The two sensations that make me feel most alive are bittersweet pangs of nostalgia and the electric fizzle of walking into the unknown. The rituals of the holidays mixed with the fresh page of the new year manage to give me both, and somehow pull me in opposite enough directions that I snap into a very present NOW.
The other day I went to my friend’s house to pick up a desk chair she was giving to me. “Your chairs are uncomfortable for working,” she had recently informed me. I hadn’t realized, because a lot of things in my life were uncomfortable, and my chairs, which I have had for years, had not been where my attention fell.
So I’m writing to you now, with my ass reasonably cushioned, at an ergonomic angle to my keyboard, and I do feel an improvement. It made me realize that the reason I hadn’t ever done this before was because previously my “desk” was my dining room table, and my dining room table was the center of my heart and my life. And only now, 10 months into the pandemic, was I able to see that it had ceased to be my dining room table a long time ago, and I owed it to myself to finally treat it as such.
Also that day as I was pulling out of my friend’s driveway, her housemate pulled up alongside me and we discussed the possibility of making latkes outside this weekend. If we work out the logistics, it could be a way of both preserving the nostalgic holiday ritual and walking into the unknown. Just talking about it made me notice too, that the dining room table feeling was that: a feeling.
As winter has led me to turn inward and reflect, I’m starting to see that many of the pieces I need to build a better 2021 for myself are all here, they just need reimagining, rearranging. That’s also a process we’re going through at Autostraddle, and while we do that, we’re taking a break from this newsletter. So thank you, so very much for tuning in, we’ve loved writing to you like this. Please enjoy these hits — we picked warm, joyful ones just for you!
With snap, crackle and pop,