Greetings Reader!
Welcome back to The Adverbial Life, a newsletter for anyone curious about thriving solo, embracing independence, and savoring life on your own terms. I’m Tommy Hensel, and I’m writing a book called Eating Adverbs: part memoir, part mischief, part practical guide to flourishing in solo experiences.
This newsletter is more than updates. It’s a shared space. A behind-the-scenes look at the writing journey, the ideas shaping the book, and the moments (both messy and magical) that continue to teach me what it means to live boldly, mindfully, and independently.
Each issue follows the rhythm of the book, five sections inspired by the five types of adverbs: TIME, DEGREE, MANNER, PLACE, and FREQUENCY. You’ll find stories, quotes, music, books, and reflections. Sometimes vulnerable. Sometimes playful. Always honest.
This week, I’m inviting you into the next phase of the journey: helping shape the book itself. If you’ve ever wanted to be part of something from the inside out, now’s your chance. More on that below.
I’m so glad you’re here. Let’s keep building this world together.
TIME
This Week's Moment: From "Later" to "Soon"
“Progress doesn’t always look like action. Sometimes it’s just moving the pile.”
In Part One of Eating Adverbs, I explore the emotional progression of time: how we move from later, to soon, to now. It’s not always linear, and it’s rarely dramatic. Sometimes, it’s as simple as shifting a pile.
For months, I’ve had a file drawer that quietly became my “later” zone. Medical paperwork, receipts, tax forms, financial correspondence—all tucked away with the silent promise: I’ll sort this eventually.
But over the weekend, I pulled everything out and placed it on my desk. Not to tackle it. Just to see it. To let it sit beside me as I write this newsletter. It’s no longer hidden. It’s visible. It’s annoying. And that means it’s moved from later to soon.
That’s the shift. Not heroic. Not glamorous. Just intentional.
- What’s one thing in your life that’s quietly moved from “later” to “soon”?
- A pile, a plan, a promise?
Reply and share it with me. I’d love to hear how time is unfolding in your adverbial life.
DEGREE
How Deep I'm In: When Vulnerability Meets Boundaries
“Some truths need to be written, even if they’re never read.”
In the last newsletter, I wrote about the discomfort of vulnerability, how writing Eating Adverbs has asked me to show up fully, even when it’s hard. But this month, I want to share the other side of that coin: the moment when vulnerability becomes too much.
In an early draft of a chapter, I wrote about the co-dependency in my marriage and the painful split with my ex-husband. The writing was raw. Brutal, even. It poured out of me in a way that felt necessary: cathartic, clarifying, honest.
But when I read it back, I knew this wasn’t for the reader. Not in that form.
It was important to keep something of the experience in the book to illustrate how solo living isn’t always chosen, and how healing can begin in the aftermath of rupture. But I had to reflect deeply before even sending it to my editor. I had to ask: Is this truth, or is this wound?
That’s the lesson I’m learning: vulnerability isn’t just about how deep you go. It’s about how gently you surface.
- What’s something you’ve processed privately that shaped you deeply, even if you never shared it?
Reply and share it with me. I’d love to hear how you’re navigating your own thresholds of truth.
MANNER
How I'm Thriving: Gratefully, Daily, Unapologetically
“Gratitude isn’t just a feeling. It’s a practice. A rhythm. A lens.”
In Eating Adverbs, the MANNER arc moves from mindfully to boldly to gratefully. It’s a progression I’ve lived through more times than I can count. First, you notice. Then, you act. Then, you appreciate.
For the past 14 years, I’ve kept a daily ritual: writing down five things I’m grateful for. Every single day. Nearly 3,000 entries and counting. It started as a way to stay grounded during a difficult season, but it’s become one of the most powerful solo practices I know.
Some days, the list is poetic:
- The way the morning light hit the kitchen tile
- A perfectly ripe pear
- A stranger’s unexpected kindness
Other days, it’s practical:
- Finished the laundry
- Got through a tough meeting
- Didn’t forget my umbrella
But always, it’s honest. And always, it’s mine.
