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Jessy Books Store, New York, NY (2026)

04/23/2026

I used to watch a spider in the corner of my bathroom and feel a visceral, internal "clench." My heart would hit my ribs, and my breath would go shallow—the "feral" response of a nervous system convinced that a creature the size of a coin was a mortal threat. We are taught to look at the world through the lens of the "ick," to divide living things into those that deserve our space and those that deserve our boot. We build walls of "regulation green" and "polished silence" to keep the wild at bay, never realizing that the fear we feel for the bug is often just a mirror for the fear we feel for the unknown parts of ourselves.

In How to Hold a Cockroach, Matthew Maxwell doesn't give us a manual on entomology. He gives us a parable about the architecture of judgment. Through the story of a man and an insect, he explores the "mathematics of exclusion"—the way we use our "No" to push away anything that looks different, acts different, or reminds us of our own vulnerabilities. It is a quiet, profound meditation on what happens when we stop performing "superiority" and start practicing "presence."

1. The Anatomy of the "Ick"
Maxwell suggests that our disgust is rarely about the object itself; it’s about the stories we’ve been told. We see a cockroach and think "filth," "invasion," or "failure." We do the same with people, and even with our own emotions. You realize that your judgment is a "coat" you wear to protect yourself from the discomfort of connection. When you label something as "gross," you give yourself permission to stop seeing it as alive. You minimize its existence so you don't have to deal with the "violence" of its reality.

2. The Power of the Softened Gaze
The central challenge of the book is the act of holding the very thing you want to crush. This requires a radical shift in your nervous system. You have to move from the "war" of defense into the "quiet" of curiosity. To hold a cockroach without killing it or dropping it, you must be still. You must be patient. You must listen to the "rhythm of regulation" in your own body. It’s a physical manifestation of empathy—realizing that the "other" is just as fragile, and just as determined to take its next breath, as you are.

3. The Violence of the "Us vs. Them" Partition
We organize our lives into neat drawers: the good, the bad, the clean, the dirty. Maxwell argues that this division is the root of our suffering. When we exclude the "cockroach" from our circle of concern, we end up excluding the "Wild" parts of ourselves too. We become "caretakers" of a very small, very sterile world. By choosing to hold the thing we fear, we break the "samskaras" of our own prejudices. We realize that the "blood on the page" of the world includes all of us, and that beauty isn't the absence of the "ick"—it’s the inclusion of it.

4. Curiosity as the Antidote to Fear
Fear and curiosity cannot inhabit the same space at the same time. If you are busy wondering how a creature’s legs move, or how its shell reflects the light, you forget to be afraid of it. This is the "ancient knowing" that we often lose as we grow up and learn to be "polite" and "correct." Maxwell calls us back to the "instinctive self" that isn't afraid to get its hands dirty. He shows us that the most "troublesome" parts of life are often the ones that have the most to teach us, if we can stay in the room long enough to hear them speak.

5. The Freedom of the Open Hand
The ultimate lesson is that a closed fist can't hold anything—it can only crush or punch. To truly live, you have to keep your hands open. This means being willing to be "vulnerable" to the crawl of life. Whether it’s a literal insect or a "thorn" of emotional pain, the goal is the same: to sit with it until the "deafening quiet" of your fear turns into the steady pulse of acceptance. You learn that your "No" was a cage, but your "Yes" is a doorway to a world that is much bigger, and much more beautiful, than you ever imagined.

Maxwell’s parable is a hand on the shoulder for anyone who has been living in a "driveway" of their own making, terrified of the shadows. He isn't asking us to love the "pest"; he's asking us to stop being the "predator."

If you are feeling "untethered" by the chaos of the world, or if the "portraits" you see of others are colored by judgment, this book suggests a different path. It tells you that you don't have to fix the world, and you don't have to be perfect. You just have to be willing to open your hand. You just have to be brave enough to look at the thing you’ve been running from and realize that it’s just another living soul, waiting for the light to change, just like you.

Book: https://amzn.to/4tKHHjC

Enjoy the audiobook with a membership trial using the same link.

