The stories we tell are the stories we live

join me live to release old stories and dream into new stories of liberation

Hello beloved friends

FRIENDSHIP

Catch me talking today at 12pm EST/9am PST

So I actually pre recorded today’s live!!! It will still stream on youtube and linkedin at the regular time, and it might even be playing as you read this email! Come check it out!!

You can watch all previous streams on my youtube

HAPPY SPRING EQUINOX

What’s possible in the spring is not always possible in the fall, and what’s possible in the fall is not always possible in the spring

I learned this lesson when I was 20 years old, living in the South as a non binary person before I knew what that even was. My gender identity, race, and body size exposed me to constant physical and emotional harassment when I went out in public, but I had very little context or understanding of trauma. I really just knew that life was hard, I was not like everyone else, and everything I wanted, that everyone else seemed to have, appeared impossibly out of reach for me, and I didn’t know why.

However, the rhythms of community, insight and despair, bike rides, and psychedelic journeying brought me to this conclusion

What’s possible in the spring is not always possible in the fall, and what’s possible in the fall is not always possible in the spring

I like thinking of spring and fall as physical movements, social movements, and arcs in storytelling, in addition to seasons.

From a hike up Paris Mountain I went on last fall

I am hopeful we will spring towards a free Palestine

I am hopeful we will see a rise in public awareness around the violence in Sudan, and that we will condemn the violence in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, and reduce our inefficient consumerist tendencies.

Sometimes life is like rolling a big boulder up a hill

it’s easy to give up hope, especially when the rock is so big you can’t see around it. You are just pushing, and hoping, and trusting that you are making progress, and over time you begin to forget about life before you were on the hill. You are just pushing, and it is exhausting

Sisyphus, pushing a boulder up a hill, depicted on an ancient vase dated to 350 BC in Southern Italy. Learn more here

The imagery I use to talk about rolling a boulder up a hill is of course inspired by my middle school literature class! Like most people, I am obsessed with a good story.

I first came across Sisyphus as a character in the story of Persephone.

A statue of Isis-Persephone from the temple of Egyptian Gods; Constructed in Crete approximately 150 Common Era

Do you remember Persephone? You know daughter to Demeter, Goddess of fertility, who was kidnapped by her paternal uncle, Hades, brought to the underworld and fed pomegranate seeds.

A vulci depection of persephone and Hades in 430 BCE

When she went missing, Persephone’s mother became incredibly sad, and this is why, according to myth, there is winter. It is representative of Demeter’s grief from Persephone being missing. When Demeter eventually finds Persephone in the underworld, she is able to bring her back to the world of the living, and according to the myth, spring marks Persephone’s return

However, because Persephone ate the pomegranate seeds she is bound to the underworld, and Hades strikes a deal with demeter, allowing Persephone to return to the living for half the year, but demanding that she be in the underworld with him for the other half of the year.

me, basically a chef in my own underworld// aka basement apartment

I’m often salty about how exposed I was to greek mythology in my public education, but did not get to enjoy ancient stories from other parts of the world, but I simultaneously love the stories, and in sourcing art for this newsletter, I feel an appreciation for how truly ancient these stories are.

Photo by Robert Anasch on Unsplash

I think it’s appropriate to uplift this story given that spring has sprung, and Persephone has left the underworld and rejoined us on earth.

A juicy snack plate from a recent co working session

I brought up Persephone because it was through her eyes that I first met Sisyphus, a man who was cursed to push a boulder up a hill each day, only for it to roll back down, and for him to push it up again.

It is only now, in writing this newsletter, that I am reading the story of Sisyphus. According to the myth, Sisyphus attempted to cheat death. First by ensnaring the God of Death in his own shackles, and then by telling Hades he was disrespected on earth. He was punished for his disrespect for this unending task.

Sisyphus painted by Giovanni Battista Langetti (c. 1635 – 1676)

The older I get, the more I relate to Sisyphus, and I see his punishment as a reflection of what it is to be human. We roll the rock up the hill. The rock rolls down, and we do it again.

it just feels so relatable.

modern collage, artisit unknown

All this to say, sometimes we spring, sometimes we fall. Both are valuable aspects of the rhythm in which we live life, both are valuable seasons, each with different energies.

We have to fall in order to spring; we have to spring in order to fall

one doesn’t get to exist without the other, they are complimentary, cooperative, co-enabling energies.

While we may have lived many springs before, it is impossible to know what this season will ignite in us, and what we might spring towards or into.

It is likely, that whatever comes next, will be a direct result of what we let die in the winter, and what we are seeding with our intentions and nourishing with our actions.

As I write, I keep thinking about the Arab Spring

Do you remember the Arab Spring?

I do, vaguely. According to wikipedia,

“The Arab Spring or the First Arab Spring was a series of anti-government protests, uprisings and armed rebellions that spread across much of the Arab world in the early 2010s. It began in Tunisia in response to corruption and economic stagnation.”

While my mind sputters on details, my body can easily recall how it felt to witness the Arab Spring. To recieve news of anti-government protests with dread and anticipation of violence, and then to watch the response, people surging to the streets, and then witnessing with awe, the dynamics shifting and the people winning.

I logically know the future is full of unpredictable possibility, but to watch something unpredictable happen at such a large scale that suberverted narratives of power really changed me forever.

I also remember being on the edge of my seat, like so many others, wondering what happens next after revolution? I remember reading about people coming together and talking in circles.

And then, I clearly remember the heart drop as hope gave way to chaos and the future of possibilities became defined as other dictators and governments grew more oppressive to prevent future springs of power, and many regions who went through revolution entered a state of civil war and turmoil.

I need to research more, I know that the past has many gifts for those of us trying to access the subversive, unexpected, limitless future.

I hope we let complacency die. I hope we let consumerism die. I hope we let extractive relationships die. I hope we let genocide die. I hope we let war die.

I hope we nourish peace, compassion, and presence. I hope we take action and stand up for what we believe in, and tell the people close to us when we think they are wrong. I hope we are brave and bold and take time to feel our bodies, and our grief, and to let our anger and rage and grief transform us from the inside out.

this guy is always showing me how to embody rage

THANK U FOR READING!!

love u guys. I might be live as you read this, so please hop over to youtube, LinkedIN or instagram and hang out with me!!