13: dreaming from unstable ground🌛
on hope, FOMO, and finding grounding in nothing but yourself (april 2021)
Iteration #13 of this monthly letter full of feelings.
This issue's theme is: ☁︎ dreaming from unstable ground ☁︎
This taurus seasons marked my 30th year on this earth in this body, and as my friend Arti wrote: "I am not the only sad bitch turning 30 in a pandemic, but it sure fucking feels like it." What a big lonely year to turn this big weighted age; and what a weird time in this year, with the ~promise~ of life "opening up" again and all of the FOMO that comes and goes. This year was supposed to mark all of this adulthood & I'm living in my mom's basement. I am holding the duality of feeling lucky to have what I have and the bitterness of losing. Holding it all at once.
I've found that I tend to stop myself before I start; feel the need to have all of the answers and have solid ground to stand on before I jump. I'm holding myself back from dreaming because I'm afraid of dreaming from a place of lack. It's impossible to predict the perfect conditions. Whenever I start to find my bearings, the ground shifts again; it shifts and shifts every time it feels like I finally have a plan. (I've always known this to be true, it's the kind of existential burden that's probably easy to attribute to the whole dead dad thing). But that's the whole myth of sisyphus thing, right? We have to keep pushing the boulder up the hill, keep dreaming, keep creating in spite of ourselves, trying to create something despite the loss.
MAGIC LOVES A VOID
I'm trying to go into the warm months with this mentality: magic loves a void. I've been saying it over & over since my friend Anna said it in our Dead Parent Club Chat (every wednesday on clubhouse, join us!) – she was saying it in response to relationships that no longer serve you, friends that can't hold you in your grief or continuously ask more of you than they give. When you release what isn't serving you, something new takes it's place. This is not a new concept to me: I've been told SO MANY TIMES to "leap and the net will appear" or "behind every closed door is a window" or whatever. But this hits different. Something about it! It feels huge to me.
Magic loooooves a void. A void, not just an empty space – a vacuous void, pulling and beckoning for magic to enter. I think a day hasn't gone by since she said it that I haven't repeated it to someone (if you're reading this and rolling your eyes, whatever!) I'm trying to tap into this possibility through the summer, through the social media induced fear of missing out when I see people out at parties, out at bars, exploring the neighborhoods that feel like home. I'm trying to remind myself that the choice to stay here can hopeful; trying to soak up any possibility for me in this moment – wring out all of the disappointment of this time and let the next chapter play out in front of me; relinquish control and just open myself up to the magic, trust my intuition and see what happens. Release the grip on the things that aren't for me, let what is meant for me relax into me. Some real saturn return shit right there.
I took these photographs on a Saturday in April that really sucked. The plants I've been able to keep alive in this house, despite it not being my own home or my own sacred personal space, remind me that all of the things I projected onto my apartment still live inside me. I am carrying around that safety, that coziness, the feeling of freedom from living in NYC inside my weird human vessel. It's not planted in the ground, it moves around with me wherever I go (not to be too corny, but hey I'm corny). 🌽
This Steve Powers piece in Syracuse that reads "NOTHING TO DO IS EVERYTHING WITH YOU" has been a little bit of sunlight in the harder days of being here and grieving the life we had. I remember advice that my favorite teacher Mrs. Greene (hey, are you reading this?) told me when I shared that we were leaving our apartment in NYC. She said "The next step is the right one – it always is. Lean on Tommy and you'll make it through." 🥲 It's been hard to remember that there is no "right" answer, and whatever choice you make is going to be the right one, simply because it's the next one. And you get to make a million more choices after that if it doesn't feel right. Leaning on another person is hard for me but there is so much value in being able to leeeean. To trust each other and see what happens.
I taught a 6-week photojournalism class last month at a middle school & it was super cuuuute. It was hybrid online/in-person (which qualified me for the vaccine early) but was kind of stressful because I hadn't interacted with strangers or participated in a new community in a full year. It was a huge lesson in trusting myself, my gut, my instincts, and remembering that I'm capable and the things I know are always inside me even if they haven't been practiced lately. The photos on the left are from a disposable camera photo journal project we did
So... do you know what I mean about dreaming from a place of lack or magic loves a void? Is this all just abstract nonsense without any basis in reality?
⋰ If you'd like to read previous newsletters, they are archived here.
This newsletter was started in the Onondaga & Haudenosaunee + finished in the Munsee Lenape & Schaghticoke territory. To learn more about the stolen land you're occupying, visit native-land.ca ⋰
