You're listening to How to Be a Better Human.
I'm your host, Chris Duffy.
Today's episode is all about how to be a caregiver.
What do you do when you're the one making sure that the people you love get what they need?
How do you support someone if they're the one that's doing the caretaking?
You know, this is a role that almost all of us will have to play at one point or another in our lives.
And yet it's one that so few of us have any sort of training to do.
Today's guest, Courtney Martin, has been writing and thinking about care for our kids, for our parents, for our partners, for our communities, for the world, for our country.
She's been thinking about all those different forms of care for years now.
And she's been doing that as a writer and a journalist, but she is currently living through it in an entirely new and much more personal way.
Here is a clip where Courtney explains what I'm talking about.
I am, from a practical perspective, I'm a classic sort of sandwich generation caregiver, right?
So I have two daughters, nine and 12 years old, and I live with my mom, who's in her late 70s and has some disabilities and some chronic illnesses.
And I also am the primary caregiver for my dad, who is in a memory care facility.
He has advanced dementia.
So I'm meaning I'm sort of the point person on all things care for my dad, like coordinating with doctors, making sure he has everything he needs when he's there visiting him frequently.
So caregiving is just like a massive part of my life.
I cannot tell you how often I have sent someone an email with a link to something that Courtney has written and said.
You have to read this.
I'm so excited to talk to her because I think she's brilliant.
But I also think that she is able to talk about care, with all of its complications and nuances, in a way that just about no one else can.
She really can, brings this whole universe down to a scale where we can acknowledge what's happening and think about it and really wrestle with it.
So I'm very, very excited to talk to Courtney today.
And we are going to get into that conversation right after this quick break.
Hey, it's Adam Grant, and I believe that work shouldn't suck.
On my podcast, Work Life, I dive into the latest insights and science on jobs, leadership and teams.
Spoiler alert there are some surprisingly simple solutions to making your work life better, no matter what you do.
Check out my podcast, Work Life with Adam Grant, wherever you listen.
On today's episode, we are talking about love and service and what it means to be a caregiver, with Courtney Martin.
Hi, this is Courtney Martin.
I'm a writer, a caregiver.
I have a Substack newsletter called Examined Family, and I host a podcast called The Wise Unknown.
You know, I think all of the topics that I want to discuss with you fall under the umbrella of caregiving and the different forms that that takes in our lives.
So I'm curious to hear how you are currently feeling about caregiving in your own life.
Ooh, what a big question.
Caregiving for me is like an existential portal.
It's like the most meaningful interesting challenging, beautiful part of the human condition possible.
So I first experienced that when my kids were born, and now I'm experiencing that as an adult daughter in such a profound way.
So I have all kinds of like spiritual things to say about that, but also because I'm a trained journalist and I love to do solutions journalism, It's forced me to ask lots of interesting systemic questions.
So I'm also now doing a lot of reporting on care and the care system in America and thinking a lot about a lot of these sort of systemic and cultural levels too.
So it's like it's like my whole life is care on all these different levels at this point.
You described it as a portal.
And to me at least, a portal kind of means like it's something that takes you from one place into another.
What is the place that you were before?
And what's the place that you've gotten to?
I'll take my dad, because I think that's one that's especially alive and fascinating, which is, first of all, my dad is like one of the loves of my life.
So we'll put that out there.
So you know, lifelong incredible relationship and so many conversations about the existential meaning of life with my father.
He's a Buddhist.
He was just like incredibly unconditionally loving and You know, totally hyperbolic about me.
If he was on the podcast, he'd be like, this is Courtney Martin, the best young writer in America.
I'm like, first of all, I'm not young anymore, dad.
And also definitely not the best at anything.
But anyway, that was you know he.
The way he saw me deeply shaped how I'm able to walk through the world.
So about a decade ago, he got diagnosed with early onset frontal temporal dementia, which is not the lottery ticket you want to pull.
It is a really shitty disease.
And so watching my dad essentially unbecome himself as my kids are becoming themselves has been sort of a wild cross.
Current
And the portal with my dad now, because he's, you know, very advanced in his dementia and the portal of the last few years has been sort of how can I be with him?
