The last time I wrote I talked about how recording brief notes or fragments can pull you into the present to create a more defined, lasting memory. I mentioned how these lists, texts, and fragments when collected are themselves an art form. A Zuihitsu is a Japanese genre that is comprised of casual and loosely connected fragments, observations, lists, and ideas.
What I appreciate about this form is that it lends grace to our schedules and seems to mirror our 21st-century tech-induced minds. It gives space to record life in what feels most true while living it- the spontaneity, the imperfection, the quick observation, the joy of remembrance, and observation of the small.
I asked for readers to send their Zuihitsu-inspired summer bits. My own writing this month is as loose as August’s sweltering afternoons and fragmented as its electric stormy nights. Below are the submissions, including a few of my own.
I love that alongside recordings of summer, there is also a thoughtful reporting note from a physical therapist, a text, memories, and a timely question. They feel personal and individual, and simultaneously communal and universal when collected together.
Anytime you have a fragment, note, text, idea, etc. that you want to share, send it my way. I decided to keep an ongoing document and send out a Zuihitsu-inspired essay after each season. My last Tea, Working with Time, includes additional examples.
Above me, branches toss.
After the storm: dead ash trees on the roads, new air, and steel colored waves.
On that note, I’m gonna look at my candle in my robe & doze.
She just yelled, “Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit!” I forget what that means.
Sizzle of rice in a hot ceramic bowl.
Lakefront breeze. The jingle when my Divvy bike unlocks. Del Seoul shrimp tacos.
She knew the first line to every Irish song. "To ignite the circle & keep the songs rolling." Her eyes they shone like diamonds.
Murmuring continues. So does glass clinking.
Overwhelmed by reunion—how do we balance the joy of togetherness with the need to spend time alone?
One leopard seal. Two. Endless rippling. White-lined foam. Message failed to send.
Seeing old school friends at the beach: from 20 yards I recognized Pilar’s smile, though it had been 20 years.
Sailboat. Triangle floats as an orange dips into Jersey.
A child had delayed, but not atypical development. They weren’t missing milestones or going about them incorrectly, it just took them longer. It made sense to me, and not just in regard to gross motor development. Most of us will get there, just in different ways, or on different timelines.
Deep purple of blueberry. Deep red of cherry.
August quotes I’m breathing in
“70 years of moments. 70 years of being human.”1
“A mind full of shame cannot learn.”2
“Whatever you think the world is withholding from you, you are withholding from the world. Outflow determines inflow.” 3
“You are the ocean pretending to be a wave.”4
“The smell of oceans was around us…”5
“City of stars.”6
xx
Colleen
1 Patt Smith, “How Does It Feel",” New Yorker 2016
2 Sharon Salzberg, On Being, 2021 (2020)
3 Eckhart Tolle, A New Earth
4 Emily Fletcher, Almost 30, 2021
5 Carmen Gimenez Smith, “Photo of a Girl on a Beach”
6 City of Stars, La La Land (song gets me every time)
I love that the Zuihitsu form has found a place in your life (and this newsletter). Lovely! Your quotes at the end, too.