"When I feel like nothing will change I remind myself of the soft, lulling tides that one day will shape everything they touch" - Tomas Moniz

the end-of-the-month post

Hi m’dears,

I was sick for a good proportion of the month of February. So was my kid, and my husband. A house full of sick people in a time of oligarchical bureaucratic coup. Boy oh boy. You know you need to lie down and rest but, weakened by illness, your resistance to anxiety falters and so part of your mind starts screaming at you that you need to get up and do something right this very minute! And by “you” of course, I mean “me.”

One of the main components of stopping this spin cycle of despair is, of course—we all know it—getting the hell off social media. Now, to be clear, I think excellent communities are forged online and young people in particular actually often do a great job at using it for good. But, politically speaking, at this particular moment, it’s not like we don’t know who runs social media companies. So it doesn’t seem entirely outside the realm of possibility that making us feel powerless and sad and panicked and despairing might, just might, be the actual point. So instead I’ve spent the last several weeks reading, and watching movies, and building increasingly architecturally accurate houses in the Sims (Mabel hooked me on this), and in my more alert moments plotting the meaningful actions I will take when I’m feeling better,

I’ve alluded to some of this in passing before, but decided to unpack it a bit here today, both for clarity and accountability for myself, and in case anyone else might find it helpful. Personally, I get frustrated with all the vague platitudes out there where people are always saying “get involved!” and “take action!” but like — what? What does that mean? What are you actually going to do? I really want to know, so I can maybe, like, copy it? So, here you go—

First, I want to focus the bulk of my attentions locally. I’ve read a lot of very smart people on mutual aid, helping your immediate communities, knowing your neighbors, and forming the webs of connection that will enable us to support one another in real, tangible ways going forward.

And, I want to align my activities with my own personality, skills, identity, and inclinations. This is where I’ve gone wrong in the past. Back in 2016, I tried to join up with a number of organizations doing various very worthy types of organizing that, while I admired them deeply, did not at all suit what I myself am good at or meant for. It took me a while, but I learned: the more you round-hole-square-peg yourself, the less likely you are to a sustain meaningful contribution. It’s not noble to suffer in this way, it’s wasting everyone’s time and effort, especially your own. Finding work you can enjoy and are good at is sustainable. That just makes sense.

Also, I want to go at a reasonable pace. Rather than running around feeling like I need to try and do all the things all at once (and then inevitably burning out). I want to set something up, do it for a couple of months until its routinized. Then start a next thing, do that for a couple of months. Then add a third thing. And so on. That’s my plan. As I mentioned last month, my first thing was starting to volunteer at City Hope Café, which I am loving. I’m about ready to add my second thing, and am looking at options for that now.

Things I am looking at for thing #2 (and beyond): getting involved with the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence; participating in local neighborhood trash clean-ups; something with the public library. I’m also still brainstorming more ideas.

But it’s not a zero sum game. Acting locally doesn’t mean ignoring the national stage. I signed up for the Associated Press’s AP Morning Wire daily newsletter for a simple, straightforward source of news (something I’ve been seeking for ages). I’m donating to the ACLU, Democracy Forward Foundation, and anyone else I can find who’s busy suing the pants off the current administration.

I’m also thinking about how this relates to this newsletter. You signed up for a newsletter about art, creativity, books, publishing, and my random musings about love and city life and the spirituality of the boring. But it can feel tone-deaf at best and irresponsible at worst to sit over here only talking about art shows and analog computer mice while Rome effectively burns. I think about this stuff all the time, these days, and I imagine you do too. So I’m thinking I’ll continue to weave in tips and insights about ways to make ourselves useful in the current climate, as I come across them. But—say it with me now—misery isn’t solidarity, and there will also be other, more hopeful, topics for this lead essay at the end of the month, don’t worry. I’m not going to start writing a completely dreary community service or political or activism newsletter. We need joy and uplift and art to sustain us. I just wasn’t in that headspace this month, frankly.

But, to that end, a few pleasurable things I did encounter—

Book

All Friends are Necessary by Tomas Moniz

My god. This book is so great. Especially if you are young Gen X or elder Millennial and have lived your adult life in San Francisco—or the Bay Area generally—and have hung around with arty, punk, or alternative people at all, you will see yourself, your friends, and your sense of place reflected so vividly here, but also with such quite, tender grace. But, for anyone at all, this is just a beautiful novel. Highly recommend.

Here is a quotation which will now live with me forever:

When I feel like nothing will change I remind myself to trust my friends, who love me. And I listen to my heart, it’s constant rhythm. I remind myself of the soft, lulling tides that one day will shape everything they touch.

Movies

These are the movies I watched. All were highly enjoyable. And, if by some odd chance, your taste runs down either of the same main tributaries as mine — 1. Quirky, thoughtful stories about women (The World According to Allee Willis, His Three Daughters), or 2. Charming dudes running around getting shot at (Poolman, Wolfs) then here are some fun things for you to watch the next time you’re sick in bed. Or, you know, just regular in bed.

Mix Tape

Have I ever mentioned that getting to make these playlists for you and me is of the little happy highlights of my month, each month? It’s such a joy to put it all together just so—the songs, the sequence, the cover art, the title—and then to get share it with you, and to listen to it a whole bunch myself when its brand new. But then, also to go back and listen to the older ones from previous months and years, as the mood strikes me. Some are on heavy rotation and become very familiar. But every now and then one slips between the cracks. For instance, I just rediscovered Desire Paths which I’m not sure I’ve listened to at all since crafting in in November 2023. It’s a banger. As is this new one. Here, for you:

xo

b

PS — bookshop.org links are affiliate links, thanks for bearing with me in late-stage capitalism.