Writing Eating Adverbs has been (and continues to be) one of the most emotionally intense creative journeys of my life. Some days I swing from joy to overwhelm before I’ve even finished my coffee. But through it all, I’ve stayed grounded in one truth: this book matters.
This week, I have focused on five special adverbs to keep me moving ahead: Finally, Deeply, Gracefully, Somewhere, and Daily.
TIME
At the beginning of this book writing process, the publisher tasked me with answering a daunting number of questions – all designed to help me frame the direction of the project. In one section of questions, they asked me to talk about the stories in my life that resonated and make me want to write a book.
I have nurtured my brand, “Table For One, Please” for many years and have struggled to figure out how to get traction on it. It was originally very narrow – just about dining alone. I then tried to expand it to go into cooking for one and traveling alone – but it all felt very disconnected and forced. Not cohesive.
During one of our calls, the publisher asked a few questions that finally caused me to have an epiphany. I realized that all of it was connected as part of a lifestyle. There was a singular moment where I stopped and said to myself, “You have something here that defies popular stereotypes. There has to be a way to package and share this information with the people who need to hear it.”
So, finally, I stopped thinking about it and started writing.
What is one thing you have been waiting to begin? What would it look like if you ‘finally’ started?
DEGREE
In May 1989, after graduating from college and working for a year to save funds, I quit my job and moved my things into storage. I spent the summer working at a theater company, and then in September I flew to Europe and spent the next three months backpacking alone.
Without the immediacy of computers or social media, the chronicle of my experiences relied entirely on a camera and my commitment to write something every day so that I would never forget the journey. I photographed constantly, knowing I wouldn’t see a single image until I returned to the U.S. and had them developed.
I also wrote in a journal daily—on trains, buses, and ferries. I wrote while dining in cafés, restaurants, or with picnics in the park. Museums were often perfect spots for quiet contemplation and journaling.
Daily writing became a ritual. A therapeutic tool. A way to process the highs and lows of solo travel. And there were plenty of both.
Reading those journals again recently, I was struck by just how resilient I was. Despite the bad days, I managed to stay focused on the thrill of discovery. Through it all, I grew confident and began to trust myself in ways I had never trusted myself before.
On Tuesday, October 3, 1989 I was in Oban (Scotland) and wrote the following in my journal:
I feel different, somehow. I sense the beginnings of a subtle shift in my perspective, in myself. Not remarkably obvious, but happening nonetheless. I feel emptied and in the process of refilling. I know it sounds odd, but I feel like I’m returning to a level of awareness I’ve lost. How metaphysical! I feel alone, yet not lonely. The world walks beside me and every place is home because home is within. I leave a bit of me each place I go, but return with more, as each place fills me to overflowing. I feel like Thoreau, to paraphrase, “I went to the world to live a while. To experience life. To know.”
I am still astonished at how Deeply I was feeling my life in that moment!
What is something you feel ‘deeply’ connected to within yourself? How might you express that outwardly this week?
MANNER
The prologue to the section on Adverbs of Manner is titled, “The Art of Thriving Solo” and begins with this quote:
“The greatest thing in the world is to know how to belong to oneself.” – Michel de Montaigne
In the book, I talk about how independence can be built through bold declarations or grand adventures, but it can also grow from small choices, the quiet moments where we choose ourselves. All of that builds a foundation for lasting change.
But the truth is that change, especially the kind that redefines our relationship with solitude, autonomy, and self-trust, can invite resistance. Not just from others but from within but also from the quiet weight of the mysterious “they.”
- “They say you shouldn’t do this.”
- “They think solo activities are strange.”
- “They wonder why you’re changing.”
Growth isn’t always smooth. It’s messy, uncertain, and sometimes uncomfortable. In those moments, the greatest gift we can offer ourselves is compassion, the ability to move forward without punishing ourselves for perceived imperfection.
Moving through our lives Gracefully.
Where do you feel you might need to move more ‘gracefully’ through a situation in your life?
PLACE
While writing this book, I found early on that I simply don’t do my best creative work at home. Certainly, a great deal of my writing has happened there (including writing this paragraph) but for inspiration I often need to find somewhere different.
One of my favorite spots for inspiration is the Morton Arboretum in Lisle, IL. It’s a huge tree sanctuary and feels almost sacred to me when I visit.
My favorite spot is along the shores of a small lake. There is a hazel tree by the water with a huge root system, almost like an altar. I love to sit, watch the light flicker on the ripples, and let silence do what language cannot do for me.
I visit there when I feel off-center. Blocked. Lonely. Curious.
It’s my “Somewhere” that can help refocus me.
Where is your ‘somewhere’ that can be a place of creation and beginning in your life?
FREQUENCY
This week, I have been focusing a great deal on returning to a place of center. I keep thinking about the word “equanimity.” The adverb that resonates for me here is “Daily.” Each of the three elements of this section have been something I visited daily all week long.
- Song on Repeat – I have long been a huge fan of Mary Chapin Carpenter, and this week I have revisited (frequently) her song “Almost Home.” In the chorus, she talks about ‘not running’ any longer, about ‘resting in the arms of the great wide open,” and finally allowing yourself to realize that you are on the right path.
- Book I Keep Returning To – When I was dealing with cancer back in 2021, a good friend sent me a copy of The Book of Awakening by Mark Nepo. It has 366 inspirational messages, one for each day of the year (including leap years). My friend had been gifted this book when she was dealing with cancer, and had found it to be healing. I, too, found that – and this past week as stress began to overtake me again I pulled it off the shelf and have made this a part of my daily ritual again.
- Ritual – In earlier newsletters I mention the “4 a.m. Club.” I have continued to wake up then (or as closely as possible) every day. The morning rituals include yoga and now the reading of the daily quote from The Book of Awakening. The newest ‘add on’ to the morning bundle of rituals this past week was a daily commitment to sitting quietly for five minutes and simply scanning my body. I try to avoid focus on my thoughts, simply allowing them to come and go – just focusing on breath and physical sensation. It has been a great healing tool.