Things We Love in May
A Synced seasonal edit. Some links may or may not be affiliate links. The yogurt bowl is not sponsored. Unfortunately.
May is here. We are ready for it. Here's what we're loving.
May has a specific quality of light that does something to you if you let it. Not the aggressive summer sun that will arrive in approximately six weeks and make you question every life choice that led you to not owning a house with better air conditioning. May light is still gentle. Still golden. Still arriving at an angle that makes ordinary things look worth paying attention to.
We are paying attention. Here’s what we found.
The Balcony Hour
There is a specific window in the morning — maybe forty minutes, maybe less — where the sun hits at exactly the right angle and the shadows from the tree outside do something genuinely cinematic on the wall. If you are in that spot with a coffee and a book and absolutely nowhere to be, you have accidentally created the most effective wellness practice available to humanity.
No app. No protocol. Just light and stillness and the specific pleasure of being exactly where you are.
We’re protecting this window like it’s a meeting with someone important.
Because it is.
First Lie Wins by Ashley Elston
If you haven’t read it yet, clear your weekend. Actually clear it — don’t start this book at 10pm on a Tuesday unless you have made peace with the fact that you will not be sleeping.
It’s one of those thrillers that makes you feel slightly smug for figuring something out and then immediately humbles you three pages later. The protagonist is the kind of woman you spend the whole book trying to decide if you trust, which is exactly the energy a good thriller should have.
One of the best reads in recent memory. Five stars. No notes. Already recommending it to everyone we know.
The Yogurt Bowl That Deserves Its Own Instagram Account
Greek yogurt. Blueberries. Banana. A few dates because life is short and dates are nature’s candy. Peanut butter — the real kind, the kind where the oil sits on top and you have to stir it. A generous amount of cinnamon over the whole thing.
It sounds simple because it is simple. It tastes like someone who loves you made you breakfast. It takes four minutes and hits every macronutrient your body is looking for before 9am.
We’ve had it every morning this week and we will have it every morning next week and we have absolutely no notes.
Hibiscus Tea. Every Night.
Tart, floral, the color of something you’d order at a very good cocktail bar. Made from actual dried hibiscus flowers steeped for longer than the instructions say because that’s the only way to get it right.
It has become the thing that signals to our nervous system that the day is actually over. Not the phone going on charge, not the skin routine, not the elaborate wind-down ritual we keep meaning to implement. Just this. A large mug of something that tastes intentional.
Also genuinely good for blood pressure and packed with antioxidants, which we mention not to justify the pleasure but because it’s true and your body will appreciate it.
The Barre Class You Have to Earn
Not every day. Not even most days. But on the days when the energy is right — when you woke up properly rested and fed and the body is asking for something rather than dreading it — a monster barre class is one of life’s genuine pleasures.
The specific satisfaction of muscles working hard at something graceful. The way it makes you stand differently for the rest of the day. The quiet pride of having done the hard thing on the day you actually wanted to do it rather than the day you forced yourself.
We are not doing this on tired Tuesdays. We are saving it for the days it will actually feel good. This is not laziness. This is knowing yourself.
Letting People Finish
This one is embarrassingly simple and quietly transformative.
When someone is talking and you feel the urge to jump in — to finish their sentence, to redirect, to add your own version of the story — just don’t. Wait. Let them keep going. Let them find the end of the thought themselves.
What you’ll find is that most people have more to say than they’re usually given space to say. That the conversation gets better when you stop managing it. That listening — actual listening, not just waiting for your turn — is one of the most generous things you can offer another person.
We've been practicing this lately and it has made us better in rooms and better at being a friend.
It has also occasionally revealed that some people will talk for a very long time if you let them. This is also useful information.
The Thought That Is Just a Thought
Somewhere recently we stumbled back into the practice of noticing an intrusive thought and simply saying: “that’s just a thought”. Not a fact, or evidence of something wrong with you. Just a thought, passing through, the way thoughts do when they have nowhere particular to be.
It works in a way that feels almost suspicious. Like it should be more complicated than that.
We have learned not to think too hard about why it works because thinking too hard about why it works becomes, itself, an intrusive thought. There is a lesson in there somewhere about knowing when to stop pulling the thread.
What May Feels Like
Like something opening. Like the year finally keeping its promises. Like there is enough light and enough warmth and enough of the particular kind of morning that makes you want to be awake for it.
We hope yours looks something like this.
About Synced
We write about the body, the mind, the rituals, the science, and the occasional beautiful waste of a Sunday afternoon. Honestly, with a little humor, and always with the assumption that you’re a smart woman who can make her own decisions.
Some women find Synced and learn something new. Most find it and finally feel like someone’s speaking their language
