Rooting :: 085
Ohheyhihello!
The Year of Rooting
For more than 10 years, I start January with a yearly theme.
It's my own silly way of manifesting (predicting?) the kind of year ahead. I say silly because I know I have such little control over the big themes of the year and what will actually happen.
Still, it's interesting to me the way a fortune cookie or horoscope are. It may mean nothing. But sometimes when the synchronicity and serendipity align, it feels magical.
The year we got married my theme was "investments." The first year we lived in our house my theme was "Hygge" or coziness. And this past year was the year of "rooting."
It started as a plant metaphor. I was hoping to find a full time job that felt like the right fit. Embedding my roots down so I could feel more grounded in a new chapter of my career and able to grow. As I kept writing notes about rooting and thinking about all the things that were on my mind this year, the word ROOT layered on other meanings.
Rooting is also about searching. Rooting around: looking. Wasn't I doing that in my jobbing? I also got into genealogy this year. Inspired by my friend Craig who "brought his family photo album to life" I started capturing family stories and inside jokes and putting them to photos. Family history is roots. Having roots is often about making a home. We hosted more meals, parties, and gatherings at our house this year than any previous year.
Another definition is to remove. Rooting out. Turning 40 this year has me thinking about my time and how I'm prioritizing to make room for the important things.
There's roots in Music. Linguistics. And people–who am I cheering on?
2025 was a year of rooting. This month, let's dig into the dirt and find the good stuff...
Personality Tests
One of my favorite ways to relate to other parents with more than one kid is to ask about the personality differences in their kids. As much as we all think that we nurtured our first born into being the way they are, the second one comes out and BOOM: we're introduced to the "nature" side of the equation.
They're just different.
Imagine how your fourth grade teacher would describe you. Ms. Diamond would probably say: Creative. Focused. Quiet. Same for you, right? ...likely not.
We all come into the world with a way of being, relating, and thinking. Everyone one of us can add to seven (h/t to Molly Rodau who intro'd me to the concept this month). Like mine is 6+1 and yours is 3+4 and hers is 5+2. Metaphorically speaking, it means that we can all be successful and reach our goals. We're just going to do it in different ways.
I'm not here to argue nature or nurture. Just that because we're all so individual, it can be really hard to talk about ourselves. It's one of the reasons I love personality tests. Myers-Briggs, The Four Tendancies, The Big 5, Enneagram, Horoscopes, The Values Bridge, Strengthsfinders, DISC, Personal Mythology, and so many more I've done. Not because they're right. Or even scientifically proven.
But because they help me give a vocabulary to the way I think and work. So much of relating to other people is being able to be articulate. And knowing myself is rooted in being able to talk about myself.
Rooted in the Past, Growing Towards the Future
I'm thinking about the future. I read the news and think: where do things go from here? Has the news always been this bad? Has every generation been disillusioned and jaded?
"Happy Days" was shot during Jim Crow era. "Good Times" was about living in poverty in public housing.
...I think the answer is Yes.
Yes it was always this bad, and in hindsight, history simplifies the complexities. Yes it was always this bad, but we were children before. Yes it was always this bad, but we didn't know as much.
In many ways, part of getting older is learning and seeing more than before. And in the age of 24 hour news cycles, rage bait social media posting, and algorithm-driven echo chambers, we're seeing so much more.
Being "woke" boils down to being educated– learning stories and facts. Sometimes stories that may put ourselves, our families, and heroes in less-than-appealing light. I think the world feels so poisonous right now because many of us are learning. We're seeing, sometimes for the first time, how truly evil some people are, how full of hate and greed people are, and how that drives companies, this country, and world. And maybe even more than that, it often feels hopeless because what can we even do?
There is a group of people who are choosing to repress those truths and ignore facts. Historically, the regimes and movements that choose to limit, silence, repress, and hide stories and truth end up eaten away by a natural human desire–nah, instinct– to be curious, learn, and progress.
Wokeness is a name for learning and empathy. To be open minded and hear about other people's stories. And ultimately, it's about the future. Progress. Looking forward.
