let's talk about love

perching lines, no. 17

Hello gentle-people,

This past Saturday, myself and four others gathered for the very first Woven retreat and it was...EVERYTHING!

In conversations with friends afterwards, I reflected on some new dreams that are being woven because the presence of those who showed up to say "we need this work in the world" shifted something in me. Almost a years worth of reading and practicing new habits have shaped this work and it feels so good to know: My labor was not in vain.

I am still collecting feedback, but this one stuck out to me:

"The mini retreat was well thought out, engaging, and freeing. I feel in my body that I have participated in a retreat."

My deepest concern was having something online that was supposed to be contemplative, embodied and relational. A space away from social media to reflect on how it is shaping us and recalibrate from a space of deeper agency and care for ourselves and others while online. This one review that it felt like a retreat in an embodied way tells me I am on the right track.

There is a particular kind of hum that comes with doing something that feels sacred. Words fail to describe it.

I will be preparing for the next one. I am also open to hosting similar experiences for groups that want to dive into this work. I imagine, along with the spiritual/creative/embodied practices, also having the space to dive into some of the research that has grounded this work. I could see extending 3 hours into 3 days.

Sometimes in dreaming, I do what shopping while hungry might do—create more work for myself. So I am taking this dream at the pace of flourishing.

"at your leisure": moving at the pace of flourishing

A “perch” is a light rest. Much needed in a world where many of us have to learn how to catch a break while standing up. In these lighter posts, I will offer poems, questions, and connections for those brief moments of reprieve. [Explore more in this series.]

Let’s talk about love…

In particular, the love that is taking me away from essaying on here:

Long-form.

I have dreamed my way into several book ideas. They wait for me. They call to me at the edges of a newsletter post, when the banner appears that says “too long for email.” They wait for me in the few times I’ve tried to write on Threads in recent months—with a start and a stop and a start again and a stop again. They find friends with the other words that are trapped in my chest. Words that escape in a hum, one I am still getting to know.

honor the hummm

I feel free now, to release these words. I hope to share them with you soon. Look out for the words “book launch.”

I feel seasoned by the work that took root here—the work you helped tend to with your attention.

Thank you for feeding this confidence. Thank you for your part in growing this love.

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A poem to preview some news I will share later:

What I’m reading:

I have convinced (*counts*) like 5 people in my personal life to try The Artist’s Way¹ or return to it. I am on week 9 and I feel so UNBLOCKED. The outpouring I am experiencing has literally changed my life and yes, I feel like a cliche in this testimonial energy. But I don’t care. I told a friend this week that I would stand on the side of the road with a sign that says “try The Artist’s Way” if I wasn’t afraid of weird interactions with strangers. I decided to do the online version of that in this picture.

It was so cool to see insights from most of the books in this stack contribute to the formation of the first Woven retreat. I want to especially highlight Belong: Find Your People, Create Community, and Live a More Connected Life² by Radha Agrawal, which helped me reflect on how to intentionally shape interconnectedness. Expect quotes from these books in weeks to come and in the writing projects I am working on beyond this newsletter. For now here is a perching line from How to Do Nothing by Jenny Odell:

What does it mean to construct digital world while the actual world is crumbling before our eyes?

To read more on why this book is amazing, check out Rev. Mariama’s reflection on the book here:

Reflection Recommendation # 6 - How to Do Nothing

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Some words from a poet that grounded me and sent healing back to 2019-me and on:

In this Ocean Vuong interview I watched last week (shoutout to Kelsey Blackwell for the recommendation many moons ago), he said the most powerful thing I’ve ever heard about imposter syndrome. I had to transcribe it:

“And we're taught that what we feel as outsiders, to feel excluded from the center, and to have that feeling be authored by a larger systemic force, brought forth way before you existed, is now pathologized as your illness. How powerful language can be that it can gaslight you into thinking that you are ill for feeling exactly what they wanted you to feel. And so I think for me, I observed this idea of the imposter syndrome, and the more I work, the more I realize that what they've called imposter syndrome are some of my greatest strengths as a person, but also as an artist.

What is imposter syndrome but to enter a space with diligence, perspicaciousness, skepticism, and an awareness of those around you, but also a kind of necessary humility that you don't own it. The day I walk into a stage or a room or a classroom as if I own it, is the death of my imagination. I don't want that. Give it to me on a silver platter, that comfort, and I will reject it every time.”

Landing Tracks

Straight from the Lorde herself, The Questionnaire to Oneself:

1. What are the words you do not have yet? [Or, “for what do you not have words, yet?”]

2. What do you need to say? [List as many things as necessary]

3. “What are the tyrannies you swallow day by day and attempt to make your own, until you will sicken and die of them, still in silence?” [List as many as necessary today. Then write a new list tomorrow. And the day after.]

4. If we have been “socialized to respect fear more than our own needs for language and definition,” ask yourself: “What’s the worst that could happen to me if I tell this truth?” [So, answer this today. And every day.]

Adapted from “The Transformation of Silence into Language and Action,” collected in The Cancer Journals.

Join in the Tender Work

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