Kate Bowler: Hey friends, it’s Kate. I just wanna tell you some big news. I’ve got a new book coming out. It’s called Joyful Anyway, and it’s gonna be out in the world on April 7th, 2026. And it’s available now for pre-order. It’s a book about what joy really is, not this glossy version we’re sold, but the real surprising kind that can coexist with our pain, our questions, and our beautiful ordinary lives. So if you’ve ever wondered whether joy is still possible for you, even now, this book is my wholehearted yes. You can pre-order it wherever books are sold and it really helps a lot when you do. Pre-order is this weird thing with authors where it lets everybody know that it’s the book that they want on sale and on shelf spaces and it’s just like a little vote of confidence. So if want to pre-order, it’s all yours.
Hello my friends, I’m Kate Bowler and this is Everything Happens. Well, it’s that time of year again where we look back and ask, with equal parts curiosity and dread, so how did that actually go?
Today is our third annual Happy Crappy with my dear friend, writer and host of Tell Me More, Kelly Corrigan. This week we’re starting with the Crappy. The personal, professional, and global lows of 2025. It’s honest and tender and just the right amount of downer. Also, just talking about those things makes us laugh. But if you’ve been carrying around your own list of disappointments and losses this year, I hope this conversation will make you feel a little less alone.
Here’s my conversation with the lovely, effervescent Kelly Corrigan.
Kelly Corrigan: Hi, Kate Bowler.
Kate Bowler: Oh my gosh, Kelly. It’s that time of year. Could it be?
Kelly Corrigan: I know. That really caught me off guard this year, I have to say.
Kate Bowler: Yeah, I think too, because we did this—is this our third time?
Kelly Corrigan: Yeah, it is. It is. This is our third annual Happy Crappy.
Kate Bowler: I have come to rely on it as a way of having a retrospective moment.
Kelly Corrigan: It is. It was really interesting. Like yesterday, I thought, Oh, I should like take a minute and go for a walk and think about what these three things are for Crappy and three things that are for Happy. So for the listener, just to review, we do one whole conversation about what was crappy this year—personally, professionally, and nationally or globally. And then we come back the next week and do a nice positive episode on what was happy—personally, professionally, globally.
Kate Bowler: But Kelly, this is how I know that you actually love me: you’re willing to have a sustained conversation with me about what’s garbage. Whereas every other interview—I did an interview recently where I could tell they were like, “Kate, not another story like that again. Debbie Downer.”
Kelly Corrigan: Yeah, this is the Debbie Downer episode. This is like, “Oh great, all of our lives are— we’re all getting punched out.”
Kate Bowler: This is the commiseration.
Kelly Corrigan: All right, so you go first. Give me your personal low of 2025.
Kate Bowler: Okay, actually, it’s good because I’m coming fresh off it. My personal low for 2025. Well, I started this year by really deciding that I was going to try to solve. So I have all this chronic pain and I continue to grow these awful growths that make colon cancer just constantly on the horizon. So I was like, I’m going to just spend an inordinate amount of effort on PT and massage therapy and researching new things and bajillion dollar supplements and contacting companies that are doing interesting things in advancing the relationship between medicine and wellness. And I’m going to treat this regularly like the part-time job that it is. I’ll run like two big experiments every six months, and then get my colonoscopy to see how it goes. And by the end, I thought I should at least be able to lower my pain level somewhat, because dear God, I’m a smart person and I’m giving 100% obsession. So I took a minute—because we were going to talk—to be like, how’d this year go?
Kelly Corrigan: Uh oh. And it ended up in the Crappy episode? Uh oh, I think I see the end in sight and it’s not good, people.
Kate Bowler: For all of the… and it was unbelievably expensive. Like, if I look at the thing that cost me the most every month—it’s not my housing, it’s not my food—it’s my health. And when I added it all up, I realized that I made a lot of very creative efforts. And my pain level is basically the same. But it just requires that much effort. So… it’s going to probably always be this way. I guess I had theories about how maybe, if I had perfect posture and great muscle tone, like all the things people say—”you’re just almost there, just master yourself!” And better posture has helped me, I have less pain than before. But the amount I’m in right now… I think this is a life sentence. And I found that more depressing than I expected.
