(apologies if you’re seeing this twice—the first one wasn’t a thread!)
Dear friends,
The internet is Too Much for me today. Perhaps it is for you too.
Today sees heat in Ottawa breaking into cool wind and clouds, and beyond my window are great green leaves rushing and rustling. I’m dreaming of how to touch more tender, growing things in this confined summer. I’m realizing that one of the reasons I love baking bread is the magic of dough ballooning with yeast, this sense of having fed something that will feed me.
And now I’m calm, the bees in my head have quieted a little, and maybe I will clean something.
What calms you, friends? What lengthens your breath, unlocks your shoulders, smooths the wrinkle in your brow?
My bees. You have to be calm when you are in their homes. I especially love this time of year when they are so busy gathering nectar that they forget to be angry that I am rummaging in their homes. (I am always careful and respectful) Walking my dog is another one.
Walking. As part of my fight with diabetes, I've been trying to walk 30 minutes a night. It gets me away from the rage toward the people running our country. I plug in my headphones, start my audiobook, and walk through the neighborhood. With Angie and I in perpetual lockdown - I've driven 20 miles in three months - it is the only time I leave the house on most days. I really miss it on rainy days.
A long bike ride usually never fails … but through this pandemical spring, I've somehow lost the ability to coax myself aboard. It's a very strange loss. I'm not sure whether I'm denying myself the bike, the exercise, or the fundamental right to feel calm.
But somehow, in the second half of April, I was seized by an urgent need to learn the bass guitar — and so I bought one, and have played it almost every day since, and it's the most soothing new instrument I've picked up in decades.
Today, baking pita leavened from sourdough culture given us by my brother in law, who got it from his GF, and back it goes 150 years and more to Elk, California. Beyond that? A mystery. The fogginess of its provenance speaks to me, the continuation of life over centuries and nurturing it alongside ourselves. It’s peaceful.
My cats. There is a vast amount of turbulence in the world, but I can give *them* a small bubble of prosperous calm, and work on expanding that bubble until it meets up with all the other ones that everyone else is creating, until the world is a better place.
Currently it’s watching a classically trained flautist called Heline react to videos of Jethro Tull. It’s very sweet and relaxing https://youtu.be/gKSrq_qjB_Y
Listening to my favorite music (which doesn't have to be calm music to make me feel calm). Writing, when I can get myself to focus. Reading novels, when they're particularly gripping! (Right now Fledgling by Octavia Butler.)
So there's this tumblr poet, by the name of Inkskinned. She writes these long freeverses: about queerness and mental illness, and the unadulterated capitalist hellscape of the world. But also about love and joy and beauty in the world. This's one of my recent favs: https://ridinkskinned.com/post/618209944763826176/today-my-discover-weekly-playlist-wants-me-only-to There's something deeply cathartic about seeing all these emotions, so closely mirroring my own, spilled with such frank honesty across the page. Just knowing I'm not alone, that there're other people brave enough to use words in creative fashion to shout both their despair and joy: this wide communal net we've created as our own kind of social media silk road; that uncurls my shoulders and makes me smile.
Gardening, for sure. Yesterday evening I dead-headed a lot of roses and irises. Very meditative and calming. Also reading, biking on the nearby creek trail, and landscape painting. I never really painted before and am on my second landscape now. I might not have tried it except for being home during this time. It changes my experience of time when I paint. My brain is quickly in a different mode where time is feels more fluid, less linear. To reference one of my favor authors Madeline L’Engle, I shift out of chronos time and into kairos time. It is a special kind of calm that I enjoy very much.
Yesterday I made 14 tiny ring dishes out of clay, and painted an additional 5 that had already been fired. I have been enjoying making tiny ceramics lately and I believe it is calming, although it might actually be more of a manic rush I get from crafting. It makes my life feel meaningful, anyway. The internet has also been too much for me lately, and I took twitter and instagram off my phone. Considering not putting them back for a long, long time.
Thank you for giving us that poem. Looks like I'm going down a Kaitlyn Boulding rabbit hole this weekend. (Well, after having spent ten minutes searching, it looks like there's not a lot publicly available, and I don't see a collection anywhere. If anyone has a secret trove of her work, let me know.)
