What the h*ll is a third, thin place?

The meaning behind the name

I'm so glad you asked. Before I launch into the meaning of this frankenstein-ed term, I want to thank you for being here (THANK YOU) and give you a bit of insight into who I am, and what the heck I'm doing writing a newsletter.

Who?

My name is Rebecca Jarvis Havian, but - as anyone close to me knows - referring to me as “Rebecca” or even “Becca” (on a bad day) is punishable by law. As someone who craves closeness to and intimacy with other people, a nickname holds precious value to me. Admittedly, I often leapfrog over the quality time and trusted secret-sharing that leads one to develop a nickname for another; my philosophy in life is really one of, “Ah, let’s cut the shit…” And my process of introducing myself to people reflects that urgent desire for candor and vulnerability. I often come in hot with, “Hi! I’m Bec!” So, Bec it is. Or Becky. Or some fun new moniker you drum up. I’m all ears.

Damn, the girl can ramble. I’m gonna give you a list of facts about me in an effort to mitigate the urge to monologue:

• My name is Becca (this is a test)

• I’m 27 years young

• I’m originally from Piedmont, California (a small town in the Bay Area)

• I went to Bates College in Maine, and majored in Rhetoric (ya b*tch, rhetoric… keep it to yourself)

• I’ve lived in the Northeast since starting college (first Maine, then New York, and most recently Massachusetts - namely Cape Cod)

• This past May I completed my Master’s in Counseling for Mental Health and Wellness at NYU ayooo

• I’m queer (and proud of it!)

• If you are what you eat, I am Yogurt

• When I was 13, my soccer coach (and incidentally best friend Jo Ireland’s father) yelled across the field during a game, “FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, BECCA, RUN!!!” That should tell you all you need to know about me.

I’m not gonna do the whole, “I love the outdoors and personal style and short walks on the beach” thing (Op! too late), cause you’ll learn as we go, but now you’re equipped with the most rudimentary stuff.

Why?

Now, for why I’m starting this newsletter. I’ve always loved writing, but never really considered myself A Writer. I have a rather active mind, which in recent years has led me to pick up my phone and take to the divisive app, TikTok. In the early days of the pandemic, my content was lighthearted and mostly related to the mullet I’d impulsively had cut by a willing and tight-lipped hairdresser (talk about punishable by law…)

But with my transition from rural Maine to New York City, I felt more and more drawn to sharing my experience of loneliness - one I found perplexing. In Maine, I’d felt physically isolated, but found my community to be cohesive, strong. In New York, I was constantly surrounded by people, yet felt deeply alone. This confused me, given that the vast majority of my closest friends from home and college all lived within a two-mile radius of my apartment. But unlike my life in Maine, there was no “local haunt” where I could stumble across my buddies on a Tuesday night. Each interaction required coordination and, frankly, texting. Which takes some of the magic away.

Rather than simply gripe to my friends (which you bet your bottom dollar I did - sorry girls), I felt compelled to share my experience in video form on an oft-inhospitable app, and was surprisingly met with a resounding, “UGH, tell me about it!” The proverbial, “ditto.” I shared my experience of the summer blues, my anecdote to a funk, my toolbox for a period of depression. I also shared less solemn musings, like my favorite ”unsexy” products, my post-color analysis epiphany, and plenty of outfit/styling videos (many of which involved my muse, Diane Keaton). Regardless of a given video’s theme, the prevailing comments I received related to my authenticity and vulnerability, and demonstrated my audience’s strong desire for community and connection.

What?

Through my internet playtime, I discovered a term that perfectly encapsulated the object of longing I felt: “A Third Place.” American urban sociologist, Ray Oldenberg, coined the term in the nineties in his book, “The Great Good Place.” His definition identified these as “all the wonderful places where people gather, put aside the concerns of home and work (our first and second places), and hang out simply for the pleasures of good company and lively conversation.” These places - think Central Perk in Friends, or Cheers in Cheers - are “the heart of a community’s social vitality,” and “essential to community health and individual well-being.” They offer opportunities for “regular, voluntary, informal, and happily anticipated gatherings.” Over the course of the twentieth century, these spaces became less and less frequented, and thus less common, which has led to the fraying of the precious fabric of American life. We’ve moved away from collectivism towards individualism, and we’re hurting for it.

