You Can Catch the Next One
On fancy pants and spoiled milk
The Fountain of Milk by Salvador Dalí, 1945
NEWSLETTER 13
I have this astrology app that doubles as a social network. My friends and I all input our data and it assigns mantras and instructions for the day based on our astrological charts. Little do’s and don’ts lists. Insights into how we might be feeling. Sometimes it offers up a charming little conseil like, “go on a road trip with Nat!” and I screenshot it and send it to her and we relish in a 5-minute text message back-and-forth about where we should go. It’s nice! It’s lovely! We have such a fun time. There’s another little section right beside that one that says who to avoid. This feels troubling to me because, for the last two weeks, it has told me to avoid my best friend. I screenshotted this too and sent it to her and we’ve been laughing about it because I believe both of us are capable of critical thought and that allows us not to take all of these little things we turn to for guidance as gospel and when I think about that it makes it extra hard for me to understand people who use religion as grounds for hate.
But who am I to preach discernment?
Sometimes I buy things to make my wardrobe or my home look more like the photos posted by the strangers I follow on Instagram. I don’t actually ever post photos of my wardrobe or my home on Instagram, so I’m not entirely sure who I’m doing it all for. Sometimes the very expensive pants that I expect will be my favourite by virtue of how expensive and Instagram famous they are, turn out not to be my favourite at all and I wonder if something is wrong with me: Why don’t I like the same things as everybody else? Also, what or who is an aesthetic actually for if it isn’t being photographed? I honestly don’t really know, because I don’t spend that much time in public places, but wow I had high hopes for me in these pants.
According to a podcast I’m listening to, I am an introvert which is described as being someone with such a loud and vivid internal landscape that the external world feels like an unwanted distraction from our delightful inner universes. They said it can make crowded spaces feel exhausting because imagine trying to listen to two Ted Talks at once! This explains the reason why I rarely find myself in public places where my fancy pants would be appreciated. Anyway, the podcast host went on to say that introverts gather intuition within and that feels as though it is in direct contradiction to my ongoing quest for an external answer to who I am. (This makes me highly vulnerable to marketing. See: Very Expensive Pants.)
This quest has taken me down many rabbit holes and roads. There are the more earthly and practical ones like Meyers Briggs personality types and mental health diagnoses and attachment theories (things invented by academic white folx and therefore more commonly accepted in spaces like an office, say). And there are the ones deemed more esoteric, cosmic, (a little harder for white Westerners to digest because they haven’t yet been peer-reviewed). These are things like astrology, human design, tarot, etc. I personally gobble it all up indiscriminately. I’ve gathered all these little pieces and made a very rich and confusing mosaic about who I am and how I must be. Symptoms and personality traits that I read about and think, “Oh! That makes so much sense!” and then feel calmer because it’s simpler to have a me-shaped mold to fit into than to have to make it up as I go.
And isn’t that the nice part about all these little labels and collective identities? I meet another avoidant-attached Scorpio or someone diagnosed Bipolar and I feel a kinship I might not immediately feel with a Reflector Aries, although in both cases these are things that help me feel like I understand that person better because, Wow! They found meaning within, too!
Sometimes it’s a trap though. Sometimes these labels make us feel like we’re vibing with someone and then that person reveals a little something about themselves that suddenly places us on entirely separate planets. Treachery! The thing that pulled us together morphs into something that flattens us out. Divides us into factions. I feel my gut flora shift into a highly acidic intolerance for all of their viewpoints.
These are the moments when my ability to discern is interrupted by my little internal town crier running around screaming at the top of his lungs that everything is on fire. And let me tell you, if my rich introverted inner landscape wasn’t already loud enough, the din of this panicked little guy makes it very hard to engage with anything or anyone external in any kind of meaningful way. This town crier has gone by many names throughout the years: intuition, anxiety, being anti-social, neurotic … Whatever his name, when he lights up, I react.
Sometimes I’m so quick to label something (or in my worst moments, someONE) toxic and slap a little skull and crossbones sticker on them that I forget to practice exactly what I preach, which is to let go of binaries and absolutes. To sit in awe of the prismatic nature of full and complex beings and situations. To lean into curiosity rather than judgment.
[There is massive privilege in this being able to watch and walk away and that needs to be acknowledged. This choice I have to engage or not. To take a step back. It hinges on my whiteness.]
So I’ve been trying. Trying to be more aware of this. Trying to step out from behind my safe little dais and just listen.
It doesn’t happen instantly. First, I have to scrunch my eyes and hold up a “not now” hand to the little person whisper-shouting my next line at me from the backstage of my mind. Without that distraction, I’m better able to observe a person’s face and shoulders and the colour of their eyes. I’m freed up to take in the very corporeal nature of their being and recognize the human behind all the vitriol, and acknowledge that they too have an astrological chart and a trauma response and a nervous system and an algorithmic bubble and maybe even a diagnosis! At this stage, I usually take a big sip of very cold water and an audible breath and feel some of the knots in my back slip loose which creates a little more space for breathing and absorbing.
