Learnings is where I attempt to make sense of what I am doing, seeing, practicing throughout the month (among other verbs). It’s a place for all the ways I’m learning even when I don’t call it that.
January has felt tentative, like gentle steps into a tepid lake. There is something harsh about the way we go from collective, familial gathering at the end of the calendar year right away into self-focused resolutions and reassembling. So, I’ve been trying to stay sweet with myself.
Here is what has been capturing my attention and swirling around in my brain. Take what resonates and then delete this from your inbox!
Also, as I’m figuring out what I want this space to be, I made a mood board for the vibes. It came out warm and weird. Which feels right.
NOTICING
This month I found myself seeking new forms of community — especially in-person connections. I joined a dance class that is exploring a book (more on that below). Maybe fair to call it a dance book club? And turns out dancing in front of strangers is as vulnerable as you would expect. What I didn’t expect was the nearly instant kinship I felt for these humans. I’m noticing (again) that the more vulnerability — or call it courage, openness even, if you’re sick of the v-word — I bring the more quickly connection forms. Which makes me think of adrienne maree brown’s wisdom that we must “move at the speed of trust.” If you need an accelerant, I am pretty convinced mutual vulnerability is it.
Another community I joined at the very last minute was an online challenge to create more than we consume in January. To be totally honest, the point was to post every single day and I posted twice. But just the orientation towards consuming less shifted my relationship to the many life-consuming apps on my pocket computer. I’m noticing that the simple act of setting an intention influences me more than I sometimes realize.
And of course, I hosted the first event for Sonoran Sapphics this month. We gathered, gabbed, and giggled over collage making as a means for friend-making. (Inspired by a friend’s project in NY RecCreate Collective.) What I noticed here was the power of parallel play and how few spaces we have as adults to be silly and creative. I’m hoping to pursue more chances to play in February — I’ll report back.
LISTENING
I’m not usually an audiobook gal but I’m listening to See No Stranger: A Memoir and Manifesto of Revolutionary Love because many languages are used throughout the story and I wanted to hear their pronunciation. Also, this is the book for the dance class and I like the idea of moving around while I listen to further embody the lessons.
Two of the quotes so far that are clinging to my insides:
“You don't need to know people in order to grieve with them. You grieve with them in order to know them.” - Valerie Kaur
“We think of us as complex and multidimensional; we tend to think of them as simple and one-dimensional … In other words, who we see as one of us determines who we let inside our circle of care and concern.” - Valerie Kaur
Both of these ideas feel so poignant as we grieve and act in solidarity with the humans in Palestine.
REFLECTING
What if it’s not about changing who I am but instead learning who I am? And then working with what I learn. *I found this in my phone notes from 2022 and I’m also reflecting on why past me had to call me all the way out?
How can I play more?
What am I devoted to? How do I think about devotion?
ADMIRING
I didn’t plan to include this section and then an artist and teacher I admire shared their name with us. What a gift to witness someone’s becoming! How cool to have permission to evolve! I feel inspired by this and think you might too. I can’t wait to see what kinds of magic Cody brings into the world.
PRACTICING
After dance class and listening to the first ten chapters of See No Stranger, I find myself meeting my normal judgement with a reminder. “You are a part of me that I do not yet know.” It softens my critique and gives me enough distance to re-engage from a place of wonder. I find myself asking “I wonder what this person likes to eat for dinner?” or “I wonder what last made this person giggle?” and it genuinely helps me identify with their humanity. That thing we share.
“You are a part of me that I do not yet know.”
Do I still feel personally offended by poorly designed spaces? Yes. Am I practicing not placing blame on any one single human for that failing? Also yes.
And that’s a glimpse inside my brain in January. What do we think?
I guess it’s all learning. ;)