Dear friends,

Somehow we've arrived at the final days of 2022. Before I share my rambling list of recommendations, how about we start again with a poem, this time by Arab-American writer Philip Metres.

Devotional (After a Muslim Prayer)

Light my face and light the flesh of my flesh,
Light each my eyes and light inside my sight,
Light the light that makes me light in the bones,
And in my hands, light, and in my loins, light,

And light your light before and behind me,
Above and beneath me, light to my right
And light to left, light to my enemies
Who in the moral dark will use my light

Against me, light the dull swords of my ribs,
The thick fist within, light the blood-hot rooms
Pulsing there, light the gates when they swing wide
To the stranger, light more light on my tongue,

In the light, light more light, in the black, light,
and when it’s time to snuff this wick—light that light.

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This year has been full of relentless darkness. I do not want to burden this missive with a list of the unconscionable ways humans have brought harm to each other and the planet, so I will stop myself here and instead focus on what this poem, this prayer, asks for: light in every crevice of our body and our lives.

Some sources of light for me this fall: Walking regularly with my mom around her neighborhood a mile away, where I savored every story she told me and was reminded time and time again of what it looks like to persevere in dark times. Discovering a 100-word piece I wrote was chosen as one of the New York Times 12 Tiny Stories of Gratitude published around Thanksgiving (below is Kristina's dove illustration I submitted with it, though they ended up going with their own art). Wrapping up one year of no longer working in university communications/public relations (after 12 years!) and now fully leading Stanford's public humanities initiative, where I got to help faculty publish op-eds about reproductive freedom and articles about the White Lotus, run workshops on how to communicate with a broad audience beyond the academy, and envision a new essay series, "In Their Own Words." Savoring a magical weekend in the coastal redwoods with Enrique for my 36th birthday and eating beautiful plant-based food to my heart's content. And exchanging countless texts, calls, recipes, memes, poems, and more with many of you, my ever-luminous friends.

May your 2023 be full of love and light, from within and from all that nourishes you.

Warmly,

Natalie

A Few Things I Enjoyed In 2022, Part II (Part I Here)

{Listen}

Music: Here's my 2022 mishmosh playlist representing songs/artists/albums I was grooving to. For those of you who don't use Spotify, I put the playlist on YouTube. Please shuffle--unlike that mixed CD you made for your crush in the 10th grade, this is not in a painstaking narrative order. And disclaimer: I did not watch most of the videos, so these are recommendations on music alone!

Podcast: I spent multiple car rides in tears fall listening to Anderson Cooper's gorgeous nine episode exploration of loss and grief, All There Is. Although I've had a soft spot for Anderson that dates back to high school (apologies to my first year college roommate Cat who had to look at a magazine cut-out of his face for months), this podcast is not hosted by the buttoned-up-CNN reporter but rather a raw, emotional son, brother, and now father who uses the losses that have framed his life since the age of 10 to open a conversation about the collective experience of grief we all navigate as humans. You'll hear conversations with Stephen Colbert on the plane crash that killed his father and two brothers; artist Laurie Anderson on the death of her partner Lou Reed; and palliative care physician BJ Miller on how joy can coexist with sadness, to name just a few.

{Watch}

Let's get (even more) personal: As the daughter of a Palestinian Muslim mother born in Damascus, Syria and my late Iraqi Catholic father born in Kirkuk, I never saw any reflection of myself or my family on TV--except on the world news in a haze of violence, suffering, and stomach turning politics that are the true weapons of mass destruction. So it's hard to articulate how meaningful it is to see the visibility and popularity of Mo--a new biographical Netflix comedy based on the life of comedian Mo Amer as a Palestinian refugee in Houston--and the first series to have a Palestinian lead on US television. And to watch the continued success of comedy drama Ramy, which in its third season becomes even more experimental in its exploration of Muslim, Arab-American, and immigrant life. December brought two must-watch films along this vein: The Swimmers, based on the true story of Syrian sisters who fled Damascus to pursue their dreams and a safer life, and Farha, which deftly illuminates the 1948 Nakba/Arab-Israeli War in Palestine through the eyes of a spirited 14-year old girl.

TV: The Bear for those tense restaurant kitchen moments | The Old Man (I have a low tolerance for violence but this drama thriller about an ex-government operative living off the grid starring Jeff Bridges, Alia Shakwat, and John Lithgow got me) | Las de La Ultima Fila, or The Girls at The Back (A poignant Spanish comedy about a 5 close girlfriends in their 30s who go on a trip full of dares/adventures after learning one of them--we don't know which one--has cancer. Trust me, it's good.) | A League of Their Own (Broad City's Abbi Jacobson and crew have re-imagined the classic 1992 film into a TV series with new dimensions) | Fleishman Is In Trouble (Jessie Eisenberg and Claire Danes make the intricacies of a broken marriage palpable)

New seasons of: Reservation Dogs | Abbott Elementary | The White Lotus | Never Have I Ever | Only Murders in the Building | The Secret Sex Life of College Girls

Movies: Everything Everywhere All At Once (Wow wow wow wow) | Here's to You, Leo Grande (Emma Thompson plays an insecure retired school teacher who discovers more than just a sexual awakening when she hires a dreamy sex worker to stir things up)

{Read}

Fiction: Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin (Utterly captivated by this three-decade spanning story of friendship and love that revolves around video game creation, which I care absolutely nothing about and yet--). | Honor by Thrity Umrigar (a tough, poignant story set in India today about religion, culture, abuse, relationships, the role of a journalist, and so much more) | Love Marriage by Monica Ali (a multicultural engagement in Britain grounds this novel about the layers of modern identity) | The School for Good Mothers by Jessamine Chan (a damning, dystopian picture of motherhood set in state-run parenting reeducation camp) | One Italian Summer by Rebecca Serle (a love story between a daughter and her deceased mother) | You Made a Fool of Death With Your Beauty by Akwaeke Emezi (insert fire emojis here)

Nonfiction: Solito by Javier Zamora who I am so lucky to know (A breathtaking memoir about his 3,000 mile journey from El Salvador to the US as an unaccompanied 9 year old) | Mating in Captivity by Esther Perel (Evergreen relationship insights from psychotherapist and queen of erotic intelligence) | How to Write an Autobiographical Novel by Alexander Chee

Poetry: my dear friend Eric Tran's bold, brave, and sexy second collection Mouth, Sugar, & Smoke | The World Keeps Ending, and the World Goes On by Franny Choi | O by Zeina Hashem Beck | Your Emergency Contact Has Experienced An Emergency by Chen Chen

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"Is it foolish to speak of little joys that occur in the middle of tragedy? It is our humanity. Whatever we have left of it. We must not deny it to ourselves." --Ilya Kaminsky