Last week, a conversation with my Dad about the upcoming elections organically evolved into the kind of disagreement that reveals fundamental differences in the way we perceive, interact with and exist in the world. It triggered this almost desperate feeling of being extremely limited by being just one person. If I can’t convince my own Dad, how will I ever get the world to understand? Historically speaking, my Father and I are prone to conversing as though we were Monster Truck announcers competing for the microphone over the din of loud engines. We both feel a great deal of conviction. We both pride ourselves on having the right knowledge. We both have been told that our cleverness is one of our best attributes, so we cling to it fiercely. I have, well into my adult years, been reduced to furious tears by these conversations. I’ve sat and wondered how on earth to exist in the dissonance of wanting my Father’s approval and living my very own life based on my very own values. I have no idea how these conversations impact him. Dad, if you’re reading this, please let me know!
This might just be the inherent and humbling wisdom that comes with age, or it might be that my wonderful extroverted girlfriend is helping to balance me, or it might be as simple as engaging with the world outside my algorithmic bubble, my internal landscape, this little clique I’ve found to feel safe in, but whatever it is … I somehow managed to calm the town crier. To hush the prompter. I somehow managed to lovingly disagree with my Dad without dissolving into sour milk and spilling all over the floor.
[I still cried and profusely apologized for two days, but the fluidity in me felt novel and delightful and was a really nice alternative to the curdling I’ve been so prone to.]
[There is privilege here too in being in dialogue with a parent with whom I can converse this way and still love one another.]
I’m really not trying to write a manual here. I think this is more of a confession. A bow in deference to curiosity. In deference to not knowing. I think this is a very gentle step down from my little self-made podium and into a more complex optimism and a more open kind of activism. A gentler plea for harmony. Or maybe even a redefinition of what harmony might look and feel like.
In the end, I suppose, I’m just a little town crier trying to figure out what to do in my early retirement.
TOOLS AND RITUALS FOR SELF-SOOTHING
This Spotify playlist I made for you to dance or sway or walk or bike to.
Re-mentioning the novel Luster by Raven Leilani because I initially called it refreshing, and it very much is, but it is also so very rooted and deep and hit me in all kinds of visceral ways. Can’t recommend it enough having now finished it! Wow!
I’m two-thirds of the way through reading Polysecure and feel so validated and nourished by this book. Jessica Fern delivers a mind-expanding explanation of how our relationships are impacted by her nested model of attachment and trauma. I love it. I’ll write more next month when I’m finished with it. I know it also exists as an audiobook if you’re interested!
I made and also bought new candles and a face mask this month and it is cliché but it feels very lovely.
Voting! Take your democratic power into your own hands! It feels wonderful!!! There’s a debate tonight, Canada!
The Happiness Lab podcast is generally pretty fun, but this episode on treating the pain of a broken heart, and also this other one on the wisdom of the Torah have been really nice additions to my daily Dallas dog walks every day.
This one is not transferrable, but my hot, charming, wonderful human life partner is returning from nearly a month away this Tuesday and I am soothed by the alone time I had, and soothed by her return!
The Folx Health and Wellness Summit is stacked, events-wise, and largely financially accessible (though I’d be happy to help someone out if you feel the cost is a barrier!)
My fabulous friend and writing partner Raeven has a truly excellent newsletter that you may not think applies to you because it centers on themes of motherhood, but as it turns out, themes of motherhood really do apply to us all, and she’s an incredibly wise and mindful human with great insight that I am always always always learning from and in awe of!
WHERE YOU CAN FIND ME THESE DAYS
Golden Nuggets: Good Mourning - A 40 Day Collective Movement Medley.
A collection of humans in the heart-work of exploratory movement share their favourite somatic practices, embodied wisdom, resonant cues, personal practices, lessons learned, and bad jokes. Every day for 40 days there will be a different practice lead by a different facilitator sharing whatever it is that lights them up. Offerings include but are not limited to yoga, pilates, dance, kundalini, Daoism, pranayam, meditation, magic, HIIT, sound healing, illustration, kirtan, writing, and ceremony.
Wednesday, September 22 - Sunday, October 31 [Mon-Fri 7-8AM // Sat-Sun 9-10am]
Infinity Fall Session: Online and Outdoor Weekly Group Classes
There are REALLY fun and exciting things happening behind the scenes with Infinity, all of which will be revealed very, very soon. In the meantime, make sure you’re subscribed to our newsletter to be kept up to date on our upcoming Fall classes launching on the Equinox, September 22.
More info to come!
I am officially adding SPIN to my teaching roster now. I think my playlists are pretty fun. The studio has shoes, so don’t let that stop you. Book online or message me if you’re curious/nervous!
I am currently teaching Wednesdays at 5:30 pm and Thursdays at 8:00 am!
HMU with questions, concerns, or general curiosities about the reformer. It really is a magical tool for safely and efficiently moving your body. A list of my rates is linked above.
Don’t be shy! Reach out let’s chat!