Around the same time I was exploring this concept, I traveled to Vermont for the wedding of two longtime friends. In college I had attended a PHENOMENAL summer program through Middlebury College, called MiddCORE. At the time, the program was based in Lake Tahoe (a place I’ve loved and known my whole life) and, over the course of five weeks, we participants faced “daily, weekly, and month-long challenges designed to build the CORE strengths needed to become effective leaders and creative problem solvers.” Amazingly, nine of us from this program have remained good friends (with an active group chat to prove it), and still host reunions to this day. Two of our pals kindled their love at MiddCORE and we all journeyed to Vermont last summer to attend their wedding, seven years later.

During this love fest, a handful of us paid a visit to our favorite mentor and MiddCORE Director/Instructor, Mike Kiernan’s, family home outside Middlebury. As we perused the Kiernans’ yard, taking in the lush eden that surrounded their thoughtfully-fashioned home, I turned to their family friend, Sam. “Wow, this place is magic,” I gushed. To which she responded, “It’s a thin place.” Thin places, she shared, are those where the veil between this world and the mystical is thin, translucent. The term originated in the Celtic tradition to describe “locales where the distance between heaven and earth collapses and we’re able to catch glimpses of the divine, or the transcendent or… the Infinite Whatever” (NYT). These places are special; they shimmer.

If you know me, or watch my videos, you know that much of my twenties has been characterized by this intense longing for places that are both “third” and “thin.” I’ve been rather successful in discovering these magical little pockets: some of my earliest finds were mornings on the West Shore of Lake Tahoe, Camp Augusta campfires, after-hours couch time watching Nick At Nite during a sleepover at my grandma’s retirement home. More recently I’ve stumbled across Midcoast Maine, rural Vermont, the Outer Cape - to name a few.

It’s my belief that third, thin places lovingly address a hole in us that many (I’d argue, most) yearn to fill. My hope is that this newsletter can not only offer a place that is both third and thin to supplement your first, second and thicker places, but also provide you with tools that can bolster your own ability to carve out magic and community in your daily life. I guess my hope is that after reading each weekly newsletter, you feel a renewed willingness to identify and highlight the good in this world.

Logistics

I’ll be posting each Monday and alongside that week’s post, I’ll upload a companion video to TikTok. This will allow me to flesh out a given topic and provide space on a variety of mediums to facilitate conversation and, ultimately, connection.

At the end of each newsletter, I’ll include my rose, bud and thorn for the week. I’ll also be sprinkling in some other goodies here are there, like product recommendations and such (requests encouraged), cause why not?? I’m a woman of many interests, and with lots to say (shocker).

You’ll be notified when I post each week (it’ll come up as “AT,TP by Becca Havian” in your inbox), and I’d recommend reading in the mobile app (by clicking “read in app”) or on the desktop version (by clicking “view in browser” in the top right corner) rather than in your email. Not only will you get to experience the publication’s pretty, thoughtfully-curated color scheme, but you’ll be able to navigate to other phenomenal blogs - Substack is truly a goldmine for knowledge and inspiration.

One final shoutout to my pal Emily Kiernan - one of those treasured MiddCORE friends whom I’ve held close all these years. Her brilliant mind and impeccable eye were instrumental in helping me get this project off the ground. For the past three months, we’ve collaborated on the AT,TP logo design, font development and color story, and her support has helped me hone and actualize my baby!! She understood and bought into my vision from the outset, and there is no one who would have been better suited to help all this come together.

Alright, that’s all for now. I’ll see you next week :)

Final bits and bobs

P.S. I love engaging with others and “getting into the good stuff,” so please comment on the weekly posts if you feel so inclined! I chose Substack because it’s a great option for community-building and discourse. Also follow the AT,TP Instagram - I’ll be active on there throughout the week (maybe go live…?) and will share some exclusive stufffff ;)

P.P.S. A fear of mine is that people will read the title and assume that “thin” has something to do with the topic of body image/weight loss. In case it’s not abundantly clear, that is not the case and I would be so sad if that takeaway prevented potential readers from engaging!! Please dispel this notion, should you come across whisperings lol.

Ok goodbye for real. À bientôt!