And what does that teach me about being human?
Hmm.
And you know my dad, like I said, was a lifelong practicing Buddhist but struggled mightily with anxiety and other things his whole life.
He is now the most Buddhist he's ever been.
He's the most mindful he's ever been.
He's the least egoic he's ever been.
So you know, there were times when we were living together when he and I would just sit in our courtyard and I would read Pema Chodron to him.
And not know like how much of this is being absorbed in his brain.
I have I have no clue.
I'm going to jump in for one second to just say, if you don't know, Pema Chodron is the Buddhist teacher and nun and author of the book When Things Fall Apart.
Yeah.
And then, like you know, I'd stop reading and be like wow dad, I'm thinking like you have like very little ego left.
And he'd be like, is that a good thing?
Like, yeah, it's a great thing, dad.
So it's like the story of dementia is terrible.
And there were lots of terrible things that happened and continue to happen that we could also be real about and talk about.
But.
Also, the portal of it has been like, who is my dad without anxiety?
Who is my dad without an ego?
Who is my dad if at this point we basically are wordless together except for singing?
Like we sing the Beatles.
I saw him on Thanksgiving.
We're recording near Thanksgiving and we sang Bob Seger's Night Moves, which is just the best song.
I love it so much.
And Hey Jude.
And my dad has no words, but he had words to sing.
So it's like, okay, today that's the form of connection and that's his essence that's still intact.
If one of the people you love most in the world unbecomes themselves but is still themselves, it's a fucking weird portal.
You're like, what does that mean about who I am or who anybody is?
And I think part of it has just made me think we're far less coherent than we think we are.
And also made me just not want to waste time worrying about my coherence and worrying about all these things that I know my dad worried about for so so, so many years.
So, yeah, that's kind of the nature of the portal with my dad.
But I think all caregiving portals are different, depending on both the nature of the care you're giving but also the nature of the human that you're caring for.
Well, something that was really interesting about going back several years into your work and things that have touched me that you've written over time, is that so much of the work was about caregiving, was about finding ways to navigate in a society and a culture that really makes it hard to care for each other, to talk honestly about things like grief or discomfort or suffering.
You know, you quite literally were a co-founder of the Solutions Journalism Network.
The idea that we don't just shine a spotlight on the problem and say wow, that sucks too bad, that it's a problem and there's no way to fix it.
Instead, you also give equal time to people who are working on that problem and what they are doing, what is effective and what is ineffective.
You know, i i always wanted to be a journalist because i realized like oh, you get to read voraciously and learn all the time about stuff you care about, like just go down these, you know tunnels of, like your own passions and interests and questions about the world.
Like what could be a better job?
But I was really attracted to solutions.
I was really attracted to, like the people I saw in the world and in my community who were tackling problems in really compelling ways.
And when I was in my early 20s I'm 45 now I felt like oh, maybe I'm not supposed to be a journalist, because it seems like if you're supposed to be a journalist, you want to expose corruption and write about how shitty human beings can be, all of which I think is really important work.
And I, you know, I'm so glad so many people want to do it.
I was really interested in problems, but only insofar as I was interested in how we might tackle them, not insofar as I wanted to like find the bad guy and, you know, do an expose on them.
I also realized one of the best ways to get the bad guy is to show how good things could be.
Because if we only show how bad that leadership is or whatever, how corrupt, and we don't say like look at this other leader who's doing it this way, or look at this other organization, or look at this state that has figured out this thing, then that's actually holding power accountable, because you show that it is possible.
So thankfully, I met this incredible mentor and friend of mine, David Bornstein, early in my 20s, when I was having that crisis of conscience and being like maybe I'm not supposed to be a journalist because I want to write about solutions.
Who was like no, you're exactly who needs to be a journalist, because we need
People to write about solutions, and that led to us creating this solutions journalism network together, Which has been just like a great thing, and he's just been an incredible leader of that organization, but I also Really
That's the only way I know to like be okay in the world.
It's, you know, like this experience I've had with my dad has been so painful that when I had a moment this last summer to be like okay, How do I like keep moving through this grief, as you mentioned, and through just like the absolute rage I feel at how elders are treated in our culture and in our society.
