My mom called me on Tuesday and told me I should start writing funny things again. Her innocuous request toes the line between undue pressure and wholesome motivation. Regardless, I quickly started hunting for ‘funny things’ like they were Easter eggs.

It’s a good idea though. When weighing the pros and cons of writing more funny things, there is no profound downside.

That said, funny is a subjective term. And, I never want to be someone who tries too hard to be funny. Fortunately, my just-before-sleep brain came up with an idea: 3 Light Things.

To be honest, it came up with ‘5 Light Things,’ but my fully awake brain thinks three is sufficient.

***

Two days ago, in an effort to reduce my screen time, I created a phone station in my bedroom. This phone station is out of arm’s reach when I’m in bed–on the other side of the room entirely.

Moving my phone away from my bed was an intentional decision, but when the concept of ‘5 Light Things’ popped into my head, after I was already tickety-tucked into bed, I had to get my butt up, walk across the room, open my phone, and create a note saying, ‘5 light things.’

Now, I know what you’re thinking, “That’s it?”

Yes, that’s it.

Is it possible that I could have remembered those three words upon waking up? Possibly, but I wasn’t willing to risk it.

It’s more likely that a single night of sleep could have erased the entire memory–like shaking an etch-a-sketch; the message is still there, but it’s so faint you can’t read it. You’re only left with the frustration of knowing that you had an idea, but the actual idea has disappeared back into its vat of aluminum powder.

Apparently, life delivers these fears to you when you turn twenty-nine. So, I summoned the energy to get up, walk across the room, and make a three-word note.

***

3 Light Things is not an attempt to ignore the heavy stuff in life; we’re well acquainted. I’m in therapy and frequently cry about heavy things. That’s a joke that you can laugh at, but it’s real and not something to sympathize with; I love therapy.

3 Light Things is my attempt to cultivate an awareness of the light things in life. To articulate lightness.

Light has several definitions:

• a source of illumination
• a person’s opinions, standards, and abilities
• an understanding of a problem or mystery; enlightenment
• an area of something that is brighter or paler than its surroundings
• a person notable or eminent in a particular sphere of activity or place

And lighthearted means:

• amusing and entertaining
• (of a person or their behavior) cheerful and carefree

3 Light Things is going to be an ongoing series of essays created to illuminate each of these definitions of light and lightness.

***

3 Light Things, #1: Jalapeños, Eat Pray Love, and Teacup

(1) Jalapeños

I made Mexican Lasagna last night.

The recipe asks for chopped green chilies. I chose to add jalapeños too, pulling several from a jar labeled “HOT” and chopping them into reasonable bits rather than hazardous minefields.

I continued to prepare the lasagna, a recipe I’ve never made before, and then–I can only presume after the fact–I felt something in my eye. So I rubbed my eye.

Now, I’m sure it’s clear to you as a reader that I’ve made an irreversible mistake by plunging my jalapeño-laced finger into my eye, but this wasn’t immediately clear to me. I continued rubbing my eye for several precious seconds before I realized that I was in fact the problem.

With my remaining eye, I fled to the bathroom, found my just-in-case bottle of Opti-Free (*ad) contact solution, and proceeded to effectively spread diluted jalapeño juice throughout my eye, rather than leave a concentrated amount of jalapeño juice in the corner of my eye.

***

(2) Eat Pray Love

I own four copies of Eat Pray Love–the book, not the movie. I can’t talk about the movie here because I only have harsh (read: not light) opinions about it, but I love the book.

I love it so much, I just began re-reading it again which is a clear indicator that I’m approaching a new life phase.

One copy is on my bookshelf. It’s waiting for someone to say, “I’ve always wanted to read Eat Pray Love,” to which I can reply, “Here, take this.”

A second copy is on my bookshelf for safe keeping; it’s a signed copy. I was in Boston for a conference when I realized that I might meet Liz Gilbert later in the day. I went to a used bookstore, Brattle Book Shop, where I found a single copy on a cart in the alley. I met Liz a few hours later and she signed it.

The third copy, destined for daytime reading, sits on our bright yellow ottoman.

The fourth copy, preordained for nighttime reading, lies next to my bed. There’s an orange sticker on the back of the fourth copy that says “3/17 $1.00.” That’s my birth date.

***

(3) Teacup

My sister, Sarah, lives in the upstairs unit of our duplex with her black cat, Te Kā, pronounced tuh-kah. The name Te Kā comes from the movie Moana. Our friend Katie started calling Te Kā “Teacup,” so I started calling Te Kā “Teacup.”

If you’re familiar with cats, some cats can free feed. This means the cat always has access to a bowl of dry food, and they also have self-control; Teacup does not have either. If Teacup has access to a full bowl of dry food, she will eat in excess, then vomit.

To help regulate Teacup’s consumption of dry food, especially while my sister is traveling, my mom gifted Sarah an automatic cat feeder. The feeder makes it possible to micro-dose Teacup throughout the day. It’s really a gift to all three of us: my sister, Te Kā, and me.

The automatic feeder is programmed to distribute a controlled quantity of food at specific times throughout the day. In January, we programmed the feeder and had the option to add an audio recording. We later learned that this single audio-recording plays three times, in rapid succession, every time the cat gets fed.

As an experiment, my sister pushed record and I loudly yelled, “TEACUP” in what I will shrinkingly describe as a baby voice. Since January, Sarah hasn’t changed the recording.

Fifteen times a day, I hear “TEACUPPPP.”

We are Pavlov’s dogging Teacup to think that my baby voice means food.

***

I hope you enjoyed these 3 Light Things: Jalapeños, Eat Pray Love, and Teacup.

Cheers.