I responded in the April 17th open thread (the "with gifts" post) about letters with my friend and the unique connection we shared over paper and our grandfathers. That's still doing a lot for my well-being. We take a week or two to craft our responses to each other. Being able to invest that kind of time and care into a conversation is the most freeing and relaxing thing.
Now that the weather is so nice where I live, I've also gone out for a few flights of my RC plane. On the last flight, the wind picked up and gently guided my plane into a tree branch that lovingly cradled it fifteen feet from the ground. When I finally got it down, the wing split in two. But that's part of RC flying, and the repair time at the bench is calming in its own right.
I hate how much I had to struggle to think of...any activities I engage in anymore that invite calm. Perhaps that is why my head is so constantly full of bees. I think the closest answer lies in movement, whether it's going on a walk to someplace quiet, swinging my sword around in the courtyard, or doing a bit of yoga. The first lets my mind wander (not always the greatest), the second two really help me turn inward to focus on my body's needs and skills. I was vocally anti-yoga for many many years (really, a lot of bees), but I've found it's been really helpful in centering and encouraging me to slow down.
I am lucky to be currently potted in the PNW. I am trying to develop a positive relationship with the local crows.
The thing that calms me are both adventure games and laughter. Currently, I am playing Mutazione, a game about gardening + a community of introverts. What is currently making me laugh is ProZD's + Manky's Let's Play of Paper Mario. It is just...the right level of ridiculous.
It is A Particular Day over here, and I am a plant person who does yearly themes and yearly words. My word this year was "unfurl," so what a joy to discover my purple shamrock just bloomed! I am watching these five beautiful blooms unfurl in real time, on This Day.
And my shoulders just went ahhhhh.
Thank you thank you again for this space filled with beauty.
Have to remind myself that turning off the internet is calming!
Making lists to document the to-dos (they feel like dragonflies).
Engaging in small things.
Lately I've been contemplating grace, and what it means to invite grace into our lives in a rage-filled world that seems determined to go down the toilet. And if that's a losing battle, how do we make it still worthwhile?
Me, I'm still gardening, even on deadline. I always have to remember not to neglect projects that I've started -- but the garden takes care of itself just enough that I can let it do its thing. It's still a joy to go out every morning and see what's grown overnight.
Calm for me has mostly flown off for a distant country, but my two year old who otherwise never stops has taken to, after his bath, as I finish drying him off, pulling me in for a hug that lasts a good 10 seconds, and it should be forever.
There have also been a few of those days lately where the air is just cool enough that standing in a patch of sunlight is perfection, and I can take a breath and feel like Treebeard on his little hill.
So I second the thanks for this thread. Turns out there’s some calm floating around even here.
The internet is too much for me too and I've stepped away to give myself some time to refill. I am drawing a lot. I've always liked drawing, but I never did it much once I became an adult, because it takes Time and Practice and every time I determined to put in the Time and Practice I let it fall by the wayside in favor of some other activity. But this pandemic, this anything-but-ordinary and world-changing 2020, has aligned the stars and I'm drawing every day. And lo and behold — Time and Practice yield results. I'm drawing all the princesses of Etheria and each one gets easier, quicker, more fluid. It's a supremely rewarding activity, and one that gives my brain some quiet time.
The tinydog has decided that what we really need, her and I, is for me to sit on the back step in the late afternoon with a book while she runs around the yard smelling things. We have a bumper crop of dragonflies this year, so the grass is thick with the tiny blue ones. On Tuesday she ran right up to peer at an arrowhead spiketail, and it hovered there unafraid, letting her look.
Games and writing and solitary spaces calm me. Happy noises, like door creaking. Cooking and the smell of delicious food. All things I'm desperately trying to maintain even as the world is on fire and my work is overwhelming. Thank you for this thread, for the reminder :).
I have to say, over the past 2 months -- I've been doing some Yoga every day. (First 90 days of Peloton.app are free...) And I have been finding it a wonderful respite for 30 minutes or more (or less) most days. There is something liberating about being told when to breathe. (And there is something mysterious about the language the instructors use in navigating the landscape of our bodies -- "find space in your ribs as your spin your inner left thigh to the ceiling...") I am not one for woo-woo, but moving, making time for oneself to breathe like a jedi. I am down with that, it appears.