It was like, oh, I got to like channel some energy into some journalism.
So now I'm doing some stories on various solutions that I see within.
Elder care is potentially really important, important and provocative.
And that just, it's so cathartic for me.
And it's just like, I have a personal experience.
I get outraged and I, you know, I'm in some sort of suffering around it.
And then I start asking like big systemic questions, usually about like economic privilege, racial privilege, gender privilege, and try to like figure out who is working on these things and how can I shine a light on them.
And just to give an example of what this actually looks like, in one of your articles you wrote this fantastic article in 2024 called Fine Print Justice, about Daryl Atkinson and how he was battling fines and fees that were causing all these huge problems for people who were unjustly affected by them in ways that were very It was unequal, who was having to pay these fines and fees and how much it was disrupting their lives.
However...
When you write the article and I'm just going to read literally the paragraph the playbook is basically this
Talk to those most directly impacted by fines and fees, who can pinpoint which ones are giving them the most trouble.
Follow the money, namely what is the collection rate and what does it cost the government to get that money?
Paint a picture of why fines and fees are a lose-lose, so that both government insiders and sympathetic outsiders like public interest lawyers, community organizers, nonprofit leaders working on immigration or incarceration, etc understand.
Finally, in coalition, push hard for reform.
And once you get it at the local level, aim for state reform.
You've just so quickly and efficiently boiled down a way that things could change.
And that, I think, is You know, when you are doing your reporting about other things outside of yourself.
I feel like that is the hallmark of a Courtney Martin story.
Is that it has a paragraph like that, which to me, is so.
I just find so refreshing and empowering as a reader and as a person who cares about the issues and is made to care by the writer.
I feel like you are always able to pull back the personal suffering and the personal tragedy and find the coalition of both broader forces that are involved, but also could make a compassionate version of this for other people who are in similar situations.
I just feel like that is, again, something that's so unique about your work.
Thank you for reflecting that back for me.
That is really cool to hear you word it that way.
I think...
That is probably partly shaped by my mom and her, the way I sort of grew up watching her collectivize things.
I grew up in Colorado Springs Colorado, which in the 80s was a very conservative place, place politically and religiously, and my parents are, you know, old hippies.
They grew up in denver but they my dad got a job at a law firm in colorado springs.
So you know, we were getting like bibles delivered in our newspaper and i had a very formative experience as a teenager where uh, focus on the family tried to like shut our school newspaper down because we reported on what it was like to be queer at our high school and just like very formative things that were like whoa, i And my mom, instead of being like we're going to make the most perfect progressive family possible with the right yard signs and the right things, was like.
Mm-hmm.
So I think I watched her collectivize and always look for like, who is the coalition, as you put it, like what is the broader community of people that I can go to with this thing that ails me?
And so I think probably a lot of that comes from her modeling.
And I'm very proud to have carried it on in a way that she would have never imagined which, of course, is also part of the.
The beauty of care and legacy is, you know, we're parenting these kids who are going to do all kinds of weird shit with our, our ways of moving through the world that we never would have predicted.
OK, we are going to take a quick break, but we will be back with more from Courtney right after this.
Got a business problem?
There's a TED Talk for that.
Stay updated on everything business on TED Business, a podcast hosted by Columbia Business School professor Modupe Akinnola.
Every week, she'll introduce you to leaders with unique insights on work, answering questions like how do four-day work weeks work?
Do will a machine ever take my job?
Get some surprising answers on TED Business wherever you listen to podcasts.
And we are back.
Today, we're talking about caregiving with Courtney Martin.
I had a very acute experience of caregiving when my wife was very incapacitated, sick and dealing with injuries.
And it was kind of like medically mysterious.
But she was in a lot of pain, both physical and mental.
And we had these multi-year period of like Things just being really bad and me being the caretaker.
And that was my first experience of this acute caretaking was like this person.
And it is my responsibility to get them to survive.
Was this before you guys had kids?
Before we had kids.
Yeah.
OK.
And I had this experience where I felt like my, like the top layer of skin had been removed from my body.
And I was just feeling everything so intensely.