Kelly Corrigan: You know, there’s no spokesperson for acceptance. And it really needs one. There should be products for it, just like there are for “change is always possible,” or “optimize your life.” So many spokespeople, so many products around that. There’s so much money to be made behind that message. But acceptance? Nobody’s selling that. So you never bump into that message. The messages you get hit with—the ones you have to really dodge if you’re in a situation like yours—are always: there’s more you can do.
Kate Bowler: Always. And it’s so hopeful. I’m so motivated by that kind of hope. And I’m also just desperate enough for it. I find myself looking at Instagram feeds, seeing ads for things I’ve already tried a million times. Like, those Velcro posture contraptions. Or that bra that’s supposed to change your life—Joanne used to be a hunch, and now…
Kelly Corrigan: …Joanne’s no longer a hunchback because of this $80 miracle! The before-and-after photos. Brutal.
Kate Bowler: It is. I really like what you’re saying, Kelly, because I think that’s what’s tricky about acceptance. You’re never exactly sure when you’ve gotten there. But when you get there—for example, I have to have three massages a week. That doesn’t include PT or the other stuff I do. Three massages every week or else I can’t function. That’s a lot of time and a lot of money. And I just end up, in the back of my mind, feeling kind of guilty for how much—especially money—it costs.
Kelly Corrigan: Right, so there’s the thing, and then there’s how you feel about the thing. And the feelings around the thing—they’re compounding the thing. Here’s what I wonder—and I’m probably blanketing you with toxic positivity right now—but could acceptance be hopeful? Could any of us believe in a future where we say, this is what this feels like. This is what my body feels like. This is what this relationship feels like. And maybe I’m not going to be able to alter that. So… I’m going to stop looping on it. I don’t know if that’s possible. Do you?
Kate Bowler: I’m just thinking what I would do to go through that process. Lately, I’ve been very into ritualizing the things I’m struggling through. I do think rituals are powerful. Maybe I would write down a whole list of all the things I’ve tried—which are legion—and circle the ones that did help. But maybe the biggest thing I want to be free of, including for myself, is the secondary suffering. The guilt. The shame that I couldn’t figure it out. So if I could look at that list and say, “Good job, good and faithful Kate. You really went at this. You got yourself from here to here. Sometimes we do have to save our own lives, and you did. And now… it kind of looks like this number of appointments a week is what you’re going to have to get used to.” That might have serious limitations. But maybe we can ease the feeling that it was supposed to be different.
Kelly Corrigan: Right. Let’s send those reactions out on a paper boat across the water. Bye-bye. We’re not going to do that anymore. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. But how many times are we going to play with that idea?
Kate Bowler: And honestly, one thing I’ve gotten out of our friendship—we’re both very confident, at least for other people, that everybody has something. I don’t know if we always give that grace to ourselves. But for everyone else? Absolutely. So this year, I realized chronic pain is my forever friend. And it’s going to be like a mortgage.
Kelly Corrigan: Mine is also a forever thing. When I was growing up, I was one of three kids, two parents, same house our whole lives—168 Woodland Lane. We called it the 168 Club. It was a robust and vital place to be. My dad had nicknames for us: Ouch the Grouch, Crabbo Crabola, Bossy Brindle. There were chores, noise, good hearty fighting, games, football, commotion. Then, my mom died a year ago. Now it’s just the three of us, and one of my brothers is all the way in Florida with a very sick wife. My family of origin has gotten really small. And kind of thin.
Our kids aren’t mostly home anymore. Of the six grandchildren, four are out in the world. There’s no gravitational pull. There’s no longer the house. No convening place where everyone is welcome and it belongs to us. I was talking to Tammy about it, and she asked, “Is your life expanding or contracting?”
And there’s this incredible stretch from your twenties onward—adding work, a partner, kids—it’s just growing, growing, growing. And then you come around the corner, and it starts to thin. People go to college. People die. You spend more time alone.
