After listening to a meditation guided by Shinzen Young in my meditation app, I wanted to know more about him. I was excited to see he’d written a book called The Science of Enlightenment: How Meditation Works. Books about the neuroscience of meditation are my jam.

Turns out, this was not a book about the neuroscience of meditation.

Meditation has made me kinder, more grateful, more resilient. I’m a better person for it. I want to take my practice deeper, and so I’ve been meditating more, with more intentionality, and I’m trying to read more about it. I want to understand better the mechanisms behind meditation. How does it, you know, work exactly?

Young’s book does not answer that question. Instead, he uses science language and metaphors to describe the practice of meditation. There’s some cool stuff in here, but it’s not what I was looking for. And he spends most of his time talking about concepts that are beyond me. Even after six years of a daily mindfulness meditation practice, I still very much feel like a beginner.

His discussion on impermanence, for instance, went almost entirely over my head. I still don’t understand what impermanence is or why it’s important to happiness and enlightenment. Though for what it’s worth, I’m incorporating his advice on noticing when things end, not just when they begin. The sound of a passing car might draw my attention, but I’m trying now to notice when that sound fades. But I can’t pretend I understand why this is valuable, despite having read the book.

Confession: I tend not to like books about meditation. I find the concepts too abstract, the writing too inaccessible. I feel the same frustration with books about philosophy and religion. Though I can point to any number of delightful exceptions, these genres as a whole are not my favorites.

In now the sixteenth month of my unusually isolated lifestyle, following a general history of being not outgoing whatsoever, I find myself reading more about social connections, either why we need them or how to forge them. This led me to Lydia Denworth's 2020 book Friendship: The Evolution, Biology, and Extraordinary Power of Life’s Fundamental Bond, audiobook narrated by Tiffany Morgan.

Though I've read a lot of popular nonfiction about human relationships, most of those books have been more on the social science side of things. This introduced me to research I was unfamiliar with.

One finding: friends have brains that process the world the same way. It turns out that we do not all experience music in the same way, for instance. Friends are more likely to have similar brains that lead them to enjoy the same types of music. Or put another way, shared interests are more than just superficial commonalities. They speak to similar brain structures.

I find that many of these books are written by extroverts who just...don't quite get it. I like extroverts. Some of my best friends are extroverts! But I am not sure I trust the social advice of people who understand the words "dinner party" beyond the abstract.

My other frustration was that discussion of social media was shoved into one chapter, as though it were still a niche consideration in friendships. And within that chapter, the advice was that social media should supplement friendships, but that you should spend more time with people in real life. Excuse me, I am right here! Excuse me!

Of course I would prefer local friends. Spending time in the same room is valuable, even if you're just hanging out instead of talking. Also there are certain activities that cannot be managed satisfactorily without proximity.

But the author seems unaware that many friendships start online. My closest friends are people I have not met. Not met yet, rather.

I want to read one of these books written by someone who is Very Online.

These mild concerns notwithstanding, I enjoyed the book. I broadly recommend it, because social connections are so important for a healthy and happy life, for all of us, even the hermit-in-the-snowy-woods types like me.

This week I read Eat & Flourish by food writer Mary Beth Albright, with audiobook narration by Caroline Shaffer.

Unlike books that emphasize weight and other aspects of physical health, this book examines the relationship between food and mental wellness. At various times a chef, a food attorney, and a journalist, Albright finds a wealth of medical information and makes it accessible for general readers. Some tidbits that stayed with me:

Taste is perceived beyond the taste buds. When Cadbury changed the shape of its chocolates from squares to circles, consumers were in an uproar about the sweeter formulation...even though the recipes were identical. This is why you should add a spring of fresh herbs to your plate. You will derive more pleasure from your meal, just from seeing a sprig of parsley or rosemary.

In a tightly controlled experiment, people in two groups ate food with identical caloric and nutritional compositions, but one group ate clean, unprocessed foods while the other ate ultra-processed foods. The people eating ultra-processed foods gained weight.

In another experiment, mice were fed identical diets, but some mice received injections of gut microbes from a fat twin, while other mice received injections of gut microbes from the slender twin. The mice with the microbes from the fat twin gained weight.

I mention those experiments not to hyper-focus on weight but to observe that there's so much to food and wellness beyond "eat less, move more." How food is prepared and processed, the microbes in your gut, how often you share meals: so many different factors contribute to your overall well-being.

Albright provides lists of foods that can help with specific emotional goals, such as eating to feel less angry or less anxious. There are also some recipes and a few high-level ideas to implement at the grocery story, such as a plan to focus on anti-inflammatory foods for a week. I consider myself well informed on food and nutrition, but I learned a lot.