(please take a moment to appreciate peak Beatles cuteness)
Lately I’ve been doing some fun side stuff with an org that sounds like schmasa but I don’t think we’re allowed to talk about it so I’m not going to talk about it. I will however say that it’s made me think about my old self. The one who was always writing and thinking about space and couldn’t stop talking about space and would use every chance in a conversation to talk about the heat death or the odds of our existence or how goddamn nuts this all is. That old self.
I really missed her.
It’s not that I don’t think about that stuff now. I do all the time, low-key every day all day. But it's reminded me that I actually kinda know some things, and that I really love asking these questions. If anything, I love even more, not having any answers.
It’s made me come to terms with the fact that I’ve been avoiding myself and by that I mean, avoiding my writing. It’s the kind of avoidance that would ruin any relationship, where any sane healthy partner would just be sick of the stonewalling and walk out the door. But in this case it’s just me and my stupid brain.
It feels as though I’ve cut myself off from experiencing the fear and discomfort of writing, of sitting down and being lost and not knowing what to say. Oddly enough the sitting down and writing with no direction is usually how we find the path back, but I’ve also been avoiding that. I can sit in silence here in the apartment and scroll my phone or be outside with no music and walking, but the silence required to sit and think about the book or to hear the things I know want to be heard is something else. This is just avoidance. I’m just not sure why I’m doing it. I’ve never been afraid of writing before, but something about letting myself go there feels scarier than any love I’ve ever entered into or new city or first day of school. I’ve always thought of myself as someone who takes risks and in many cases that’s true, but the real risks, like this one, like the silence of the page and myself, I am defeated by that most days. I think maybe I’ve lost touch with my own voice, the curious and excited voice in my head, I got to know it so well, and then I stopped listening. And it doesn’t feel right. Life just doesn’t feel right without it.
Another option though, as I sit here trying to not be so hard on myself, is that I’m different. I’ve written here before about the last year and the chaos of 2023 and I’d be foolish not to think that it fundamentally changed me. It did. In fact I’m just at about the year mark of when everything went tits up. We’re taught to grieve losing people, losing homes, losing whole eras in life, but we don’t often talk about grieving ourselves. I have been so many women. Some I’ve hated and others I miss. My avoidance is probably just an unwillingness to get to know this current version. I think if I’m honest, I’m a little disappointed in her? Something my therapist would surely scold me for as my lack of self compassion is an ongoing topic. But perhaps that’s why I’ve avoided the sitting down and writing? And a big reason why I’m forcing myself to write these newsletters because the truth always comes out. Who needs truth serum when you’ve got a keyboard. Surely everyone is always in some stage of this, constantly getting to know ourselves again, learning to love that new version, to accept the things we maybe don’t like about that either. The new aging body, the new aging brain, the fact that this version really wants to sleep 10 hours a night and who has time for that.
But why disappointed? Maybe disappointed isn’t the right word. Maybe I’m just not what I expected. There were a lot of things I promised myself I’d have done by 40. I’d be fluent in French and Italian, I’d have finished my Italian citizenship, I’d have sold my first book, I’d be maybe in a relationship? Speaking both languages is still easier than that. It’s mostly about the work. About the expectations I had for myself and for my career which life is great at throwing back in our faces. My dad always says, never have expectations. It’s the most unrealistic advice but it’s also good advice. We are constantly readjusting to the reality of our lives and to how much we change. And learning to reconcile what we once expected of ourselves and what we want now, is also sometimes painful.
I know none of what I’m saying is new. We all avoid ourselves. Some spend entire lifetimes doing it and some spend a few months giving our laptops the side eye. A few months ago I got some complicating news regarding bookwork and my friend and mentor, Murray told me “write yourself out of this hole.” Simple words and at the time I was whining in my head “ I don’t wanna.” But, I do. It’s like digging a mine where you know if you keep digging you are guaranteed to find *something of value* but there are TK feet deep of mucky dirt and worms between you and that something and I’ve just not been in the mood to pick up the shovel.
Is this cowardly? Absolutely. I am being a coward and I know it. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about. In this world distracting ourselves is the easiest possible thing. I could easily watch reruns of Love Island UK until I rot but that will not give me the life I want and the life I want requires getting covered in dirt.
I’m not really sure why I’m sharing this or if any of it really makes sense. But if my middle age has taught me anything it’s that we all have overlapping struggles, we all want more for ourselves, we all have dreams, and we’re all afraid.
Related, I found this typed note in an old journal. It’s full of typos because I’m not an expert with the typewriter and names I’ve blotted out. But maybe for anyone else who needs permission to listen to yourself, here’s another piece of evidence for your file. And I guess maybe, here’s to listening, even if we’re afraid of what we find.
x
S
Sounds to me at least like you're starting to write your way out of it all. Keep going, I love your writing.
And I did love all of the space stuff.
Personal growth can come in many ways, including confronting, learning from, and letting go of the past. Sounds like what you may be in the middle of, only you know. I know when my mind - as empty as it may seem - starts to feel too busy, I use meditations by Jon Kabat-Zinn. You can download them from his site. He also has good books as well. Finally, I, too, like all your space teachings. Keep on keepin' on. Here Zinn's link https://jonkabat-zinn.com/