Every Monday since 2015, Hugh wakes up, makes coffee, sits down, and writes an email to thousands of folks in at least five different countries. There’s an original blog-length reflection on where he sees beauty in the world right then and links to five things he saw that week that struck him as beautiful. Because the world is beautiful, but sometimes it’s hard to notice.
This is Life Is So Beautiful, a weekly email from Hugh Hollowell, devoted to the idea that our hope for survival in this brutal world is rooted in finding the beauty that is everywhere, but sometimes hard to find.
Click here to read this on the web
Hey y'all,
In the late years of the 19th century, when my great-grandparents needed to travel to downtown Memphis to go shopping, it was a three-day round-trip journey. One day of travel, one day of being there, and one day back. Needless to say, this was not a frequent journey. My grandfather told my dad about making that tip when he was a small boy: Of dozing in the back of the wagon, of seeing strange sites, of the city's roar, and how it contrasted with the quiet of the family farm.
It was a treacherous journey in those days, filled with potential for disaster. Many of the roads you would travel on if you made that trip now have only been built, or at least paved, in my lifetime. Unpredictable roads, broken wheels and the temperament of the mule pulling the wagon all came into play.
By the end of my grandfather's life in 1958, he would often drive that route in his car. A quick search of Google Maps tells me it is just over a 50-mile trip today, with interstates and modern roads. These days. I know people who make that commute every morning as a matter of routine.
Today I must travel for work from the capital city of Mississippi to the north end of the state, a distance of some 200 miles. It is a journey that most people in my great-grandparent's day would have never attempted. It's far enough that the climate is dramatically different – last week's ice storm they experienced was just cold rain here. In some ways, it's a whole other world.
I will drive it in less than three hours. It's such a short trip as to be unremarkable. The people there are, like I am, so homogenized by the popular media that we all mostly dress alike, sound alike, and have similar interests.
I won't worry much while on the road, never far from cell signals and GPS and roadside assistance. Should an emergency happen, and I need to return home, I can be home in less time than it would take to watch Avengers: Endgame.
There is much less opportunity for wonder and awe in such a trip. What was once thrilling, marvelous, and noteworthy has become routine and mundane.
At the end of the day, that's why I write these letters: I don't want to lose sight of how marvelous it all is. How filled with beauty it all is. How great it is to be alive at this time and place, and how, thanks to the magic of technology, we can see things my ancestors never dreamed possible. And how, despite the technology, we still have access to the same birdsong and sunrises and flowers and laughter they did, and we too still have the capacity for awe, even if we have had our attention to that magical world hijacked.
I write these letters because I want to take that attention back.
Things I published on my blog last week.
2005: I did a hard thing that took me 18 years to accomplish.
(If I ever have an online dating profile, that will be my tagline.)
Thanks for the new members who joined last week. This newsletter remains free and ad-free because of the support of my members, who insist on my making it free for everyone else. Other ways to support this project include buying me a cup of coffee or forwarding it to your friends.
Take care of yourself. And each other.
Hugh Hollowell Jr
Publisher
soverybeautiful.org
Every Monday since 2015, Hugh wakes up, makes coffee, sits down, and writes an email to thousands of folks in at least five different countries. There’s an original blog-length reflection on where he sees beauty in the world right then and links to five things he saw that week that struck him as beautiful. Because the world is beautiful, but sometimes it’s hard to notice.
Click here to read this on the web, or to have a link to share on social media The eclipse as captured in my wildlife pond. NB: Resent, because I missed not one, but two links! I was in a rush this morning, and it shows. Thanks for all the folks who let me know. - HH Hi y’all, Thanks to the folks who wrote and checked in when your inbox didn’t have a note from me in it for two weeks in a row. Over Easter weekend, our cat Felix ended up in the hospital and we spent a few days thinking we were...
Click here to read this on the web, or to have a link to share on social media The eclipse as captured in my wildlife pond. Hi y’all, Thanks to the folks who wrote and checked in when your inbox didn’t have a note from me in it for two weeks in a row. Over Easter weekend, our cat Felix ended up in the hospital and we spent a few days thinking we were going to have to put him down (we didn’t, he’s still with us, thousands of dollars later) and I was a mess. And then last week, my Monday was...
Click here to read this on the web, or to have a link to share on social media Here I am! This is Life Is So Beautiful, a handcrafted weekly dose of hope and aspiration. It’s lovingly curated by Hugh Hollowell, and is devoted to the belief that our hope for survival in this brutal world is rooted in finding the beauty that is everywhere, but sometimes hard to find. I hope you enjoy it. - HH Hey y’all, Born in the early 1970’s, I was surrounded by, and cared for by, people who had come of age...