What we decided is: when you notice the contraction, you have to find some way to fill the space. And not with little things. Not a volunteer hour here or there. Something significant. Something immersive. Because love is exhausting. It consumes you. When all the plates are spinning, you fantasize about the quiet. But when the quiet comes? You’d trade it for the spinning plates in a second—even the smashing ones.
So my personal crappy is that I hate the very true fact that my family of origin, the 168 Club, is smaller. And it always will be. There are things I can do to fill my life, but there’s no getting that back. The least you can do is know what you have when you have it. And when you don’t, build something significant around the loss.
Kate Bowler: Oh Kelly, there’s so much emotional intelligence in that. It reminds me of the mail I get after tragedy—people trying to fill the abyss. And what fills it isn’t vitamins or better habits. It’s something obsessive and immersive that lets you dive in. Something that puts you into slow time.
There’s this one man I heard about who lost his wife. She ordered his whole world. And so, he built a birdhouse. And then another. And then hundreds. Eventually, his obsession became connection. He started giving them away. His passion pulled him forward until he was ready for people again. Maybe what we choose has to tug on us. Maybe it has to tax us.
Kelly Corrigan: Yes. I think we want to be taxed. Bone tired. Not everything that’s easy will satisfy. I think we want to be used up.
Kate Bowler: You said something two years ago that stuck with me: “What if I’m just floating over the surface of things? What if I’m snacking on the universe?” That fear of having too many small pleasures and none of them adding up.
Kelly Corrigan: Yes. I work like that—many projects, stations of creativity. A screenplay here, a memoir there, a house in Bozeman. And sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened if I’d done just one thing for 40 years. Written books. Made films. But what I’ve come to is this: respect for how I work. Acceptance. That’s not me. And also, a real reverence for people who do work that way. Like Margaret Atwood, head down, still producing words.
Kate Bowler: Hon, where did you land on something immersive? Because I see you as a true family person. You love the feeling at the center—people talking over each other in the kitchen. That fills your heart. I had a big family feeling weekend recently, for my son’s birthday. Nerf war, sleepovers, chaos. And I got choked up. It’s rare for me.
Kelly Corrigan: Well, we raised our kids in California. Then both our daughters moved East for college. And we bought a place in New York City. Had to leave people behind in California. But California started feeling like an empty husk. Now we’re together again. Georgia has her friends here, and they fill the house, the heart.
This past weekend was the NYC Marathon. Both girls ran, plus some Corrigan cousins. We had the carbo-load party Saturday night, then hit Corner Bistro Sunday. People kept coming in, clapping for the medals. It was that feeling. Commotion. That sounds like love to me.
So yes, I miss the 168 Club forever. But I’m building a new gravitational center.
Kate Bowler: Yeah…
Kelly Corrigan: What was your professional crappy?
Kate Bowler: Oh, it was so bad. My parents were professors. Taught everyone who came in. Open access, democratic beauty. I’m a romantic about universities. I even wore blazers with elbow patches. But my dad always warned me: “This place will break your heart.”
And then I got to Duke. Gargoyles! Prestige! But this year, higher ed went into crisis. Funding cuts. Culture wars. It hit everything I do. Universities are under threat, and people who serve—teachers, researchers—they’re trying to do more with less.
Even at the hospital this week, my doctor said they might not get funding for the final phase of a study. It’s every sector—academia, medicine, social work. Everyone stretched thin.
Kelly Corrigan: Our friends in Bozeman all lost their research grants. They’ve given 30 years to tiny but essential questions. Things that touch climate, agriculture, medicine. And suddenly, they’re told they’re redundant. It’s insulting. And it’s dangerous.
Kate Bowler: It is. Because institutions are built by faithfulness. Universities, churches. It takes everything just to get there—grad school, low pay, daycare juggling—and then you finally get to apply your gifts. And then someone tells you: “You’re the problem.” But the people doing slow, unglamorous work? They’re saving us.