And it was like painful, but it was also like intense, and not always in a painful way to the point where I just felt like I could cry at any second.
Feelings were there.
Emotions were so like, it's so good, but it's also so hard and so bad.
And the relief when it was a good day was such an incredible relief, but the bad day was so there too.
So I just associated that feeling with her and with illness and with caretaking for illness.
And now having two kids...
With both of them I had a version of that feeling, of that my shell is gone, that my skin is raw and I am exposed to the world.
And I actually found that it was kind of like shocking to me to think that that same feeling could not be true, pinned on an intensely negative experience, that it could actually be pinned on an intensely positive experience of there's this new baby and it's incredible, and he's here and our lives are different.
And I am responsible for this person.
And I felt like it was so much of the same emotions and yet in a wildly different narrative.
It really expanded how I understood the capacity of myself to experience those kinds of things.
Brene Brown has this idea of foreboding joy and she talks about like staring at your kid in their crib and you're just like I love them so much.
And then you're like, oh, fuck.
I love them so much.
Oh, fuck.
You know, she doesn't say it that way, but that's how I think about it.
It's just like, it's so terrifying to love humans this much.
It's just absolutely insane.
And I was also thinking about the celtic idea of thin time and thin place, just the idea that there are like moments in life and you know this is very obvious during, like birth and and funerals, and you know the sort of end of life and beginning of life, but when we feel how, you know viscerally and probably just quite accurately how little stands between us and death, how little stands between us and things changing in Forever.
And I do love that place.
And that's kind of when I hear you talking about the caretaking during illness, which I do not take lightly because I both my mom and my brother have chronic illnesses and my mom's has been quite mysterious.
So I really get how. incredibly hard it is to caretake for someone with illness.
But I do think there's something just really.
I guess it just feels like congruent and integrity and right to me to be like In that thin time or thin place, because it's like this is really how the world is.
You know we spend so much time just an automatic pilot, like focusing on little ego shit that in the end is not going to matter at all.
You know, I am guilty of this constantly.
And then there'll be these moments you know when I'm sitting with my dad, or you know when I'm curled up with one of my kids.
And I'm just like, oh, my gosh, this is like going so fast.
And, you know, before, you know, my kid just turned 12.
So I'm really feeling this like she's wears the same same size shoe I do, which is crazy.
She does got these gorgeous Doc Martin shoes.
And I was like, I guess I can just borrow those now.
Like, that's wild.
Yeah, came out of my body.
And now I could borrow your shoes.
You know you can't have your skin like Off all the time, as you put it.
That would just be so exhausting.
But I do really feel grateful for those moments.
It's also, you know, I felt with my wife Molly.
I felt this rage and anger at a lot of things, but in particular at the narrative.
That's like there's a silver lining to every cloud and you're going to learn something from this.
Because I was like, no, it's just bad.
It's OK.
It can just be bad.
And it really is just bad.
Yeah.
And when I read your writing I feel a similar but distinct pushback and anger at the narrative around your dad that it is just grief and just loss.
It feels like it's very important in your writing to say this is not caretaking for a person who I love so much, who has dementia.
It is not just a downhill slide that is the entirety of it.
That's not the metaphor that's correct.
Yeah, I do feel so strongly about that.
And I think it's so linked to ableism for me and...
Our notions about what makes a person worthwhile.
My brother is identifies as being autistic and works with nonverbal autistic teenagers to like write their own poetry and like has taught me so much about neurodiversity.
And then, of course, this happens to my dad.
So he's like the perfect partner, like care partner to be in this with.
And I have other friends who are like incredible disability justice advocates that have taught me so much about this in, like the last you know five, 10 years.
But I really feel like if you look at someone with dementia or Alzheimer's, as I used to, like, you know, of course, it's a punch in the gut to even think about someone you love having it. as only like a terrible worst possible fate experience then you are inherently assuming something about like what makes a person worthwhile and also about like his internal experience it's funny we were just talking about freakier friday and i was at the bar with my brother and he was like who would you want a freaky friday with and i was like So many people.
I want a Freaky Friday with so many people.
But first and foremost probably my dad, just because to right now be inside of his own experience would be so profound.
