- The show on Monday went really, really well; I’m pleased to say I’m proud of the performance I gave. I recorded the audio of my songs, but I’m still trying to decide if/when/how I want to put it up online. [Edit: I’ve put it up divided into tracks here.]
- It’s fascinating to me that I’ve reached a point where I can actually enjoy listening to recordings of myself singing. i hated my voice for so long…it made me so uncomfortable. Now, it sounds…well, it sounds more like me. Last week, I pulled up some old recordings of myself from the year before we moved to Chicago, and it was more than a little surreal hearing this voice that apparently used to come out of my throat but that sounded like a completely different person.
- I need to rotate which instruments I play more frequently. After almost a year of mostly playing my guitar, switching back to the tenor guitar or mandolin is more of a challenge than I’d like to admit.
- I’ve been super distracted lately. While I’ve been riding a bit of a high since Monday night, I’m still definitely in a place of lower energy overall. My brain feels pretty scattered, and I’m casting about for a bit of direction.
- In light of the general scatteredness, I’m really grateful for the structure I have in my schedule these days. I’m also wishing I had a bit more. How do you find the line between structure and overscheduling? I don’t seem to be very good at it.
Stage Fright
Between classes at the Old Town School of Folk Music and chasing our favorite musician friends around the Midwest, over the past couple of years, music has been an increasingly important part of my life.
Music has always been one of my favorite ways to center and ground myself. I played the piano as a kid, and when I was home alone I would pour my soul out into the keys. I got out of the habit (and I no longer play the piano as well as I used to), but I’m trying to pick up a guitar or mandolin more often than I have been, because there’s something unspeakably soothing about music.
I’m writing this Wednesday morning, feeling a bit nervous about starting a new songwriting class Wednesday evening, taught by a teacher I’ve never met (but who I’ve only heard good things about). I know the crowd in Steve Dawson‘s classes well enough that it’s rather less terrifying to step into them than it is to face a room full of unknown entities.
Even more than that, though, I’m getting increasingly nervous about next Monday.
Next Monday, I am getting up on a stage by myself and playing a full 25-minute set of original songs.
Up to this point, I have never played more than two songs at a stretch on stage, and that’s been limited exclusively to songwriting class recitals and open mics. This is seven songs, a whole new experience, and while I’m definitely exited, I’m also…well…pretty terrified.
I know that chances are once I get up there and start playing, I’ll be fine. And even if I’m not fine, I doubt anyone in attendance will be throwing produce at me. If I fumble my way through all seven songs, then at least I’ll have made it through all seven.
Getting up in front of people and singing and playing words and music that I wrote is not an easy thing for my introverted, socially anxious self. But it’s something I’ve wanted to try for a long time, and this particular sort of anxiety is one that I find I need to face and force myself through once in a while, or it becomes paralyzing. So, we’ll see how it goes.
Reflections and Resolutions, 2016 Edition
Well, folks, here we are at the end of 2015, and what can I say except…it’s been a year.
The past 12 months have held some of the hardest and best decisions I’ve ever made for the sake of my mental health. It’s been a year of purging in many areas of my life – from clothes and books and other belongings to toxic relationships – and while it hasn’t been easy, overall I’d say it’s been worth it. I’ve learned a lot about myself, about who I am and what I believe, about what works for me and what doesn’t. I’m exiting this year feeling better about myself, my space, and my relationships than I did entering it. Which, as it turns out, fulfills the loose goals I set for myself last year.
Some things, sadly, have not changed since I wrote that post last year. Police have continued to murder black people and suffer few – if any – consequences for it. Violence against trans women, particularly trans women of color, has continued to occur at alarming rates. It’s a frightening world we live in, and as a white dude, I have far fewer reasons to be frightened than most people. I am still learning how to use this new voice and new privilege for good, and I know I fall far short the majority of the time.
As I’m writing this post the day before New Year’s Eve, I’m formulating a little intention-setting ritual for ringing in the new year. At this point, it’s going to look something like this:
Supplies
- Tea lights (real candles, not the electronic ones)
- Tea light holders
- A toothpick or pocket knife
- Somewhat concrete goals for the year
- Matches or a lighter
Ritual
- On each tea light, use the toothpick or pocket knife to carve a word or symbol representing a goal for the new year.
- Place the tea lights in their holders.
- While lighting each candle, take a few moments to focus on what the manifestation of that goal will look like.
- Once all the candles are lit, spend a few minutes watching the flames in meditation/reflection.
- Let the candles provide the ambiance for the evening as they burn all the way down.
That’s it. Super simple, but still something a little special to mark the beginning of a new (re)commitment to a goal. (I’m still working out exactly what goals I’m going to set for the year…perhaps one of them should be, “learn to be more decisive!”)
I’m not sorry to see 2015 go, but I feel like we’re parting on mostly amicable terms. I’m looking forward to 2016 and all the promise that it holds!
Solstice Musings
Monday night was the winter solstice.