- Dancing with others, even if it's over Zoom.
- Sitting in silence with others, likewise.
- Pausing for a meal with my family.
Maybe my bees need other people's bees to settle down with.
Thank you for sharing that poem. I've just shared it onward.
My bees. You have to be calm when you are in their homes. I especially love this time of year when they are so busy gathering nectar that they forget to be angry that I am rummaging in their homes. (I am always careful and respectful) Walking my dog is another one.
Walking. As part of my fight with diabetes, I've been trying to walk 30 minutes a night. It gets me away from the rage toward the people running our country. I plug in my headphones, start my audiobook, and walk through the neighborhood. With Angie and I in perpetual lockdown - I've driven 20 miles in three months - it is the only time I leave the house on most days. I really miss it on rainy days.
A cup of tea. Some music. Some sweet bread. And a cat.
A long bike ride usually never fails … but through this pandemical spring, I've somehow lost the ability to coax myself aboard. It's a very strange loss. I'm not sure whether I'm denying myself the bike, the exercise, or the fundamental right to feel calm.
But somehow, in the second half of April, I was seized by an urgent need to learn the bass guitar — and so I bought one, and have played it almost every day since, and it's the most soothing new instrument I've picked up in decades.
Today, baking pita leavened from sourdough culture given us by my brother in law, who got it from his GF, and back it goes 150 years and more to Elk, California. Beyond that? A mystery. The fogginess of its provenance speaks to me, the continuation of life over centuries and nurturing it alongside ourselves. It’s peaceful.
My cats. There is a vast amount of turbulence in the world, but I can give *them* a small bubble of prosperous calm, and work on expanding that bubble until it meets up with all the other ones that everyone else is creating, until the world is a better place.
Currently it’s watching a classically trained flautist called Heline react to videos of Jethro Tull. It’s very sweet and relaxing https://youtu.be/gKSrq_qjB_Y
Listening to my favorite music (which doesn't have to be calm music to make me feel calm). Writing, when I can get myself to focus. Reading novels, when they're particularly gripping! (Right now Fledgling by Octavia Butler.)
So there's this tumblr poet, by the name of Inkskinned. She writes these long freeverses: about queerness and mental illness, and the unadulterated capitalist hellscape of the world. But also about love and joy and beauty in the world. This's one of my recent favs: https://ridinkskinned.com/post/618209944763826176/today-my-discover-weekly-playlist-wants-me-only-to There's something deeply cathartic about seeing all these emotions, so closely mirroring my own, spilled with such frank honesty across the page. Just knowing I'm not alone, that there're other people brave enough to use words in creative fashion to shout both their despair and joy: this wide communal net we've created as our own kind of social media silk road; that uncurls my shoulders and makes me smile.
Gardening, for sure. Yesterday evening I dead-headed a lot of roses and irises. Very meditative and calming. Also reading, biking on the nearby creek trail, and landscape painting. I never really painted before and am on my second landscape now. I might not have tried it except for being home during this time. It changes my experience of time when I paint. My brain is quickly in a different mode where time is feels more fluid, less linear. To reference one of my favor authors Madeline L’Engle, I shift out of chronos time and into kairos time. It is a special kind of calm that I enjoy very much.
My god. What a poem.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing relaxes me these days.
That poem broke me and healed me at the same time.
Yesterday I made 14 tiny ring dishes out of clay, and painted an additional 5 that had already been fired. I have been enjoying making tiny ceramics lately and I believe it is calming, although it might actually be more of a manic rush I get from crafting. It makes my life feel meaningful, anyway. The internet has also been too much for me lately, and I took twitter and instagram off my phone. Considering not putting them back for a long, long time.
Thank you for giving us that poem. Looks like I'm going down a Kaitlyn Boulding rabbit hole this weekend. (Well, after having spent ten minutes searching, it looks like there's not a lot publicly available, and I don't see a collection anywhere. If anyone has a secret trove of her work, let me know.)
I responded in the April 17th open thread (the "with gifts" post) about letters with my friend and the unique connection we shared over paper and our grandfathers. That's still doing a lot for my well-being. We take a week or two to craft our responses to each other. Being able to invest that kind of time and care into a conversation is the most freeing and relaxing thing.
