HeyJaredDebra’s Substack
A weekly mediation on the body as something borrowed- told through small vignettes of daily life, art, family, travel. I hope you discover the gifts in my reflection.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 11
- Latest publication
- Sep 29, 2026
- Audience
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- Earliest in this view
- Jul 20, 2026
Latest issues
Dear Suleika Jaouad, (opens the original)
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I wrote a letter today. Not to send in the mail, but to put out into the world. It is about surviving the unnamable at twenty-two, the strange kinship of parallel lives, and what it means to finally put down the armor and let yourself live. Thinking of Suleika Jaouad today, and anyone out there finding their way . Dear Suleika Jaouad,I thought I was going to be your 2.0, or even your 3.0.I read today that you are facing a third bone marrow transplant. I think of you living among the animals, wit
Repost of My Inconclusive Identity (opens the original)
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Dear Readers,Yesterday, someone returned a memory to me. My father’s former secretary wrote out of the blue to tell me how proud my father had been of me when I had made sushi aboard a yacht. The tale of catching the tuna, fifty miles from shore became vivid and waves of memories washed over me. There are things our parents leave unsaid, and many things that unfold or discover after they are long gone. Maybe though, they form constellations in other peoples’ minds? This time I teared up when I r
I Don’t Have the Headspace for Lice (opens the original)
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Easing into the beauty of a Tuesday afternoon, I was excited not to schlep around the city, except for a stroll to the library to pick up the Judy Blume books I put on hold. Have you read the Judy Blume biography? If you were a fan as a kid, it is well worth its weight in words.Behold: ten years and eight months into parenthood, by the grace of God, we have not experienced lice. “Are You There God. It’s me..”I check my youngest’s blue folder, and there is an envelope declaring that a nit has bee
Brackish Water (opens the original)
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A cross between love and hate, joy and complacency, admiration and jealousy has been floating in my head this past week.The lyrics, “Jolene, Jolene, I’m begging you please don’t take my man,” have also been stuck in my head, maybe because of all the tributes to Dolly Parton. Generous. Glorious. Giving. I am taken with how she jotted lyrics on little pieces of paper and napkins. I believe there’s truth to the idea that she was a saint camouflaged as an entertainer.On paper, I should also love Glo
Iris Van Herpen, Ice Cream and the Vastness of Things (opens the original)
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