04/23/2026

I remember walking past a house in my neighborhood once and seeing a group of women through a lit window. They were leaning over a table, their faces animated by the kind of intense, leaning-in conversation that usually only happens when the rest of the world has gone to sleep. They weren't just passing time; they were building something. I didn't know them, but I recognized the energy: it was the sound of women finally giving themselves permission to want more than the roles they had been assigned.

In The Book Club for Troublesome Women, Marie Bostwick takes us back to 1963, into the pristine, "regulation green" lawns of a Northern Virginia suburb. It was an era when a woman’s success was measured by the whiteness of her laundry and the silence of her own ambitions. But when four very different women come together to read a brand-new book called The Feminine Mystique, the polished, obedient surface of their lives begins to crack. They discover that the "problem that has no name" wasn't a personal failure—it was a systemic cage.

Five Insights into the Revolution of the Ordinary

1. Naming the Ghost in the Room
The most radical thing a woman can do is put a name to her restlessness. For Margaret, Viv, and the others, the "low-grade misery" of their lives was always treated as a character flaw—as ingratitude or selfishness. By reading Friedan’s words together, they realized their longing was actually a legitimate response to being minimized. You realize, through their journey, that language is the first tool of liberation. Once you name the "deafening quiet" for what it is—suppression—you can no longer be expected to live peacefully inside it.

2. The Fury of the Small Print
Bostwick excels at showing the "mathematics of inequality" that defined the 1960s. The details sting: Margaret needing her husband’s signature to deposit her own small paycheck, or Viv being denied control over her own reproductive health. These weren't just plot points; they were the historical bars of the cage. It reminds the reader that the freedoms we take for granted today were not "given"—they were demanded, stubbornly, by women who were told to be grateful for the scraps they had.

3. The Book as a Doorway, Not an Escape
Most people view book clubs as a way to hide from reality, but for the "Bettys," it was a way to enter it. The act of reading together created a "safe house" where they could stop performing the version of the "happy housewife" and start being the "Wild Woman" underneath. They didn't just discuss literature; they discussed the "blood on the page" of their own lives. It shows that true connection happens when we stop talking about what we do and start talking about what we long for.

4. The Courage to be "Troublesome"
In 1963, a woman who wanted a career, a bank account, or an opinion was labeled "troublesome." It was a word used to shame women back into their places. But Bostwick flips the script. She suggests that being troublesome is a prerequisite for change. To be "troublesome" is to refuse to be a "guest in a museum of ordinary life" and instead demand a life of your own design. It’s the decision to take up the space you need, even if it makes the neighbors uncomfortable.

5. The Legacy of the Unseen Struggle
The novel serves as a bridge between generations. It asks the reader to look at their mother or grandmother and see the "portraits" of the women they might have been if the world hadn't bent them into shapes they didn't recognize. It’s a call to honor the women who stayed in their own "driveways" and cried so that we wouldn't have to. You realize that your own freedom is a gift paid for by the "troublesome" women who came before you.

The Book Club for Troublesome Women is a love letter to the power of female friendship and the quiet heroism of refusing to stay small. It teaches us that while the world might try to organize our lives into neat, silent drawers, we always have the right to open them and look at what’s inside.

By the end, you understand that the "quiet responsibility" of your life isn't to be perfect, but to be real. It’s a reminder that the best stories aren't the ones that follow the rules, but the ones that dare to break them in the pursuit of something better. The rest? The rest is just noise. Because once a woman realizes she has a voice, she rarely ever chooses to be quiet again.

Book: https://amzn.to/4epLbDC

Enjoy the audiobook with a membership trial using the same link.

04/22/2026

Francine Shapiro, standing in a park in 1987, noticing something strange: as her eyes dart back and forth watching the birds, the disturbing thoughts she’d been carrying start to lose their jagged edges. They stop feeling like a present-day violence and start feeling like a distant memory. This accidental discovery was the shattering of the old model of trauma therapy. It led to EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing), a realization that the brain has an ancient knowing—an innate system for processing emotional information that can get stuck when a shock is too great for the architecture to handle.

Getting Past Your Past is not a book about long-term analysis. It is a book about the physics of memory. It is a book about how the absolute zero of a traumatic moment can "freeze" a memory in time, making a thirty-year-old hurt feel like an 8am war happening right now. It is a guide to untying the knots of the past so the nervous system can finally take its next breath.

