Beauty and Substance
Week 1 — taproot
In this life, I am many things. A mom, a sister, a gardener, an animal lover, a writer … one label is certainly not adequate for any human. Often I also find myself accompanied with the titles too busy, overwhelmed, blocked, and depressed. When these latter labels creep darkly into my existence I submit to them at first. There are often lessons to be found in that somewhat miserable place. Usually after not too long, however, I pull myself up and do my best to look for the light. To find something, anything, any little bit of inspiration or humor or love to counter the darkness. As I get older, I find that these lifesaving little nuggets seem to come to me, be revealed to me, by an unseen but very felt force.
It was in a dark moment that I found a magazine called taproot and where my Medium story begins. Here will live my points of light, maybe some short stories, observations of all things I find wonderful in our world and more. It is my hope in sharing these points of light that someone in the dark seeking solace out there will find these words and, fingers crossed, some joy. taproot is my first offering.
I don’t work for the magazine (though I may aspire to)and this is not a paid endorsement. It’s a thank you letter of sorts to an exceptional publication that deserves gratitude and praise for being inspirational, information-packed, and well, absolutely gorgeous. A feast for the mind, eyes and heart.
Ah, taproot. The way I feel when I look upon this publication is a peace and joy that is all-body encompassing. Which is precisely why I bought it as I distractedly shuffled through Sprouts one afternoon, when I was in a particular gray place emotionally and mentally. I go to Sprouts a lot this way, largely because Sprouts tends to lift me up out of the mud at least a little, through a tasty truffle, the smell of a particularly pretty candle, or on this day, a magazine.
I almost didn’t buy it. Raising three children requires a budget. Not always incredibly tight, but this was a tight day, which was one of the reasons for my sour mood. When I saw the cover, my breath caught, I thought it was so beautiful. I picked it up to leaf through it while waiting in line. Oh happy sigh of sighs. My day started to brighten. Beautiful photos of incredible vistas, oh, and recipes … a few more pages … is that a knitting pattern?! I need it. Then I looked at the price. It was nine dollars. Nine. For a magazine. With a background in writing and design, I’ve always had a weakness when it comes to paper-based feasts for the eyes. My heart and head start to argue. Can I really justify spending nearly 10 bucks on a magazine when I’ve made it entirely clear to the family that no more money shall be spent before Friday? But, but, it’s so beautiful. And look at the tagline: “Living fully, digging deeper.” This magazine was meant for me. It’s true.love. Really, I’ve heard that before, scolds head. I don’t care; I’m doing it retorts heart. There’s a knitting pattern in there for goodness’ sake, right after a recipe for making your own horseradish mustard. It’s already paid for itself with those two gems.
And with that, the heart won and I clutched my prize, unable to contain my goofy smile. My distracted shuffle through the aisles transformed into a happy gait as I headed for the car. As much as I tend to fall into occasional darkness, it’s incredible how quickly it can turn around when I find that little point of light. For this I am truly grateful.
As soon as I got home, I greedily turned the pages. Goodness. It’s even better than the first leaf-through had teasingly hinted. No advertising. Not. One. Ad. My need for order and clean design fully sated. The table of contents divided into “head,” “hands,” and “heart.” What?! This is too good to be true. Every article, and they are many and long, fed my soul.
Over the next few hours and days I traveled the country through its breathtaking pages, had my heart warmed looking into the eyes of a rare goat on a scenic green plain, gleaned a bevy of planting tips, felt my heartstrings tug through the story of a kindred soul, salivated over the homemade mustard that I envisioned gracing my cupboards come fall, and got teary eyed consuming a heartfelt story about a family and a yurt. These are my people. These stories, instructions, recipes, poems (yes, poems!) felt made for me.
I could go on and on, but then this would get ridiculously sappy and incredulous. All I know is that this magazine brought me out of a particularly dark funk, and it does every time I look at the covers and peruse the pages of my now two issues. Plus, I have the added bonus of anticipating the next issue being brought right to my mailbox in just a few short weeks, because you know my first purchase after that Friday payday was a subscription. Totally worth it.
Thank you, taproot. For you I am grateful.