Gratitude, when practiced consistently, becomes a way of seeing. It turns the mundane into the meaningful. It transforms solo moments into sacred ones.
- What’s one thing you’re grateful for today, no matter how small, strange, or specific?
Reply and share it with me. I’d love to hear how you’re living gratefully.
PLACE
Where I've Been: The Ironing Board Studio
“Improvisation is the birthplace of magic.”
As part of the marketing prep for the Eating Adverbs pre-sale, I needed to shoot an introduction video. Simple enough, except I don’t have a studio in my house. (Who does?) So I improvised.
The photo below shows the backroom of my house, transformed into a DIY production set. There’s a green screen, tripods with ring lights, a stool, and then… the camera rig.
Let’s just say it’s not exactly industry standard.
To get the right height for the camera, I started with my ironing board. Then I turned over an ice bucket and placed the tripod on top. Still not high enough. So I added a wine chiller upside down on top of the ice bucket, and perched the tripod on that. It looked ridiculous. It worked perfectly.
This is what solo creativity looks like: a little absurd, a little brilliant, and entirely yours.
I used to think I needed the “right” setup to do things professionally. Now I know: I just need the right intention and a willingness to stack wine chillers if that’s what it takes.
- What’s one space you’ve transformed—however temporarily—to make something happen?
Reply and share it with me. I’d love to see your version of the ironing board studio.
FREQUENCY
What I'm Repeating: What Keeps Me Tuned In
Creativity isn’t always a lightning bolt. It’s often a rhythm. A return. These are the frequencies I’ve been tuning into lately: small rituals and repeat inspirations that keep me grounded, smiling, and moving forward.
Song on Repeat: Walking on Sunshine by Katrina & The Waves
Okay, I know this one’s polarizing. Some of my musical friends roll their eyes and call it trash. But here’s the thing: I love it. Unashamedly. It’s happy, it’s perky, it’s pure dopamine in song form. If you’re a critic, give it another listen, but don’t expect high art. That’s not the point. It’s joy. And sometimes joy is loud, bright, and a little ridiculous.
Book I Keep Returning To: The Joy of Less by Francine Jay
As I continue reshaping my space and my routines, this book keeps whispering reminders about simplicity, clarity, and intentional living. It’s not just about decluttering, it’s about making room for what matters.
Ritual: My new evening unwind
After dinner, I turn off all electronic devices. No screens. No scrolling. I settle into my favorite comfy chair, pour a glass of wine, and read fiction . . . something that takes me far away from my own world and into someone else’s. It’s quiet, immersive, and deeply restorative. Then I go to bed. No fanfare. Just presence.
YOUR TURN!
Share Your Adverb Moments
- Did you live gratefully by savoring a quiet ritual that’s just for you?
- Did you live resourcefully by stacking wine chillers to make something work?
- Did you live honestly by choosing what not to share—and honoring that boundary?
- Did you live intentionally by moving something from “later” to “soon”?
Reply to this email and share your moment—big or small, messy or magical.
I’ll be featuring a few responses in future issues (with your blessing, of course).
This isn’t just my story. It’s ours.
Let’s keep building a community of solo thrivers, one adverb at a time.
NEW OFFERING!
Living Your Adverbial Life Coaching
Inspired by the themes of Eating Adverbs, I’m now offering one-on-one coaching for anyone ready to live more intentionally, creatively, and joyfully on their own terms.
Whether you’re navigating change, craving clarity, or simply want to reclaim joy in your solo experiences, these sessions are designed to help you thrive.
Coaching tiers include:
- The Soon Session: a single 60-minute spark
- The Adverbial Reset: three sessions for focused transformation
- Living Adverbially: a full-spectrum journey over three months
- A La Carte Support: flexible half-hour check-ins
Curious? Email me and let’s start with a free 20-minute discovery call. No pressure, just a chance to connect.
Let’s build your adverbial life—one intentional moment at a time.
See you next week!
Adverbially Yours,
Tommy