Shapiro argues that we are all carrying an invisible trunk of "unprocessed memories." These aren't just big catastrophes; they are the small thorns—a teacher's criticism, a parent's coldness—that remain stored in the brain's "shredded portraits." When something in the present triggers these memories, we aren't reacting to today; we are reacting to the absolute zero of the past. The book provides a blueprint for how to recognize these triggers and renovate the internal architecture of our minds.

The book is structured to empower the reader with self-help techniques derived from EMDR. It moves away from the deafening quiet of being a victim and toward being the architect of one's own healing. Shapiro teaches that by stimulating both sides of the brain, we can restart the rhythm of regulation, allowing the brain to move the "stuck" memory from the emotional centers to the logical ones, where it can finally rest.

5 Lessons That Stay With You:
1. The Past Is Present Until It Is Processed.
If you find yourself overreacting to a minor situation, you are likely "reliving" a past memory that was never filed away correctly. Shapiro teaches that these memories are stored in "state-dependent" form—meaning the smells, sounds, and physical sensations of the trauma are preserved exactly as they were. Healing is the process of moving that data into a second life where it is a story you tell, not a reality you feel.

2. Your Brain Has a Natural "Healing System."
Just as your skin knows how to heal a cut, your brain knows how to process emotional wounds. This is the Adaptive Information Processing (AIP) model. Trauma is simply a "clog" in this system. The rhythm of regulation—often achieved through bilateral stimulation—is what clears the blockage and lets the natural architecture of the mind finish the job.

3. You Are Not "Weak"; You Are "Triggered."
We often minimize our struggles as personality flaws. Shapiro proves that these are actually "maladaptively stored" memories. When the 8am war of anxiety hits, it’s not because you are untethered from reality; it’s because a current event has touched a hidden thorn in your invisible trunk. Recognizing the trigger is the first step toward building a safe house of self-compassion.

4. Small "t" Traumas Can Be Just as Damaging as Big "T" Traumas.
The brain doesn't always distinguish between a life-threatening violence and a deeply humiliating childhood moment. Both can cause a shattering of self-esteem and create a web of connection to negative beliefs. Shapiro’s work validates the "troublesome" small moments that have shaped our internal museum, offering a path to renovate those memories regardless of their scale.

5. You Can Change Your "Internal Script."
The mathematics of your self-belief is often based on the conclusions you drew during a traumatic event (e.g., "I am powerless" or "It was my fault"). Through the techniques in this book, you can identify these shredded portraits and replace them with a sacred flame of truth: "I am in control now" or "I did the best I could." You are the architect of your own narrative.

Getting Past Your Past is not a book you read for temporary relief; it is a clinical map for a permanent renovation. Francine Shapiro’s voice is a deep, cathartic exhale for anyone who feels stuck in a loop of recurring emotional pain.

The book is an essential anchor for those who feel untethered by their own reactions and want to understand the "why" behind their "what." It serves as a vivid reminder that the architecture of your brain is resilient and capable of radical change. By the final page, the reader understands that the absolute zero of the past doesn't have to define the next breath of the future.

I finished this book and looked at my own triggers with curiosity instead of shame. I realized that my most troublesome habits were just my brain’s feral way of trying to keep me safe. I decided to start the work of unpacking my invisible trunk, trusting that once the old memories are filed away, I can finally walk forward into a life that is truly my own.

Book: https://amzn.to/4vOjivy

Enjoy the audiobook with a membership trial using the same link.

04/22/2026

I didn’t rush through Why We Remember. It kind of slowed me down on its own.

I’d pick it up thinking I’d read a chapter or two, and then I’d find myself staring at a mundane object—a coffee mug, a stray key, or the way the light hits the floor—realizing that my brain is a master architect, constantly deciding what to keep and what to let go. That’s the effect Dr. Charan Ranganath has. He doesn’t just explain how memory works; he shifts your understanding of who you are. He makes you realize that memory isn't a video recorder of the past; it is a tool designed to help you navigate the future.

What struck me most is how liberating the book is. It’s not a lecture on how to "fix" your forgetfulness or win the 8am war against aging. It just keeps pointing, softly, to a radical truth: that forgetting is just as vital as remembering. Ranganath suggests that the "absolute zero" of a blank space in your mind isn't always a failure; often, it’s your brain’s way of clearing out the "shredded portraits" of the irrelevant to make room for what actually matters.

