🐌 Lingering and Unteathered

🐌 Lingering and Unteathered

I'm playing with something new - a two part-er. This week = Part 1, next week = Part 2.

Let's dive in...

I still have goodbye cards and picture magnets to give to the young children I was teaching when the pandemic arrived in our corner of the world. I designed and ordered picture magnets from Shutterstock or one of those other online printing systems, one for each of the children with whom I used to spend my days.

I didn't text back a person I was becoming friends with pre-pandemic. He texted me a few times and I have yet to text back. The last time he texted me was at least six months ago, if not more. We participated in a weekly movement class together. I loved dancing with him, he and I enjoyed playing with lifts and contact improvisation during our class. I was building friendships with other folks in this movement class too. It had become a steadfast weekly ritual of mine.

The program at which I was teaching the young children temporarily closed and then I was laid off when they re-opened. Some families and I stayed connected for a bit. The movement class stopped meeting in-person and then followed the tides of transitioning to the virtual world. I participated for awhile, loving the connection at first though over time, I chose not to continue.

Of course, I have my reasons and excuses for not following through and not continuing, some of which are valid and all of which feel true.

I could stay on the surface and say that connections fade, it's natural.

I could stay on the surface and put it on the others to re-connect with me if they want.

I could stay on the surface and be hard on myself for not following up and through.

I could stay on the surface and tell myself I've needed to give my energy to those who are closest to me.

I could stay on the surface. I could. That said, the surface level doesn't offer pathways to learn, process, heal, or change.

So I choose to navigate my way deeper into these untethered connections, waving in the coming-and-going-winds-of-the-pandemic-and-everything-else-that's-been-happening.

I pull my boots on and wrap myself in a quilt of curiosity with heaps of compassion bundled up and sewn into the squares. Lowering my head and stooping my back, I trudge down into the caves of all that's been lingering, all that's still in between life and death since March 2020.

⏳ You've reached the end of Part 1. Part 2 lands in your inbox Tues. 10/12

Curious about the what and why behind this newsletter? Read on!

These weekly essays arise out of a desire and need to reinvigorate our personal sense of agency by redefining the way we think about our sense of belonging with and in the world.

The evolving vision here is to hold space for humans who care for others (that's you... the "connective tissue" people*) to learn and care about co-creation and to express that care by intentionally integrating experiential and experimental co-creation into the many facets of life.

*some of the roles "connective tissue" people step into are caregiver, educator, grandparent, heart-centered leader, elder, coach, community garden organizer, therapist, dog walker, people-centered consultant, auntie, body worker, uncle, and oh so many others.

Back with part 2 next week 😊,


... and Ernest mid-salt-water-soaked-lips-lick ...

mostly black dog totally wet and sandy from head to toe with his tongue licking the tops of his lips. he sits on rocky beach with algae and a small piece of driftwood behind him at the water's edge.
first time at the beach in a long while. so fun and soon after, so tired.