Monday morning was rainy, and I left the house without my usual Bag of Things; I shoved my Earthbound Oracle deck in my coat pocket on the way out the door on a whim, but otherwise was traveling unusually light. That evening, as I sat in a coffee shop trying to wake myself up before therapy, I pulled the deck out of my pocket. I pondered the darkness, and how I want so badly to love this time of year, but the lack of sunlight makes it so hard. I thought about endings and beginnings, about change. And as I thought, and as I wrestled with a lot of complex thoughts and feelings I still haven’t totally sorted yet, I shuffled and drew three cards.
Vision, Creativity, and Transformation.
Vision.
I’ve been feeling a bit…stuck lately. But I think the issue is less that I am stuck, and more than I am not moving as quickly as I want to. I have a vision of where I want myself to be in a year, and it’s going to take the better part of the year to get there. There is no way to fast-forward through it.
Creativity.
I started back in songwriting class in November, and have signed up for another class with a new teacher (who I’ve not met but have heard only good things about). I have, as always, about a dozen knitting projects in varying levels of completion around the apartment. This week I’m starting a small but incredibly rewarding freelance project that I’m really excited about.
Transformation.
The journey is never over. Identity is not static. My biggest frustrations come from transformation taking more time than I want it to…but the truth is that it is happening all the time, in a billion tiny ways I may not even recognize. I change my life and my life changes me and it’s messy and brilliant and terrifying all at once.
Vision, Creativity, and Transformation. My life is so full of these things. The visions may not always be the clearest, the creativity may not always be the most focused, and the transformation may not be the most obvious, but they’re all there. And they’ll continue to be there, carrying me through the dark months, reminding me of all the ways in which I am, truly, a very lucky man.
Winter Weirdness
I’ve always liked winter. The past two, in all their polar vortexiness, were a bit rough, I’ll admit, and snow is less enjoyable when I have to walk through so much of it on my commute. But as someone who’s always been on the warm-blooded side of things, I always welcome the cooler temperatures, and snow is pretty, and the lights and various holiday decorations often make me smile.
So the fact that it’s been in the 50s Fahrenheit and raining the past couple of weeks is kind of throwing me for a loop. This winter is promising to be much like our first in Chicago – more rain than snow and much, much warmer than a Midwestern winter has any business being.
And then…and then there’s Christmas.
Christmas was, for most of my life, my favorite holiday. The lights, the evergreen everything, the baking, the general feelings of good cheer…I’ve always loved it.
But as I’ve taken steps back from the Christian faith of my upbringing, the holiday no longer holds much personal religious significance. And I am super not into the commercialized business of an American Christmas.
So I’m finding myself feeling a little weird this season, and I think it’s more than the unseasonably warm weather that’s causing it. I’m still exchanging gifts with a handful of people, and I’m enjoying the holiday cards we’re finding in our mailbox. I’m still enjoying the lights, and the evergreens, and I hope to get a little baking done at some point. The good cheer, in light of the current state of things in the United States (bad politics, police violence, denial of climate change, etc.), is a little harder, but I am trying to find hope and to be a little more patient with people. I’m just…not really sure what the purpose of the festivities is. Maybe there doesn’t need to be one aside from looking for a little light in this dark time of year. It’s just a new and still-strange perspective, I guess.
Three Things
- Over the weekend, two of our favorite ladies from the Twin Cities came and stayed with us. We cooked a rather ridiculous amount of food. We went to Zoo Lights. We enjoyed hot cocoa with peppermint schnapps. And we spent a lot of time just hanging out. It was really wonderful. I am so incredibly grateful to have friends who are such lovely and charming houseguests of the sort who don’t leave me feeling particularly drained when they leave. My people are the best people.
- There’s so much going on in my brain that I feel like I don’t even know what half of it is anymore. I really, really need to be more consistent with taking time to meditate in the mornings. I’m also thinking I maybe need to start utilizing some meditative techniques outside of tarot – focusing more on breathing and on posture.
- Last week, without realizing it, I hit the two year anniversary of this blog. I’ve posted something damn near every Thursday for two whole years! Sure, a few posts went up late, and one or two maybe never went up at all, but on the whole, I’ve been consistent. I often feel like I don’t have a lot to say; I’m often scrambling to come up with something to write about on Wednesday evening. But it’s a good exercise, getting myself to write something each week, and something I feel like I can be at least a little proud of. Thanks for being along for the ride, folks!
Thinking
I’m doing a lot of thinking these days.
I mean, I do a lot of thinking all the time. It’s a big part of who I am. But lately, my brain’s feeling a little crowded.
I’m thinking about privilege, particularly all of the privilege I have always had as a white person, and more recently that I’ve acquired as a white man.
I am thinking that I need to use all of that privilege to more constructive ends.
I’m thinking about family, about the ones I chose who also chose me, and about how my feelings surrounding my choice to step back from my family or origin have evolved over the past several months. I’m thinking about my grandparents, two of whom are still living but all of whom I’ve lost. I’m thinking of my uncle, my father’s best friend, who had breakfast with me a couple of weeks ago and whose father passed away this week.
I am thinking that grief is complex and unpredictable.
I’m thinking about identity, and how I relate to my body, and how desperately I’ve been trying to ignore the growing presence of body-related dysphoria in my life. I’m thinking about how top surgery is still unscheduled and likely won’t happen for close to a year, and about how it will put me even further in debt but how I can’t even care about that anymore.