Ranganath blends cutting-edge neuroscience with a very human, almost clinical empathy. He talks about the "prefrontal cortex" and "episodic memory" and somehow all of it circles back to one thing: our memories are the "web of connection" that allows us to make sense of a chaotic world.

There’s a quiet ache in the book, too. It’s the realization of how much of our lives we spend on autopilot, untethered from the present because we are either ruminating on a "troublesome" past or failing to provide the "attention" that acts as the primary caretaker of a lasting memory.

What stayed with me:
1. Memory is a creative act, not a retrieval task
This one hit. We tend to think of memories as static files in a safe house. But Ranganath proves that every time we remember something, we are essentially rebuilding the architecture of that moment. Our current feelings and beliefs color the past, meaning the "ancient knowing" we have of our own lives is constantly being updated.

2. Forgetting is a functional necessity
The book made me realize how used we are to shaming ourselves for what we can't recall. We’ve normalized the fear of "the void." But a brain that remembered everything would be a "wilderness" of noise. Forgetting is the rhythm of regulation that allows us to focus on the next breath of what is actually happening.

3. Attention is the currency of memory
I liked how practical his advice on "distinctiveness" was. If you want to remember something, you have to make it stand out from the "deafening quiet" of the routine. The brain ignores the "polished and obedient" habits and latches onto the strange, the emotional, and the unique.

4. Our "shredded portraits" of the past shape our identity
There’s a moment where you feel the weight of your own history. He leans into that. He suggests that the way we choose to frame our memories is the "mathematics" of our self-worth. If we only remember our failures, we build a safe house of shame. If we can reframe those memories, we allow for a "second life" of the self.

5. The environment is an external hard drive
This one stayed with me the longest. Ranganath shows how much our memories are "tethered" to our surroundings. This is why walking into a room and forgetting why you are there is so common—you left the "contextual triggers" behind in the other room. We are in a constant web of connection with our physical space.

6. You have to find your own way to "stay present"
There’s no one-size-fits-all "brain game" here. Just an invitation to start noticing your life again. It’s a reminder that the most "sacred flame" of memory is stoked by curiosity and presence, not just by repetition.

This isn’t a loud, technical manual. It doesn’t try to impress you with high-level jargon without giving it a heartbeat. But somewhere along the way, it makes you pause, and that pause feels like a "deep, cathartic exhale." If you’ve been feeling a bit worried about your mind, or just too caught up in the "thorns" of a past you can't let go of, this book meets you there. Not with abstract science exactly, but with a way to finally understand the "why" behind your own story. And honestly, that might be even better.

Book: https://amzn.to/4tt2cBL

Enjoy the audiobook with a membership trial using the same link.

04/22/2026

I didn’t rush through The All-or-Nothing Marriage. It kind of slowed me down on its own.

I’d pick it up thinking I’d read a chapter or two, and then I’d find myself staring out the window, re-evaluating the "architecture" of modern love. That’s the effect Eli Finkel has. He doesn’t just offer relationship tips; he provides a historical and psychological map of how our expectations for marriage have shifted from a "safe house" for physical survival to a "sacred flame" for personal self-actualization.

What struck me most is the "mathematics" of his argument. Finkel, a social psychology professor, explains that while the average marriage is struggling more than in the past, the best marriages today are better than any in human history. They are the "all" in the all-or-nothing equation—relationships that provide a deep web of connection and act as a primary caretaker for each partner’s highest self.

Finkel blends rigorous data with a very human, almost clinical observation of the "8am wars" we have over chores and quality time. Somehow all of it circles back to one thing: we are asking more of our partners than ever before, but we are often giving the relationship less "next breath" time and energy to sustain those heights.

There’s a quiet ache in the book, too. It’s the realization of how many of us feel untethered or minimized because we are trying to reach the "Mount Maslow" of marriage without having the proper gear or the rhythm of regulation to get there.

What stayed with me:
1. The "Mount Maslow" of Marriage
This one hit. Historically, marriage was about "absolute zero" survival—food, shelter, and protection. Then it moved to belonging and love. Now, we want our spouse to be our best friend, lover, and life coach. We are climbing a higher mountain, and the air is thinner up there. If you want the "sacred flame" of self-actualization, you have to be willing to invest the oxygen.

