It is December and I am finally settling, again. I feel my foundation realigning into the clay wetlands of Chicago like my creaky, aging house. I grew up in old houses so I know this adjustment is part of the process. An expanding wall crack here, a stabilizing beam there. The ground is a dynamic part of the structure so I am grateful for my current footing.
Settling means I have the capacity to reflect and plan. I have been longing to write and share some words, but those two things have not been able to exist at the same time. I am learning my writer brain is very different from my business owner brain. My therapist brain is doing her own thing too. The newsletter writer wants to send a list of the most creative food ornaments on the market while the therapist is crafting meaningful metaphors to facilitate reflection. The two are in contrast while the writer is blocked with the expectations of perception detracting from the flow.
I hope this blast is a way to name those different needs, ideas, and goals and share something that makes sense for all of me. I am not consistent, predictable, and infallible so it makes sense that this newsletter is not those things either. I return to flexibility, coming back, and trying again.
When I notice myself stuck between rigid options, to do it or do nothing, I try to find space for a different path. Rather than white knuckle for an arbitrary expectation, is there room to start in a different way? I think this is why I like cooking with leftovers and pantry staples so much. It is a frequent reminder for this common conundrum—there is room between a trip to the store for specific ingredients and ordering delivery. And if that is true and works for me, can I practice that with writing and whatever a newsletter is supposed to be?
So with an empty plate, blank pages, and low word counts, let’s find a different way now. One that honors all I have learned about myself and this practice knowing this is an ongoing process that does not need a firm foundation to begin. For this particular creative rut, I found a balance in reading words that inspired me to write the type of stories and images I want to share. I am an avid reader which consistently feels accessible to me through seasons of difficult emotions and lived experiences. The following are a few favorites that excite me about what is possible.
Goodbye Again by Jonny Sun
I revisited this collection of essays and illustrations by Johnny Sun. He encapsulates the expansiveness and minutia of humanity through his reflections and I leave each page energized, affirmed, and in awe.
Thin Skin by Jenn Shapland
This collection of essays was loaned to me by a friend and with every page I have eagerly looked forward to a second reading and contemplated gifting a copy to everyone I love. Jenn Shapland eloquently pairs economic justice research and histories of harm with lived experiences crafting meaningful stories that exist within our current confines.
Pleasure Activism by adrienne marie brown
You know a life changing book when you see one and adrienne marie brown’s collection of essays, poems, and interviews from a variety of authors is just that. You’re in for pleasure as transformative justice and radical resistance and it feels damn good.
Until next time, I will continue to wear my many hats—timely for a chilly Chicago winter. I am a sometimes business owner, newsletter writer, essayist, therapist, home cook, creator, facilitator, and collaborator. Who knows which of those parts you will see next, but I remain eager to share.
For your reflection:
Who is already doing what you want to be doing? How can you learn from them and find flexibility in your expectations?
What parts of yourself or identities work together? When are they in contrast with one another?
What do you need to settle in seasons of reflection, gathering, and change?