeup.
PS. For anyone who is doing the advent calendar from last weeks letter, let me know! I’m excited to play alongside you. Today we open the week of HOPE.
Great eye makeup…
Would love to see your black eyes😊