Now that the weather is so nice where I live, I've also gone out for a few flights of my RC plane. On the last flight, the wind picked up and gently guided my plane into a tree branch that lovingly cradled it fifteen feet from the ground. When I finally got it down, the wing split in two. But that's part of RC flying, and the repair time at the bench is calming in its own right.
Oooof, that poem.
I hate how much I had to struggle to think of...any activities I engage in anymore that invite calm. Perhaps that is why my head is so constantly full of bees. I think the closest answer lies in movement, whether it's going on a walk to someplace quiet, swinging my sword around in the courtyard, or doing a bit of yoga. The first lets my mind wander (not always the greatest), the second two really help me turn inward to focus on my body's needs and skills. I was vocally anti-yoga for many many years (really, a lot of bees), but I've found it's been really helpful in centering and encouraging me to slow down.
Thank you for the poem and the words. <3
I am lucky to be currently potted in the PNW. I am trying to develop a positive relationship with the local crows.
The thing that calms me are both adventure games and laughter. Currently, I am playing Mutazione, a game about gardening + a community of introverts. What is currently making me laugh is ProZD's + Manky's Let's Play of Paper Mario. It is just...the right level of ridiculous.
With care.
OMG AMAL you amazing psychic soul.
It is A Particular Day over here, and I am a plant person who does yearly themes and yearly words. My word this year was "unfurl," so what a joy to discover my purple shamrock just bloomed! I am watching these five beautiful blooms unfurl in real time, on This Day.
And my shoulders just went ahhhhh.
Thank you thank you again for this space filled with beauty.
Have to remind myself that turning off the internet is calming!
Making lists to document the to-dos (they feel like dragonflies).
Engaging in small things.
Lately I've been contemplating grace, and what it means to invite grace into our lives in a rage-filled world that seems determined to go down the toilet. And if that's a losing battle, how do we make it still worthwhile?
Wow, that poem.
Me, I'm still gardening, even on deadline. I always have to remember not to neglect projects that I've started -- but the garden takes care of itself just enough that I can let it do its thing. It's still a joy to go out every morning and see what's grown overnight.
Calm for me has mostly flown off for a distant country, but my two year old who otherwise never stops has taken to, after his bath, as I finish drying him off, pulling me in for a hug that lasts a good 10 seconds, and it should be forever.
There have also been a few of those days lately where the air is just cool enough that standing in a patch of sunlight is perfection, and I can take a breath and feel like Treebeard on his little hill.
So I second the thanks for this thread. Turns out there’s some calm floating around even here.
The internet is too much for me too and I've stepped away to give myself some time to refill. I am drawing a lot. I've always liked drawing, but I never did it much once I became an adult, because it takes Time and Practice and every time I determined to put in the Time and Practice I let it fall by the wayside in favor of some other activity. But this pandemic, this anything-but-ordinary and world-changing 2020, has aligned the stars and I'm drawing every day. And lo and behold — Time and Practice yield results. I'm drawing all the princesses of Etheria and each one gets easier, quicker, more fluid. It's a supremely rewarding activity, and one that gives my brain some quiet time.
And thank you for the poem.
The tinydog has decided that what we really need, her and I, is for me to sit on the back step in the late afternoon with a book while she runs around the yard smelling things. We have a bumper crop of dragonflies this year, so the grass is thick with the tiny blue ones. On Tuesday she ran right up to peer at an arrowhead spiketail, and it hovered there unafraid, letting her look.
Cooking. Doing Laundry. Cleaning. Writing cards and letters to people I love.
I love that poem!
Games and writing and solitary spaces calm me. Happy noises, like door creaking. Cooking and the smell of delicious food. All things I'm desperately trying to maintain even as the world is on fire and my work is overwhelming. Thank you for this thread, for the reminder :).
I have to say, over the past 2 months -- I've been doing some Yoga every day. (First 90 days of Peloton.app are free...) And I have been finding it a wonderful respite for 30 minutes or more (or less) most days. There is something liberating about being told when to breathe. (And there is something mysterious about the language the instructors use in navigating the landscape of our bodies -- "find space in your ribs as your spin your inner left thigh to the ceiling...") I am not one for woo-woo, but moving, making time for oneself to breathe like a jedi. I am down with that, it appears.