Kelly Corrigan: My professional crappy? We didn’t get the foundation grant we applied for. It was about love. About letting go. We’ve done 10 funded series. But this one? We didn’t get it. And it stings. Because by the time you apply, you’re already in love with the work. You’ve already written the proposal like it’s real.
Kate Bowler: Oh yeah, by the time you hand it in, you’ve basically done 90% of the work. Now you’re just saying, “Please fund the last 10% I haven’t finished yet.” And also, those grants put you in touch with amazing people—academics, researchers, thoughtful collaborators. It’s not just the money. It’s the immersive experience, the accountability, the adventure.
Kelly Corrigan: Exactly. We’re held to high standards, which I like. Because in podcasting? Only 5% are carefully vetted. There are 6 million podcasts. Most are people flipping on a mic and saying, “How hard could it be?” But we’re the dummies who are really trying to get it right.
Kate Bowler: Forty hours of work per episode.
Kelly Corrigan: At least. But I love the part where I’m alone with their work. Like we’re prepping to interview George Saunders, and his new book? I devoured it. Annotated every page. Circled, underlined, smiled, cried. Being alone with someone’s words, that’s the sacred part. Anyway, that was my professional low.
Kate Bowler: I’m sorry, love you.
Kelly Corrigan: Thanks. Okay… What was your national or global crappiest moment of 2025?
Kate Bowler: Oh gosh. It’s hard to put a fine point on it. There’s been a tidal wave of authoritarianism and cruelty. But the treatment of immigrants is the most heartbreaking and alarming to me. As an immigrant myself—even though I’m a white Canadian and my path was easy by comparison—I’ve known how scary and fragile it can feel. At one point, a misfile meant I couldn’t get health insurance. That tiny taste was enough.
And then to watch people denied due process. Denied spiritual care. Pope Leo just made a statement about it—that detained people couldn’t even access communion. That’s not just a ritual; it’s a lifeline. Catholic doctrine says it’s necessary. And yet… we’ve made a spectacle out of cruelty. We’ve othered people who hold up our economy—agriculture wouldn’t function without them.
Meanwhile, billionaires exist in the same world as starving children. It feels completely upside down. But the public cruelty towards immigrants? That feels like theater now. And it terrifies me.
Kelly Corrigan: Yeah. Mine’s about the Department of Justice. It’s this shift from neutrality to vendetta. It used to be—at least I hoped—it was full of civil servants committed to the Constitution over party. But now it feels like the DOJ has a single client. And attention is finite. If it’s on one person’s grievance, then other cases—potentially affecting millions—are ignored.
I worry we’re setting a precedent that future administrations, of any party, will follow. And that we’ve lost the long-term view. The one that says: we’re protecting the system, not just scoring wins today.
Kate Bowler: Yes. Protecting the system. One of the most popular shows this year was The Residence—a murder in the White House. But one subplot was about whether institutions like the White House should belong to all of us. Michelle Obama once said that’s how she saw it—not their house, our house. That idea of stewardship.
What worries me is this tone of domination. Weaponized certainty. The moment I hear it in a speech—within five seconds—I know: you are a culture warrior. And that tone? It doesn’t build anything. It doesn’t care about the health of the institution. It just wants to win.
Kelly Corrigan: Exactly. Culture wars don’t protect the future. They torch the present. And hey—small positive note—Brad Porteous was a guest on my podcast this year. He founded Bridge Grades, which gives a polarization report card to Congress members. Nonpartisan. Every statement and vote goes into a formula. You get graded on whether you’re protecting the institutions—or just trying to win for your side.
Because that’s the thing: some people don’t even see sides. They just see the future. They care about longevity. And nowism? That obsession with the short-term? It’s the opposite of what a federal government should be doing.
Kate Bowler: Yes. We need to know who’s building and who’s burning.
Kelly Corrigan: So that’s our Crappy. Come back next week for Happy. It’s going to be deliriously upbeat. Sunshine and rainbows, baby. I’ll be like on a stump giving a speech—but a happy one!
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