2. We’ve normalized the "All," but neglected the "Work"
The book made me realize how used we are to the "shredded portraits" of Hollywood romance. We expect the peak experience without the climb. Finkel shows that the best marriages are built by "architects" who intentionally create the time and psychological space for their partner to grow.

3. "Love Hacks" are small but powerful renovations
I liked how practical his "love hacks" were. When you don't have the energy for a deep-dive renovation of the relationship, small shifts in perspective—like "reappraising" a conflict from the point of view of a neutral third party—can act as a rhythm of regulation to prevent a total shattering.

4. You have to "re-calibrate" your expectations
There’s a moment where you feel the discomfort of your own disappointments. He leans into that. If you can't put in the massive effort required for a "top-of-the-mountain" marriage right now, it’s okay to lower your expectations temporarily. It’s better to have a functional, "polished" safe house than to collapse under the weight of an unattainable ideal.

5. The "Sufficiently Rich" principle
This one stayed with me the longest. Finkel shows that a relationship doesn't have to be everything to be a success. It just needs to be "sufficiently rich" in the areas that matter most to you both. It’s the ancient knowing that you don't need a mansion to feel at home; you just need a structure that holds you well.

6. You are the architect of your own "us"
There’s no one-size-fits-all checklist here. Just an invitation to start noticing the "mathematics" of your own bond. It’s a reminder that a second life for your marriage is possible, but it requires a conscious decision to stop being a guest in the relationship and start being a partner in the build.

This isn’t a loud, opinionated book. It doesn’t try to impress you with "pro-marriage" or "anti-marriage" rhetoric. But somewhere along the way, it makes you pause, and that pause feels like a "deep, cathartic exhale." If you’ve been feeling a bit cynical about the "troublesome" reality of long-term commitment, this book meets you there. Not with abstract answers exactly, but with a way to finally see the path to the summit. And honestly, that might be even better.

Book: https://amzn.to/4mGzaMe

Enjoy the audiobook with a membership trial using the same link.

04/22/2026

I didn’t rush through The Untethered Soul. It kind of slowed me down on its own.

I’d pick it up thinking I’d read a chapter or two, and then I’d find myself sitting very still, noticing the "roommate" in my head—that constant, chatty voice that narrates everything I do. That’s the effect Michael Singer has. He doesn’t just give you a philosophy; he shifts your seat of consciousness. He makes you realize you aren't the voice; you are the one who hears the voice.

What struck me most is how simple, yet absolute, the book is. It’s not trying to teach you how to "fix" your thoughts or "win" the 8am war in your mind. It just keeps pointing, softly, to the exit. It suggests that our "safe house" of identity—the things we like, the things we fear, the "shredded portraits" of our past—is actually what keeps us untethered from true freedom.

Singer blends deep spiritual ancient knowing with a very modern, almost clinical observation of the mind. He talks about "Samskaras"—those old, jagged thorns of energy that get stuck in our heart—and somehow all of it circles back to one thing: we’ve spent our lives trying to protect our wounds instead of just letting them go.

There’s a quiet ache in the book, too. It’s the realization of how much energy we waste building walls to keep out the "absolute zero" of discomfort, only to realize those walls are what's keeping the "sacred flame" of our spirit dim.

What stayed with me:
1. You are the observer, not the object
This one hit. We tend to think we are our feelings or our thoughts. But Singer keeps bringing it back to the "next breath"—the realization that you are the witness. When you step back into that seat of the observer, the "troublesome" thoughts lose their power to pull you under.

2. The heart is an energy center that can stay open
The book made me realize how used we are to "closing" our hearts whenever we feel a threat or a pang of jealousy. We’ve normalized living in a state of contraction. Singer argues that the secret to a second life is learning to stay open, even when it hurts, to let the energy move through instead of getting stuck.

3. Your "inner roommate" is kind of a lunatic
I liked how he used humor to describe the mind. If you had a physical roommate who talked the way your mind talks—constantly judging, worrying, and changing their mind—you’d have kicked them out long ago. Realizing this helps you stop being so "obedient" to every thought that passes through.