I so wonder what it's like in there.
And this is true of a lot of people with various kinds of disabilities or illness, some of which suck a lot of the time, but some of which they find all sorts of creative, beautiful ways to move through the world that might be way more present than what you and I might be able to do because we're more able-bodied or neurotypical.
So it's like...
It's just been very humbling for me to be exposed to disability justice as kind of like a framework and also now to experience it through my dad.
And it does make me angry that other people assume that it's like shittier to be other people.
And it's like, you don't even know what it's like to be other people.
And also like, it might be shitty to be you in lots of ways that you're just like...
Because you haven't been pushed to be more creative and present and attentive and move more slowly and all the things that some people with disabilities have to do.
You don't even know what you're missing out on.
But you're rushing through life, doing your productivity plan and everything's working out for you, and you're feeling sorry for other people.
I do hate pity.
I think pity really pisses me off.
Okay, so this is an interesting Ben bridge into another thing I wanted to talk about, which is something I know you and I both like to do is we like to help other people very comfortable in the helping other people.
It's very hard when you're in a period of life where you need to accept help.
One of the things that came up in my search for Courtney Martin plus sending this to everyone I know you have to read this was an article you wrote about getting a meal train where friends and family started bringing food over so you wouldn't have to cook.
And there's a paragraph in it that really stuck with me.
You wrote.
The point of being helped is not that you have earned the help in some measurable way, some litmus test of extraordinary suffering.
Hmm.
That just hit me so hard when I read that because I find it so difficult to accept that kind of help even when I need it.
Because it's like, well, I don't need it as much as other people.
And yet, for example, when we had our baby and people brought over food, I just wept in a way that surprised me that someone is bringing over a pot of chili.
And I started weeping.
And I just was like, I'm sorry.
I'm not sad.
I'm so happy.
I'm so grateful that you're doing this.
It just is so nice that you're doing this.
But yeah, I guess I'd just love for you to expand on that feeling of allowing yourself to be cared for in these ways that are just human, are just ordinary.
Yeah.
Well, it's become...
Something I really want to get better at through the Sandwich Generation caregiving moment, which has kind of broken me and forced me to accept help, as that piece talks about.
And in part because I realize, watching my mom who had such a hard time accepting help with my dad.
That if you don't start practicing it now, it's really hard to practice it when you turn 75.
When you're like you know, if you're lucky enough to live that long without being disabled, let's say, and then your body's not working and you have to accept help.
It's a torture because you have no muscles for it.
So...
I'm really resolving to get better at accepting help as a form of like, ensuring that my older age is beautiful and less full of tension around this particular issue.
So that's one thing.
And the other thing is, I've really learned if we don't receive help, then we're basically like stopping helping.
Cycle this like very beautiful virtuous, sacred cycle of helping and being helped.
And that's also the thing I've been watching with my mom as we live with her.
And she, as I said, is like dealing with a lot emotionally, physically.
But my brother and I figured out like we have to honor the ways she is helping us and keep giving her opportunities to help us and mother us and grandmother our children and, you know, make great recommendations for things, because she's an incredible researcher and usually knows all the cool cultural stuff even before we do.
She needs to feel like she's helping the family, even if she is the elder that is now also being helped or everything just gets kind of blocked up.
Spiritually it feels like, and relationally.
So I do think...
It's both imperative for us.
We're both kind of in midlife-y moments for this beautiful old age that I hope we both get to have to practice accepting help now and to keep in mind that it is what makes life, makes everything flow, and it's such a gift to other people to help you.
Like people love bringing you that chili, you know.
That's like they get to participate in the one of the most beautiful little windows of your whole life, which is like the moment that a baby comes home, right.
I mean, the shadow side of all this is like if we want to be the helpers all the time, it means there is some arrogance to that.
I've really like for me, it's only arrogance for myself of just like, why should you never be the one who needs help?
Like why should, you know, and I want to let that go as much as I can.
There's a lot that we're talking about that's like in the practical, like how do you do the nitty gritty of actually getting through caretaking and getting what you need, and all of that?
And so what advice would you give someone who is in the midst of caregiving right now?