I am thinking that I am grateful that my identity as a man came after and was shaped by twenty-odd years of identity as a girl and as a woman.
I’m thinking about knitting, and how many projects I’ve managed to finish this year, about how most of them were very small but two of them were sweaters for me (though only one of those is wearable), and how that’s a lot for me.
I am thinking I want to knit all the sweaters.
I’m thinking about tarot and insight and intuition, and about how much I want to help people, and whether those two things should be more connected in my life. I’m thinking about burnout and spoon theory and whether my desire to help people should sometimes take a back seat to helping myself.
I am thinking about the value of selfishness.
I’m thinking about friends, about the ones that I’ve lost and the ones that I’ve gained and the ones that I’ve kept despite distance and regardless of the infrequency of contact. I’m thinking about an upcoming weekend of manicures and chick flicks and cooking and domesticity and some of my favorite people.
I am thinking that I am grateful for my newfound ability to appreciate my own femininity.
I’m thinking about books, and how I used to read all the time, and how over half the books I’ve read this year were books I’d read before. I’m thinking about stories and escape and education.
I am thinking I should prioritize making more time for books in my life.
I’m thinking so many things about myself and my home and my hobbies and the people in my life, and my brain is often feeling like a very crowded place. The fact that I’m entering into a manic phase is amplifying that feeling, and it’s a little overwhelming. But it’s also encouraging.
I am thinking, therefore I am growing.
When Gratitude is Not Enough
This post is going live on Thanksgiving.
I’ve gotta be honest, folks. The older I get and the more history I learn (and live), the less comfortable I am with this holiday.
I’m all for gratitude. But I am deeply uncomfortable with the way we gloss over the bloody history of white colonialism in the name of giving thanks.
I will not be thankful that I have little to fear from police, when police are murdering people who don’t look like me. I will not be thankful that my life is seen as more valuable because of the color of my skin. I will not be thankful that my position of privilege comes at the expense of other people’s lives.
I’ve struggled the past few weeks to not be overwhelmed by a feeling of helplessness in the face of so much darkness in the world (and particularly in the two places I think of as home), because if I allow that feeling to overwhelm me, it is so easy to become complacent.
I’m not sure where to go next, but there are people out in the world who are doing important work, so I am starting here, lending support to them in the most straightforward way that I can right this minute.
Donate to Black Lives Matter – Chicago
Donate to Black Lives Matter – Minneapolis
Looking for Light
I’ll be honest – I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say this week, and I’m still not totally sure that I’m saying what needs to be said, or that I’m saying what I am for the right reasons. But it is what it is.
I don’t often veer particularly political on this blog, but given recent events, it was really only a matter of time.
This seems to be one of those weeks that just feels so incredibly dark, not necessarily in my personal life, but in the world at large. People are being particularly horrible to each other, with notable examples in both states I have called home. I feel like every time I log into social media (which is where I get most of my news these days), there are more and more reasons to scream and feel really horrible about the state of humanity.
On the one hand, I don’t want to do anything to make light of the horrible things that are happening, and I think they deserve all the attention we can give them. On the other hand, I find myself looking around for reasons to believe that it’s not totally hopeless, because hopelessness is not a thing I can cope with right now.
It’s tempting to believe that the world is broken beyond repair. But you know, when I look into the darkness, that’s where I find the light.
I have friends protesting at the 4th precinct in Minneapolis (and supporting the protesters in innumerable ways), demanding #JusticeForJamar, facing arrest and police brutality as they stand up against corrupt power. I am so proud, and so in awe, of the incredible people I know, and I am well aware that I might not have that courage if I was in Minnesota right now. I know people who are facing off against incredible odds because they believe the world can be a better place, and they’re doing what needs to be done to make it so. Justice doesn’t come out of unjust situations on its own. It takes work to dismantle oppressive power structures, and I know people who are doing that work. They’re making me think about what concrete steps I can take to join them in that work. And they’re reminding me that as long as there are people willing and able to do the work, there’s a chance that the world won’t be such a horrible place forever.
A Tiny Blog for a Weird Week
This is going to be a short post this week, as I evidently have the cold that just keeps coming back, and spent the last day and a half home from work…with my partner, who also caught the cold. So it’s been a sleepy, sniffly, coughing mess at our house lately, and I feel like I’ve sort of lost track of what day it is.
On a brighter note, here’s a list of three things that have kept me smiling between coughing fits:
- I started listening to the Welcome to Night Vale podcast last week. I’m over halfway through the backlog of episodes already. It’s been exactly the sort of weird, dark humor that I’ve needed in the midst of some frustration with work and other life things.
- As annoying as being sick has been for both of us, it’s been nice to have some extra time to hang out with my partner during the week. Our weekday schedules tend to be packed on opposite days, so the bulk of our quality time together tends to be on the weekends.
- We just finished watching the season of the Great British Baking Show that’s on Netflix, and that was absolutely delightful. It’s a total departure from the cutthroat attitude of most American shows of that genre. We laughed, we cried, we got super attached to most of the bakers, and by about halfway through the season really just wanted everyone to win.
Accidental Fudge 