Welcome to our first weekly discussion thread! The goal is to meet here every Friday to say hi and check in on each other as a community. Some weeks will be art related, others will be about life stuff. We. Can. Do. Whatever. We. Want. Because no one is the boss of us.
It seems to me that we’re all barely hanging on to sanity. So, for this week’s discussion, I’m curious: What’s been bringing you the most comfort? A movie that you watch over and over, a TV show, books, music, art/craft projects, weighted blankets, a very specific kind of porn. Sky’s the limit. Go!
The thing that has brought me the most comfort in recent weeks has been Andrea Gibson’s new book of poetry. There is something about reminding myself to revel in small moments of presence and beauty. I’ve been forgetting about it more often than I care to admit in these last couple of wool-wrapped numbing years.
things that bring me comfort in what feels like week 832,645 of the pandemic: paper books, color (i am craving all the color), silence, diffusing orange and clove oil, candlelight.
my stopped by my son's house a few weeks ago and could see from the front window, his living room washed in candlelight. i wanted to run into the room. when i got there i was shocked to see that the candles (all tapers) were battery operated led candles. they looked (and felt) so real, so comforting, so compelling (to stop, to sit, to breathe).
i ordered a bunch, put them all over my house, and turned them on.
the next evening, i emerged from my office upstairs to find them all already lit. turns out they have an internal timer and go on each evening now at the same time i originally turned them on. it has become a beautiful routine...to witness the lighting of the candles as the outside world turns dark.
small rituals/routines like this are saving me these days.
Taking long hot showers to feel the water holding me, practicing noticing other micro moments where I experience brief pleasure amidst the sea of anxiety, burnout, depression, grief. Like the taste of a particular kind of raspberry jam, or holding a mug of tea, putting my hands on morning frost in the grass and watching it melt beneath my own warmth. Sunlight in my kids’ hair through a window. Co-existence of presence with all of the impossibilities.
Friday Thread: Your most comforting thing
One word. Gin.
The thing that has brought me the most comfort in recent weeks has been Andrea Gibson’s new book of poetry. There is something about reminding myself to revel in small moments of presence and beauty. I’ve been forgetting about it more often than I care to admit in these last couple of wool-wrapped numbing years.
things that bring me comfort in what feels like week 832,645 of the pandemic: paper books, color (i am craving all the color), silence, diffusing orange and clove oil, candlelight.
my stopped by my son's house a few weeks ago and could see from the front window, his living room washed in candlelight. i wanted to run into the room. when i got there i was shocked to see that the candles (all tapers) were battery operated led candles. they looked (and felt) so real, so comforting, so compelling (to stop, to sit, to breathe).
i ordered a bunch, put them all over my house, and turned them on.
the next evening, i emerged from my office upstairs to find them all already lit. turns out they have an internal timer and go on each evening now at the same time i originally turned them on. it has become a beautiful routine...to witness the lighting of the candles as the outside world turns dark.
small rituals/routines like this are saving me these days.
Taking long hot showers to feel the water holding me, practicing noticing other micro moments where I experience brief pleasure amidst the sea of anxiety, burnout, depression, grief. Like the taste of a particular kind of raspberry jam, or holding a mug of tea, putting my hands on morning frost in the grass and watching it melt beneath my own warmth. Sunlight in my kids’ hair through a window. Co-existence of presence with all of the impossibilities.