I think the thing I've figured out is, more than anything else, is to like to make caregiving sustainable.
I have to move towards my own joy within the caregiving like, not see it as selfish to want to do things with the people I'm caring for, that I love and that light me up.
So with my kids.
That means I make a lot of art with them, because that's a way that we can spend time together that soothes me and makes me happy, inspires me, and they like it.
One of them likes it probably more than the other works for me.
When I was trying to figure out how to spend time with my dad, as his brain was, you know, unbecoming itself as we've been discussing, I learned like reading Pema Chodron out loud helps me and also he seems pretty interested.
Going on short walks helps me.
He seems good like we would sing together, but hopefully like figuring out truly mutual ways of being together and That can give you both joy, because otherwise it can get like incredibly joyless.
And then I also think really understanding seasons.
I think it's so easy to like – sometimes it feels like it's never going to change.
Like, you know, whether it's like you're sleep training a baby and you're just like –
I'm going to die.
It's like, no, you're not going to die.
Someday this baby will learn to sleep.
And I've had moments and I'm actually like very much in this moment with my dad because, as we record this, like he's in hospice, which means he probably has six months or less to live part of me wants to just press a fast forward button just to be like okay, pull off the band-aid, like get, get this over with.
And then part of me is no, like this is the season, this is like happening, and then it's gonna not be happening.
And the more that I can just remind myself none of this is forever, whether it's incredibly good or incredibly bad, the more I think I can handle the emotional part of caregiving.
What about if you are someone who loves a caregiver or is close to someone who is a caregiver?
What can you do to help or to show them grace?
Or conversely, what should you not do?
Hmm.
Don't judge them.
I mean, that's so obvious.
But I think like I was actually on a little like caregiver support group call yesterday with a bunch of my old lady friends and they're all taking care of their husbands.
And they were talking about how, you know, people will like judge how they're handling things.
And it just is like, Jesus, life is so hard.
You know, you may have a million ideas of how someone should be caregiving for someone else, but particularly if you're not doing like the heavy lifting, just give them a tremendous amount of grace around what it feels like and what creative solutions they have to come up with to make it all work.
And and just like you know that they're the expert on their person, you know they're the one that's spending the most time with them.
So you may have all kinds of cute ideas.
I mean, this is a close cousin to pity.
I think is like the You know quick fix towards caregivers like, oh you know people be like.
Have you thought of taking your dad to trying to think of an example?
But I just be like, dude, trust me, I've thought about everything.
Like I'm with this dude.
I live with him.
I like, I think, just anything you can do to assume, getting back to humility, that you have no idea about how hard it is or how creative this person has been in trying to figure it out.
You know, having said that, you could say, would it be helpful if I researched X, Y, or Z thing?
I think that can be a huge help.
I think this is like a very boring answer, but it's real is like taking the administrative load off of caregivers can just be massive.
I had one moment where a mutual friend of ours, Wendy McNaughton, who's one of my besties, was like I'm going to call, like I want to do one of your like really annoying things Calls.
Tell me who to call, because she's like an amazing advocate on the phone.
She's like just like a badass on administrative advocacy, kind of like she knows how to like get to the person who can do the thing.
So I can't remember.
I think I let her call like the Social Security office or something like wild for my parents.
And I don't think it totally worked, but it was like just such a relief that someone was going to be on it for me and with me.
So look for the boring stuff, you know, look for the really practical things.
The lasagna is great.
You know the chili is great, but also like be like.
Is there something super logistical and administrative and annoying that I could do for you?
Because that can make such a massive difference.
I had a version of this with you a little bit not indirectly where I ran into your husband in a work setting and we're kind of making very small talk.
And then I was like, oh, I've been reading.
Courtney's writing about what you're going through with her dad.
And I'm really sorry to hear that.
And I felt so awkward having said it, even though it was the real thing to say.
Do you know what I mean?
I was like, I shouldn't have acknowledged that.
But then...
I should have just said like crazy weather, huh?
It's pretty cold.
How about them Dodgers?
Yeah.
How about the Dodgers?
Wow.
Another win.
And this was.
You know, this was months ago, but it's funny because it stuck with me, because I thought like why did I feel weird bringing up a thing that was like obviously real?
