and yes to having a sense of humor...and to wanting the transitions between paragraphs that are imperfect because they follow the unorganized logic that happens in real time. The path from my brain to my mouth is not automated or perfect, and neither are ways I read or process ideas.
To be clear, I'm also terrified by all of this. But have found my best medicine is just...laughing a lot and doubling down on the secret dumb language I share with the people I love that only makes sense in that context—the inside jokes, the felt experiences, the shorthand I use because it speaks to this bigger feeling that surrounds it all.
Ah, thank you, Leigh—that's it exactly. Those little meanings and moments we find for ourselves with the people in our lives are such gold. I guess what I am groping toward here is something that is very much embodied in the work that you do—the valuing of process as its own good, the sense that all the in-between things, the weird stutter-steps and wrong turnings and frustrations and stray thoughts and funny happenstances matter, not just some notion of goal or outcome. That staying in touch with all of it that gives us (well, me!) access to the sense of the world's vastness and smallness, the what could be, not just what is.
i love your brain. SO MUCH.
and yes to having a sense of humor...and to wanting the transitions between paragraphs that are imperfect because they follow the unorganized logic that happens in real time. The path from my brain to my mouth is not automated or perfect, and neither are ways I read or process ideas.
To be clear, I'm also terrified by all of this. But have found my best medicine is just...laughing a lot and doubling down on the secret dumb language I share with the people I love that only makes sense in that context—the inside jokes, the felt experiences, the shorthand I use because it speaks to this bigger feeling that surrounds it all.
Ah, thank you, Leigh—that's it exactly. Those little meanings and moments we find for ourselves with the people in our lives are such gold. I guess what I am groping toward here is something that is very much embodied in the work that you do—the valuing of process as its own good, the sense that all the in-between things, the weird stutter-steps and wrong turnings and frustrations and stray thoughts and funny happenstances matter, not just some notion of goal or outcome. That staying in touch with all of it that gives us (well, me!) access to the sense of the world's vastness and smallness, the what could be, not just what is.