📿 The Laundry turns ONE YEAR old.

And THIS Sunday: Meditate and Write.

Where I write The Laundry— when I’m not laying on the floor with my legs up a wall, camped in the grocery store parking lot, dictating a voice memo to my phone, or any of the other haphazard ways and places that I actually write.

Hello you, Adreanna here with a special update of The Laundry —

When Lodro had the idea to start writing a Substack back in September 2023, I jumped to invite myself along. Our daughter was 3 months old at the time and I was awake at all hours of the night, nursing her and soothing her back to sleep, devotedly reading the latest from Substack writers that I had recently discovered. 

These Substack essays, I found, were the perfect length for midnight reading while rocking a baby back to sleep. Five to ten minute, bite sized human stories that gave me a window into the lives of others — a lifeline, really, from the surreal vortex of care-taking a newborn, which was a moment in time I found both deliriously cozy and isolating. I often described the feeling tone of this time period as having chronic jetlag in a foreign country where I don’t speak the language.

Reading these bitesized, human stories being published on Substack gave me a sense of the internet as a connection portal that I haven’t felt from social media in years.

I also knew how easy it would be for me to look up from the baby vortex, three years down the road, to find that I had written absolutely NOTHING. I could see a very possible reality where in the absence of time, space, and bodily autonomy, writing would become something that I “used to do before I had a kid,” a practiced skill and passion that withered fruitlessly on the vine—unless I had firm deadlines that I promised others I would hit.

So when Lodro pitched the idea of writing a Substack, I eagerly asked to join in. One year later, I’m so grateful to the iteration of me, exhausted in that rocking chair, who had the inspiration to do so.

Our rotating Friday missives have been both a deadline AND a lifeline for me; intersecting lines that hold me accountable to writing and offer a channel of connection.

It’s been a joy to find fresh kindling for writing each week. It’s been a joy to stretch to articulate my personal experience of meditation practice, both on and off the cushion, in ways that are hopefully helpful and resonant. It’s been a joy in the same way that parenthood and practice are joys—which is to say, sometimes incredibly challenging. And worth the effort.

It’s been a joy to know that you are on the other side of this screen — soft, temporary, complex, weird, lovable, resistant, human—with unlimited choices (and unlimited possible distractions), and that you offer your time and attention to read along with us here. 

Lodro and I have been joyously discussing lots of new ways to show up for our paid subscribers in Year 2 (see forthcoming announcement from him about a giveaway) and to all subscribers - free and paid…

I know I say this a lot, and also: with good reason. THANK YOU. Truly. 

Here’s to YEAR ONE of the The Laundry!

And onward.

📒 THIS SUNDAY: 9/29

I’ll be hosting our first Meditation + Writing gathering for paid subscribers.

We’ll gather at 4pm EST via Zoom, and spend an hour, beginning with an opening chat. I’ll lead us in a lightly guided meditation practice and share a favorite passage from the beautiful book Sadness, Love, Openness by Chokyi Nyima Rinpoche as a prompt to inspire our writing session. We’ll write a bit together, and then we’ll circle back up to close our time. I’m envisioning a cozy and casual gathering without an ounce of pressure to make anything happen. Maybe even bring tea?

Patrons of The Laundry will find the Zoom link at the bottom of this page. I hope to see you there!