Better

In a Word with Jacey Verdicchio

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Hey there!

Here we are, a day into fall, a week from turning the corner into October. A friend told me last week that September is one of the hardest months of the year for people (based on spikes in suicide rates and depression). If you’re struggling, I hope you know you’re not alone.

Quick reminder: In A Word now has a companion podcast!

You can listen by hitting the play button at the top of the email, or by clicking the “Listen in podcast app” link below the play button. (Make sure to click the link from your phone if you want to listen in your podcast app.) The podcast gives me space to share more thoughts that don’t fit in this already lengthy newsletter. Join me there for even more cultivated thoughtfulness!

In this issue, we’re exploring the word “better.” For optimists, optimizers and idealists, the idea that things can always get better is full of hope. In some cases, we must come to terms with things that won’t get better. In others, we must train our eyes to see minuscule drops of grace and tiny steps forward. This theme has a lot for us to ponder, so let’s dive in!

In this issue, you’ll find a essay about how Trader Joe’s has made me a better person, followed by a better collection, and a closing benediction.

I have never seen a cart rack in a Trader Joe’s parking lot, yet I have scarcely seen an abandoned cart. Certain grocery stores require a quarter deposit to use a cart, appealing to cold, monetary interests—return your cart, get your quarter back. Other stores, also honest about the human tendency towards laziness and entropy, simply pay an employee to corral the carts.

At Trader Joe’s, I wouldn’t dare set a bag of Ghost Pepper chips I changed my mind about (when I remember that I have the heat tolerance of an edamame bean) in some random aisle. Why is that?

When you are treated like a human, you act like a human. We can either live by the rule that high expectations will always disappoint us, or we can live in the world of Trader Joe’s.

Joe has surveyed the land, from a magical warehouse in Monrovia, the only warehouse in the history of ever with flattering lighting, probably. (Make no mistake, THERE ARE PEANUTS PROCESSED IN THIS FACILITY, but Joe always warns you and keeps an Epi pen in his smock pocket, right next to the Everlasting Gobstoppers.)

Joe has watched us retreat from neighborhood groceries. He has watched us sort ourselves into smaller and smaller echo chambers. He has watched us let ourselves and each other down. He’s seen it all, and he’s bet on our better nature. Trader Joe’s goes above and beyond in the hopes that we, the customers, and society, will, too.

Here are just a handful of ways Trader Joe’s has made me a better person:

* I’m more adventurous. By nature, I’m a routine oriented person, content to eat the same breakfast every day. But over the years I’ve ventured to try cookie butter (okay so maybe that was no risky wager), healthy spinach dip, thai chili dusted almonds, and chips made from peas, sweet potatoes, beets, (even godforsaken corn). Joe has convinced me to go out on a limb time and time again, with his ridiculous no-questions-asked return policy.

* I’ve joined the plant lady ranks. My first foray into houseplants was an impulse buy at Trader Joe’s. I couldn’t resist the Easter Lily, nestled in its festively wrapped plastic pot, $6.99 a price low enough to risk. Now I’ve got potted plants everywhere, cleaning the dirty diaper and dog scented air of my home.

* I’ve become a “just because” gift giver. Mini bouquets, small boxes of truffles and seasonal candles make it easy to pick up a pick-me-up for a friend in the midst of a weekly grocery trip.

* I am more kind to the earth. Reusable bags became a fixture in my backseat because TJ’s makes them so vibrant and appealing. (I may also have been enticed by the gift card drawing for bag bringers, though I’ve been entering for 15 years and have yet to win.)

Sure, after years of use, the bottom may be stained with blueberry juice (or likely something more sinister, but no one’s gotten E. Coli, so it’s fine). Still, their bright patterns are irresistible, checkout after checkout.

* I’ve reclaimed the virtues of small talk. Trader Joe’s employees make conversation, but not to upsell you something you don’t want. It’s more of a, “hey human, I, a fellow human, see you, and acknowledge your humanity. And yes, I would love to show you where we moved the Clif bars,” vibe.

More often than not, I see someone I know while shopping. In another store I might feel tempted to turn the other way, especially if the interaction poses a high awkwardness risk. But in TJ’s, I’m infected by a largesse of spirit, remembering names and kissing babies like a politician. It’s refreshing not to be anonymous in a public space, even if it’s uncomfortable.

I may be an idealist, but even I can admit the limitations of an inexplicably Hawaiian branded grocery store to change the wider culture. But for a blissful 30 minutes a week, an errand becomes an adventure as I enter this oasis of creative samples and lighthearted customer service.

If we can stop leaving carts in the parking lot likes monsters, what else can we accomplish? Surely we can solve healthcare. Or at least deliver a Trader Joe’s bag of sustenance to a sick friend’s doorstep.

Follow me on Instagram for weekly TJ’s finds. They won’t help you with your meal plan, but they might make your day.

Athleisure, Barre, and Kale: The Tyranny of the Ideal Woman:

“These days, it is perhaps even more psychologically seamless than ever for an ordinary woman to spend her life walking toward the idealized mirage of her own self-image.”

Better Than Before is Gretchen Rubin’s book dedicated to habit change. Her suggestions are practical, easy to implement, and research-based. She also offers these great one-page resources to download, like “The Better Than Before Habits Manifesto.” #5 particularly caught my attention: “Things often get harder before they get easier.”

A sister grapples with how to help her brother struggling with mental illness:

One day his caseworker said to me: “What you need to understand is that he’s not going to be ‘fixed.’ He’ll have good days and bad days. He’s trying. But don’t ever forget that he is a person. He isn’t just an illness.”

As a new (somewhat skeptical) user of the Calm app, I was delighted by My New Meditation App Makes Me Feel So Much Better Than You:

“Using the app changed the relationship I have with my iPhone X. After examining my deepest intentions, I decided to upgrade.”

A few weeks ago, my friend had the flu. I didn’t have time to cook her a meal, but I picked up these favorites from Trader Joe’s for her. (I also included a couple cups of ramen that TJ’s now sells and she said those were “the ultimate sick food,” so keep that in your back pocket, too.)

A few last links worth a click:

* Joy the Baker teaches us how to be better bakers

* Why does wine get better with age?

* “No card can make this better” card for the occasions when you don’t know what to say

* Song lyric print of Jack Johnson’s “Better Together”

May we celebrate three steps forward, even as we take one back. Progress is praiseworthy, however small. May we sense the unquantifiable—the progress we cannot chart on a graph, but know in our bones.

May we remember that we are more than our output, that we are human by design, not by defect. May we refuse to morph into robotic imitations of ourselves, chasing wholeness through time management apps and productivity hacks.

May we opt out of optimization when we find our humanity, our joy, and our healing hang in the balance.

As always, I’d also love to hear your thoughts on anything this issue calls to mind for you. Simply respond to this email to let me know.

Gratefully, Jacey

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