*I want to start out this restful musing by saying thank you very much. Every intentional read. Every single time you’ve shared my words with someone else. Every precious second you’ve taken to sit with my work. Making a home for my words…it means everything to me. I started this substack to explore many ideas and themes that were important to me. Among them was infusing an ethic of softness into what people think of when they think of men. In my writing and in my thinking, I hope to point to another way for us to live and treat others. We can be different. I hope my work here allows others to think deeply and find ways to be more intentional about love and imagination. Thank you for joining me.*
I was talking to a number of friends over the past months about their dreams and desires. Regardless of whether I was communicating with them via text message or over the phone, I detected a common theme that each of these vastly different people shared; a heaviness as they sought to imagine how to achieve these things. As I inquired further, I noticed that all of them were thinking about “the work that their soul must have” (Katie Cannon) alone. How lonely it is to have to live life by yourself. I know I made a video about this on Friday but have wanted to lean into the myth of independence a bit more.
Nobody has accomplished anything meaningful without the help of others. It simply isn’t possible. We were all brought into this world without our consent. We didn’t choose to be here. And so…something at an early age tells us that it is time to get to work. It is time to strategize and materialize the life that we want. The American Dream comes as someone who seduces and spins us a web of lies. Instead of turning to others, and the web of our communities…we turn inward. This inward turning impacts especially those who are marginalized and multiply marginalized. There is a loneliness and a heaviness that accompanies independence.
I have been wondering how freeing it would be if the things that I hold most sacred, the dreams that fill my soul, were not just my concerns, but also made a home in the bosom of those who love me.
We need community not just for achieving of course. We need it for the enjoying. That part. We need it for feeling less lonely in this life. We need it as we divest from a society that pushes us towards resilience and independence. I want to dream and love with people in an increasing way forever. Anyways, as this week starts to unfold, and as you feel your shoulders tense for trying harder…perhaps there is a softer way. Perhaps there is a way those you love can share in the journey with you. Maybe this week you can notice and take step towards thinking that you need to do this alone. (I must make a note here that many ARE alone in their geographic location. This whole post isn’t mean to gaslight you or tell you to pull yourselves up by your bootstraps. Throughout the past few years I found myself there and had to utilize a lot of digital ways to connect to others.)
embodied practice: identify a few areas of your life that you truly know that you haven’t been handling well. Consider reaching out to loved ones for their ideas and support.
It is still Black History Month so I wanted to give you a stack of some of my favorite Black poetry books:
*If this post has been helpful to you in some way, please consider sharing it.*
The sinking, lonely, myth of independence
This has been on my mind so much lately. I’ve been rereading Devon Price’s book about adult-diagnosed autistics, and he said something that hit me really hard, that independence is such a highly valued trait in our society that autistic people feel ashamed to reach out for help navigating a neurotypical-focused world, but that actually no one is independent and we shouldn’t have to be. We all need each other.
“I want to dream and love with people in an increasing way forever.” That right there. 🥺 (also I need that June Jordan book and MHN’s new book drops this weeeeeeeek)