There are people thinking about the future and there is everyone else. Thinking about building a better world. Better in this context based on my own definition is a world more sustainable to live on, kinder, more affordable, equitable, and more inclusive. There are future builders and there are past dwellers. I'm looking ahead. You?
Muggles Don't Have Magic Inside Them
Every month, I get replies saying how much this resonated or changed someone's thinking. Not a ton, but a few. And every month, people unsubscribe. In fact, more than 25% of the people on my list have left.
No hard feelings, but see ya.
I don't optimize The Email Refrigerator on purpose. I know almost no data about it. I think about what I want to say and what I think people need to hear. And then I write it and send it. Not what's getting biggest open rate and click throughs.
It's more of an art project for me than a business. And as an artist, I try and surround myself and listen most to the other artists in my life. They know what it's like to put themselves out there. To create work in the face of resistance– both internally and in public. To make and share, despite all the things in the way.
I try not to listen to the Muggles. I owe this nomenclature to my friend (no not JK Rowling), Margo Aaron, a writer and artist in her own right. Margo taught me that Muggles don't know how to create magic. They can't see what I'm doing. They don't get it. So I need to stop listening to them. Find other magic people. Just like me. Just like you.
If I listen closely, even the criticism from the other artists roots me on. As an artist, I need more support. I need more encouragement because to turn an idea into a thing is magic. And to put it out in the world and put my name on it and say "this is a thing worth your time" to anyone who might come across it, there's some magic in that.
In looking at 2026 and making more art, I'm coming to a singular conclusion: Don't listen to the muggles. Find the wizards.
Putting Roots Inside
Having a word of the year is like getting a new car. 18 years ago when I bought a Honda Fit, I had never noticed one before. Then suddenly, I'm seeing them all over the place. Orange ones, silver ones, sport models.
Having a word of the year is just like that. I start to notice it more. And it shows up in unexpected places.
Reading Anne Lamott, suddenly I come across "Love is a root system (trees are better at this than I am)" and I start thinking about community and interconnectedness. Re-reading Lindy West's "Shrill" she says, "If my dad supported us with words, head in the clouds, my mom supported us with structure, roots in the ground” and I'm considering how Lauren and I approach parenting.
I was scrolling Instagram and stopped at a video of one of my favorite musicians, Jacob Collier, being asked about multitasking in his projects, "How do you get back to the previous thing [you were working on?]"
And he responds, "I think if you really care about something, then you put roots inside it. So for me, like the piano, for example, is something I really care about. And it brings me a lot of joy and purpose. Even if every time I go to the piano, something slightly different comes out, I'm still grounded in the piano as a container. So it's like finding the containers in your life that feel like safe places."
And it makes me think about creating containers for safety in my life that allow for risk and experimentation in other parts of my life. I'd say daily family dinners to check in with each other feel grounding. Weekly wrapups and organized lists. A new job too– the first full time job I've had in 10 years.
Having a word has allowed me to pay attention and find it in so many unexpected places. To learn about it and learn from it.
Whether you have one for next year or not, thank you for being part of this container every month. For allowing me to put roots inside this thing that I love that allows me to feel safe so I can take creative and social risks.
I'd love to hear your theses, mantras, words, and intentions for the new year if you have one. And as always, if you think someone in your life would love getting a refrigerator like this every month, please share it. Wishing you a happy, healthy new year rooted in love.
Until next year, refridgeyalater.
-Jake
Hey, me again.
If someone forwarded this Email Refrigerator to you and you'd like one every month, sign up here.
Read the last 84 issues here.
If this monthly email feels more like a weed than a flower, click here to uproot yourself and unsubscribe. No hard feelings, really. See ya. A few topics I cut from this month: Lists that aren't for me, Root folders in computer science, root words in learning languages, Root beer, and TV miniseries
The Email Refrigerator is a monthly delivery of essays, poetry, imagery, and thoughts, written and curated by Jake Kahana. Why a refrigerator? Well, it's where we look for snacks, a little freshness, and where we hang the latest, greatest work. And besides, "newsletter" sounds like spam.