On TNFro is Reading, I say, “I only have to do 2 things: stay Black and die. Everything is a choice or negotiable.”
It gets a laugh because it sounds like the kind of rule someone makes after looking at a very long to-do list and deciding the list can wait. But there is freedom tucked inside the joke. If those are the only two things I have to do, then the rest of my life is not a sentence handed down by somebody else. The rest is mine to choose.
I can choose what deserves my attention. I can choose what I want to learn, what I want to contribute, and where I need to find balance. I can choose the things that bring me joy without waiting for someone to issue a formal permission slip. Peace and joy are not just nice surprises that appear when the calendar finally behaves. They are choices I practice making.
And, for the record, laughter is very much on the schedule this week.
Stay reading, and make the connections
One of my favorite choices is finding a way to read more books. Not merely acquiring a tall stack and admiring it as though the stack has already absorbed the material. Reading. Thinking. Noticing.
I like to find connections between similar themes and consider who wrote it better. That is my method: read, compare, make connections, and render a verdict. And right now I have a live matchup on the table. I asked Jarvis and Gemini for Black-authored books written in a similar register to John Steinbeck’s East of Eden, and the return came back heavyweight: James Baldwin’s Go Tell It on the Mountain and Alice Walker’s first novel, The Third Life of Grange Copeland. Steinbeck built a family saga on inheritance and choice; Baldwin built one on fathers, faith, and what gets passed down; Walker built one on a man, his two women, and the cost of a life lived on someone else’s terms. Same themes, different rooms. The verdict is pending, and there will be notes. My rotation also includes Terry McMillan, Bebe Moore Campbell, and Brit Bennett. Different voices, different sensibilities, plenty to think about.
Reading Black writers is not a task I need to justify. It is pleasure, curiosity, recognition, and sometimes the beginning of a very good conversation with myself. A book can invite me to look closer at a theme, then another book can come along and make me reconsider what I thought I saw. I enjoy that exchange. I enjoy noticing what a writer chooses to reveal, what she leaves in the room, and how she makes a reader feel the weight of a story.
Then comes the important question: who wrote it better? Steinbeck, Baldwin, or Walker?
I reserve the right to take my time before answering. This is a thoughtful process. There may be notes. There may be a follow-up read. There may be a declaration made over coffee that changes after I have had more coffee. I will say this much already: Steinbeck wrote the Cain and Abel question into California soil, but Baldwin wrote the father-and-son version of it from inside the house, and that distance matters to me. A ruling is coming. Eventually.
Far From Beale Street is part of the life I’m choosing, too. It’s my online bookstore and a home for the books that keep me reading and connecting ideas. You can explore it at the Far From Beale Street Bookshop.
The ramen topping board is now in session
My chosen life also includes a ramen experiment, because not every important question arrives wearing a suit.
The contenders: pork belly and broccolitini, or thin-cut pork ribs marinated overnight with green onions. And yes, broccolitini is my word. We are not calling a committee meeting to workshop it. The name is settled; the topping is under review.
This is the kind of investigation that belongs in my Big Back Ramen Reviews format. I want to know what each ingredient contributes to the bowl. Does it bring flavor? Texture? A reason to be there? A topping does not get a permanent place in my ramen simply because it showed up looking confident. It has to help the dish. If it doesn’t, it can be excluded.
That standing rule is useful beyond dinner. Not everything that can be added should be added. A bowl can get crowded, and so can a day. Choose with intention. Keep what contributes. Let the rest go without holding a farewell ceremony.
I’m still deciding which combination earns its spot. The pork belly and broccolitini have a case to make; the overnight-marinated ribs and green onions are not exactly entering the room without credentials. I’ll let the tasting do the talking. In the meantime, I am happy to have a question worth investigating, and a meal that makes the investigation enjoyable.
A keyboard should make the work feel good
Another choice: finding the next cool keeb to add to my collection. “Keeb” is keyboard, for anyone wondering whether I’ve started naming small woodland creatures. I have my Chilkey boards and the crystal keycap one. The hunt remains open-ended.
This isn’t a dramatic search for a single perfect model with a deadline and a procurement officer. It’s about the pleasure of finding a tool that feels good to use. The right setup can make time at the keyboard a little more satisfying. And when I’m reading, writing, making plans, or doing the actual work behind all the joyful ideas, satisfaction counts.
I don’t need to know the next board’s name today. I can leave room for discovery. That, too, is a choice: not turning every interest into a race to finish it. Sometimes the pleasure is in looking, learning what I like, and letting the next good thing reveal itself.
Routine, gratitude, and the rhythm underneath it all
My daily routine includes something deeper than books, ramen experiments, and a well-chosen keyboard. I also remind myself that “our lives carry this transformative power because our existence is deeply bound to the universe’s fundamental rhythm and law. Nam-myoho-renge-kyo (???????).”
That is how I speak about my Buddhist practice and my own routine. I take nothing for granted. Returning to that thought helps me remember that my life is not separate from the world around me. It keeps me attentive to the choices I make and to how I can contribute positively to the betterment of society.
Practice does not cancel the ordinary parts of a day. It gives me a way to meet them. I can hold a big idea about existence and still wonder what belongs in my ramen. I can reflect on balance and still be excited about a book, a new connection between themes, or the possibility of another keyboard. Ordinary pleasures are not obstacles to a meaningful life. They are part of the life I am choosing to notice.
And yes, coffee belongs in this picture. My mug is central to the joke, and coffee is one of my daily comforts. If you’re pouring along, the FB Roasters Single Origin Favorites Sample Pack is one way to explore a few different coffees. No grand speech required. Just a mug, a moment, and whatever you’re reading.
Let them keep their story
There will always be people who decide they already know what someone else is capable of. I’m glad I’m not the person people look at and say, “Why do you still have a job?” or “She is not that smart.” That is not a story I need to carry.
If somebody wants to keep that narrative in their own head, they can keep it. I’ll be over here with my coffee, doing the work, reading the books, testing the ramen, and making my own decisions. My phrasing is “hold my coffee while I handle what needs handling”, and I prefer it to the “hold my beer” meme. It’s more me. The mug is right there.
Grace first, then receipts.
That’s the energy: unbothered does not mean disengaged. Joy does not mean I stopped paying attention. It means I’m choosing what gets my attention instead of giving every opinion a key to the house.
So I’ll keep choosing books and the connections they invite. I’ll keep asking whether pork belly and broccolitini can beat overnight-marinated thin-cut ribs with green onions. I’ll keep looking for the next keyboard that makes the work feel good. I’ll keep returning to my practice and reminding myself not to take this life for granted.
Peace and joy are not a finish line I cross once and then get to retire from. They are daily work, and the pursuit is the point. The routine makes that pursuit sustainable: read, reflect, choose, laugh, return. I’m grateful for the books, the bowls, the tools, the coffee, and the people sharing this moment with me. Thank you for being here.
This post was created with AI writing assistance and shaped around Felicia’s ideas, language, and personal reflections.