And it's not like I'm surprising him.
It's part of his life too.
Yeah.
Yeah.
It's so funny.
I, I don't get that at all.
Like I'm always the person in the corner like talking about death.
So i, if i saw you and i knew you'd been through something, i might like take one minute to say how about the weather, the dodgers, but then, like my next thing is going to be chris.
I saw that you're going through this thing like that was the kindest thing ever that you brought that up with john um, And I just want to be someone who does that.
And I mean I try to have enough kind of empathy and intuition to see if someone's just like.
I really don't want to talk about it right now and be like totally get that.
My husband could have said to you, I'm so grateful you acknowledge that.
And like, I just can't even talk about it.
And I bet you would have been super graceful about that and been like, totally.
I just wanted you to know I'm I noted it, you know to read from another one of your essays which is related to this
And this is from Kneeling Before a Locked Door.
You wrote.
When you're on your knees, both in the intimate and political contexts, you discover that words won't save you.
This has also been the sermon of my dad's dementia.
What saves you is breath tenderness, the accompaniment that comes from true friendship, your own indefatigable imagination making things.
I got a big pail of soapy water yesterday and cleaned patio furniture for an hour and it felt like praying.
I unfolded parchment paper to reveal some flowers.
I dried back in the spring and started arranging them on a piece of cardboard.
I cooked some soup and then fed my mom and brother a modest dinner.
I feel like that's a really...
For me an idea that brings together all of the things that we've been talking about, that the big picture, problems in our world, the political and international issues and the incredibly intimate and personal ones.
It's not some sort of perfect answer.
It's about these actions and these tiny ways of allowing other people and ourselves to work towards something else.
I love that.
And I was just thinking, you're making me feel like my dad.
And it's like, it's like the spirit of my dad coming back in this, in this conversation.
So that's such a massive, massive gift.
I'm extremely flattered to hear that.
I guess all my work is basically about like being a human is so hard and so universally hard.
Like none of us will escape the ways in which it's hard, even if we do for a very long time.
And it is just so beautiful.
And what a profound gift to be alive with other humans and have that experience of not having skin that you described.
I mean, that's like that's what it's all about to me.
So anyway, I can like help people wrap words around that and also just like really value it, like be like this is life.
It's not like anything I can do to help people feel the ways in which what happens within our homes and our communities is really what life is defined by.
Well, Courtney, thank you so much for being on the show.
This was such a pleasure.
Really.
Oh, thank you.
This is such a treat.
Thank you, Chris.
That is it for today's episode of how to be a better human.
Thank you so much to Courtney Martin.
Her fantastic newsletter is called examinedfamily.com.
Her podcast is The Wise Unknown, and you can find information about all of her books, including Learning in Public, on her website, CourtneyEMartincom.
I am your host, Chris Duffy, and my new nonfiction book is called Humor Me How Laughing More Can Make You Present Creative, Connected and Happy.
And it is out now.
You can find out more about the book and my live show dates and all the other stuff I do at ChrisDuffyComedycom.
How to Be a Better Human is put together by a caregiving and a caretaking group of sweetie pies.
On the TED side, we're doted on by Daniela Balarezo, Ben Ben Chang, Michelle Quint, Chloe Shasha Brooks, Valentina Bohannini, Laini La Tensaka Sungmanivong, Antonia Le and Joseph DeBrine.
This episode was fact-checked by Mateus Salas, who cares most deeply about the truth.
On the PRX side, they're finding solutions to all of life's audio problems.
Morgan Flannery, Nora Gill, Patrick Grant, and Jocelyn Gonzalez, thanks to you for listening.
Please send this episode to anyone and everyone you care about.
We will be back next week with even more How to Be a Better Human.
Until then, thanks for listening and take care.
Got a business problem?
There's a TED Talk for that.
Stay updated on everything business on TED Business, a podcast hosted by Columbia Business School professor Modupe Akinnola.
Every week, she'll introduce you to leaders with unique insights on work, answering questions like how do four-day work weeks work?
Do Will a Machine ever take my job?
Get some surprising answers on TED Business wherever you listen to podcasts.