4. Resistance is what creates the pain
There’s a moment where you feel the discomfort of a difficult memory. He leans into that. He suggests that the "shattering" feeling isn't caused by the event itself, but by our resistance to it. If you stop fighting the "mathematics" of the moment and just let it pass, you remain whole.

5. Death is a great teacher of life
This one stayed with me the longest. Singer uses the "absolute zero" of mortality as a way to sharpen our focus. If you knew you were going to die tomorrow, you wouldn’t waste your "next breath" on petty resentments. Death is the architect that gives life its beauty and urgency.

6. You have to find the "deafening quiet" of the center
There’s no complex checklist here. Just an invitation to dwell in the space behind the noise. It’s about becoming the primary caretaker of your own peace by choosing to remain centered, no matter what the "wilderness" of the world is doing outside.

This isn’t a loud, demanding book. It doesn’t try to impress you with high-level theology. But somewhere along the way, it makes you pause, and that pause feels like a "deep, cathartic exhale." If you’ve been feeling a bit overwhelmed, anxious, or just too caught up in your own head, this book meets you there. Not with more things to do, but with a way to finally be. And honestly, that might be even better.

Book: https://amzn.to/3QlkLJu

Enjoy the audiobook with a membership trial using the same link.

04/21/2026

I didn’t rush through All Things New. It kind of slowed me down on its own. I’d pick it up thinking I’d read a chapter or two, and then I’d find myself looking at the horizon, wondering if I’ve been settled for a version of life that is far too small. That’s the effect John Eldredge has. He doesn’t just offer a theological argument; he shifts your internal gaze toward the hope of restoration.

What struck me most is how vivid the book is. It’s not a dry academic study of the afterlife. It keeps pointing, softly, to the "ancient knowing" we all feel—the deep, persistent ache for things to be made right. He suggests that our longing for the "safe house" of a perfect world isn't a fantasy, but a compass pointing toward a literal reality.

Eldredge blends scripture and personal storytelling in a way that feels… normal. He talks about the things we love—the mountains, the music, the way the light hits a particular field—and somehow all of it circles back to one thing: we aren't headed for a "deafening quiet" in the clouds, but for the "all things new" restoration of the earth we already love. There’s a quiet ache in the book, too. It’s the realization of how much we’ve braced ourselves against the "shattering" of the world by expecting so little from the future.

What stayed with me:

1. The Earth is not a disposable stage
This one hit. We tend to think of the future as an escape from this world. Eldredge argues that the architecture of our current home is intended for renovation, not demolition. He suggests that the "next breath" of the world is its renewal, which changes how you look at a tree or a river today.

2. We’ve normalized a "diminished" hope
The book made me realize how used we are to living in the "absolute zero" of low expectations. We protect ourselves from disappointment by assuming the best is behind us, rather than believing the "sacred flame" of our desires will actually be fulfilled.

3. Your loves are clues to your destiny
I liked how he didn’t dismiss our earthly passions. The things that make you feel "untethered" with joy now—the hobbies, the landscapes, the "web of connection" with friends—are the very things he believes will be redeemed and perfected.

4. Healing is cumulative, not just final
There’s a moment where you feel the discomfort of your own current wounds. He leans into that. He talks about the "rhythm of regulation" that comes from inviting God into the broken places of our story now, preparing us for the total restoration to come.

5. Beauty is a form of resistance
This one stayed with me the longest. In a world that can feel like a "wilderness" of bad news, noticing and creating beauty is a way of being "obedient" to the hope of the future. What you value and tend to now is a rehearsal for the life to come.

6. You have to find your own "secret name"
There’s an invitation here to realize that the architect of the universe knows your specific heart. He suggests that your individual "shredded portrait" will be made whole in a way that is unique to you. It’s an invitation to start noticing the personal "next breath" of your own transformation.

This isn’t a loud, aggressive book. It doesn’t try to scare you into belief. But somewhere along the way, it makes you pause, and that pause feels like a "deep, cathartic exhale." If you’ve been feeling a bit cynical, tired, or just too caught up in the "thorns" of the present, this book meets you there. Not with abstract answers, but with a vivid, visceral reminder that the best stories always end with a homecoming. And honestly, that might be even better.

Book: https://amzn.to/4d2yIUr

Enjoy the audiobook with a membership trial using the same link.

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