I never knew how much I cared about brain food until I stopped reading.
I stopped reading when my son was born.
Because I was a new mom who didn’t get maternity leave.
I’d spent the majority of my working life in full-time jobs with decent benefits. Yet somehow, I was freelancing for the birth of both of my children. Not the smartest plan.
I hustled like crazy right up until I went into labor to squirrel away enough of a cushion to buy a couple of weeks off. Then, right back to work.
At the time I was working as a private chef and a freelance writer. Baby arrived in mid-September, quick little return to the hospital for a few days in the NICU, and I was back to work by early October.
Somehow, it also seemed to make sense that the chef—me—would host both my family and my husband’s family for Thanksgiving. AND Christmas.
Easier for everyone to visit with the new grandchild. No travel necessary for new parents.
(I may have even insisted this was a good idea. I was not to be trusted.)
My adoring husband had six weeks of paternity leave at the early childhood education nonprofit where he then worked. Which he stretched out by taking a couple days off a week.
He was amazing in that he washed ALL the cloth diapers. I celebrated and broadcast this to everyone. As did he. It was a huge help. For sure. And he took some amazing pictures.
But I silently seethed when he thought it made sense to take his paternity leave on the two days a week the baby spent with a babysitter. The two days a week I was crazed trying to catch up on my full-time freelance work.
Having spent the other three weekdays pushing off any deadlines I could. Working furiously through every nap. Showering only by the grace of the vibrating chair in the bathroom that kept my newborn happy and within my sight.
I stopped reading.
No Time for Brain Food
Honestly, I was too exhausted by the time I got to bed that I couldn’t make it through more than a page of any book anyway.
Plus, I had mommy brain. Which meant I couldn’t remember why I walked upstairs until I walked all the way back downstairs again and went through the experience of needing the same f*cking thing.
Why read? Brain not functioning.
I am a multi-tasker extraordinaire. If two things can be done in tandem and the combined benefit is greater than what you lose not doing either on its own, I can be persuaded. I have experimented A LOT. I have a handle on what works.
Reading a book didn’t seem to work with much of anything. I couldn’t read a book and push the stroller, wash the dishes, fold the laundry, or make dinner. Audible didn’t yet exist. Podcasts weren’t a thing. Books on tape may have been available from my local library, but who has time to go to the library with a newborn?
I stopped reading.
No Consuming Brain Food
I stopped learning.
Okay, I was learning in a big way about how to be a mom. Which is maybe exactly the intense learning I needed to be doing at the time. But I stopped learning about ideas. I stopped reserving time to think.
I had a second child before I reconnected with reading or thinking. And put both on hold again for another few years.
If I didn’t have time with one baby, I sure didn’t with two.
By the time my kids were 3 and 5, my father had recently died, my husband had been unemployed for a year, and I had taken a full-time job to support the family. I was reading for the job—but about things that weren’t relative to my life or immediate world.
Nothing that made my synapses fire enough to really wake me up and make me feel alive.
Coming Back to Brain Food
I went from maybe getting through a book every two years to having hundreds of books swimming around my head.
Since Audible started keeping track, I have read or listened to 118 books in their entirety, cover to cover. I’ve reread at least five of them. I’ve heard the authors of more than a dozen read from the books themselves. In real life.
I’ve befriended a handful of the authors. I hope to befriend more.
Back to Brain Food
With a Vengeance
Those are just the books. I’ve also taken online courses like a madwoman. Fifteen at least. Not little 45-minute webinars—though I’ve taken plenty of those, too.
In-depth courses, some meeting in real time, on camera, for two to three hours a week. Spanning semesters. With homework. A LOT of homework.
And the podcasts I’ve listened to? The online communities I’ve become part of? The conferences, workshops, masterminds. The dozens and dozens of books I’ve read in smart summaries on Blinkist. The damn Netflix and Hulu series.
There is amazing content EVERYWHERE. And I have been obsessed with consuming as much of it as I can.
The knowledge in my brain is busting out. I can’t hold it all.
So I’m Writing It Down Here
That way, I can come back to it when I need it. And you can benefit from anything of interest to you.
A sneaky little win-win.
Apologies for the fire hose.
I’ll be coming at you with a lot of stuff.
I hope at minimum to share what I’m learning at present.
But I fantasize about going back in time, too. I hope here on the site to also remind myself about the very best brain food I’ve consumed these past few years. The brain food I most highly recommend.
Not as into Brain Food?
I get it.
You may not have time to read 118 books. Or any desire to.
You may feel like you never want to take another course again as long as you live.
You may have LESS time in the midst of this coronavirus pandemic alter universe we’re living in right now.
Like, less time than you can ever remember. Between the homeschooling and the food provisioning and the mask making. The freaking out about how to keep doing your job, not lose your job, or deal with not having a job. The trying to stay healthy and keep everyone you love healthy. If you’re lucky enough to not be sick or love someone who is. Or have lost someone.
You may not want to consume this brain food now—or ever. And I understand.
But If You Like Brain Food…
Then you’ve come to the right place.
Turns out, I’m something of a brain food connoisseur.
And when I find a good thing, the first thing I want to do is share.
So stay tuned.
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