There’s a hard lump where my right middle finger meets my palm. I noticed it at my brother’s wedding two Octobers ago–a ring I like to wear was chafing in a way it hadn’t before. 

I rubbed it like a worry stone. Hoped it was an oddball strain from all the embroidery I’d picked up, something that would fade.

It remained. 

I googled and was met with an autocomplete answer before typing the full query. A good sign, a signal it’s not some rarity.

Weeks later, I position my hand on an x-ray mat. Afterwards, a PA holds my palm and rubs circles on my tender finger joint.

“Yeah, you can do that. If you change your mind, just call our scheduler and tell her I sent you!”

My own search informed me that it typically dissipates within 2 years, that often, leaving it is recommended. Since the official diagnosis, I have not worried my joint, the lump is far less inflamed without my constant pressure.

Taking care of yourself involves a lot of these micro care decisions.
What’s big enough not to ignore, what slides?

I started rock climbing in April of this year, around the same time I started my new job.

It is good to show up several times a week, to fit my social calendar around this schedule.

It’s like an athletic sleeper agent woke up in me.

It’s been in me this whole time?
It’s been in me this whole time.

My fingers grow calloused.
Every so often, I touch my finger joint—is the lump still there?
It is.
But I barely notice now.

You know what happened with my new job? They lost my resume for a month, and then finally dug it out of an inbox the week before I was going to speak at a design event. Two people on the leadership team at this company I’d applied to were at the event. I spoke about what I love. They got it.

The next day, I interviewed. It felt like a good conversation. My personal work was mentioned as much as my professional. These newsletters I write as gifts every month spill into my other work. My talk about Midwest visuals mattered in this interview for a copywriter job.

A few months in to the job, a few of us started a run club.

Shockingly, I loved it.
(This is a shock to me and absolutely no one else.)

See, I ran competitively for ten years. From seventh grade to senior year of college, I raced. Miles, 5ks, 10ks.

I’d quit after graduation. Needed to. I’ve had little bursts of running since then, but it felt hard and boring, and I much preferred the ease of a long hike. I thought I was over it, I thought I wasn’t competitive.

I thought it was an easy cleave, just put the running in its own box and stick it under the bed.

But here with my new coworkers, running, I had to admit I knew what I was doing. I was fast and I knew how to run through burning lungs. And I was enjoying myself.

My favorite part of running is doing it with people. How could I forget?

In the running world, there’s all this talk of gritty discipline. But what held me to the discipline was the warmth of going together. Of laugher and chatting, clapping after an interval workout, and forming mega-tables in the cafeteria. Of always knowing who I’d sit with.

Isn’t that what I still want?
It’s been in me this whole time.

It can start in your body.
A knowledge.

Something’s in you.
You could try to dig it out or let it come to fullness while you move around.

The new and old circle around each other.
It’s been a delight to come back to myself even in the new things.

Thanks for being here. I hope your new year has familiarity in its freshness.

❤️, Ten

Elsewhere

I redesigned my website to look like my sketchbook threw up on it. This is the most me I can make a project, and a lot of people have strong positive response to it, which is such a treat!

The subheadings on my site are set in a custom font made by me. If you are interested in making your own font, do it! I traced my letterforms in Adobe Illustrator, converted them to a font with the Fontself extension, then used Fontie to create all the webfont files. Pretty breezy!

I love the vibe of William Ellery’s online shop. This blanket hat?? Perfect. It’s so satisfying to find a website that feels like its own aesthetically self-contained world.

A paper calendar is my favorite way to organize my schedule. For 2025, I went with this stunner from Lauren Blair, a nature-loving painter and tattoo artist.