Weekend Reflection #2

by | Jan 17, 2021 | 2021, Weekend Reflections

What I Accomplished: I Built a Blanket Fort

Writing that heading, I realize it could sound like some kind of metaphor for re-discovering my inner child or something like that. But no, I really did build a blanket fort, and it’s awesome. Maybe it did bring out some of the kid in me, but those are the moments I love. If there’s anything I’ve learned from being stuck in lockdown, it’s that I gave up too much of myself before to expectations, and I won’t do it again. It’s better to wait out a pandemic in a fort you made yourself than trapped in a place you forced yourself to be.

What I’m Working Towards: A Writing Routine

Last week, I mentioned that my writing habit began here, with weekly updates, as a way to practice and refine my passion. But that practice has to go somewhere; for a time, I was able to publish a few posts a week, some updates, some impromptu, and an article or two. Unfortunately, I was never able to close in on a writing routine for myself. I didn’t have specific goals or an outline of what I wanted to publish when. It’s a big part of why I fell off the wagon for so long. In hindsight, then, I’m working to build up my writing stamina, and hopefully, soon, These weekly posts will give way to more. So, in the interest of setting goals, keep an eye out for some posts this upcoming week. Ideas are still floating around, but I’m looking forward to getting more on the page and out into the world.

What I’m Reading: Conspiracy by Ryan Holiday

To me, narrative non-fiction is one of the best forms of storytelling out there. Locked in by fact and history, the genre takes apart seemingly simple moments in life and reveals the complex, almost unbelievable tales of real-life if only you looked closer. And this story is no different. Some may remember gossip rumblings about wrestling superstar Hulk Hogan and a leaked sex tape a few years ago. If you paid attention any farther, you might remember Hogan’s lawsuit against media gossip giant Gawker for its release, earning him more than a hundred million dollars in damages. For most, that was the whole story. But in reality, that was the culmination of a decade long conspiracy, plotted in the shadows, to bankrupt Gawker and its owner Nick Denton. Who was behind it? Silicon Valley investor and billionaire Peter Thiel. Why? A personal slight and a vendetta against harmful media. Holiday explores the complexities, machinery, and personnel behind the conspiracy and how it all came to play out. Behind the story itself, Conspiracy shows the real influence of people in power and that the things we believe impossible can be committed behind closed doors.

A Quote I’m Thinking About:

“The intention must be crystal clear, straight and balanced.

Once the arrow has gone, it will not come back, so it is better to interrupt a shot, because the movements that led up to it were not sufficiently precise and correct, than to act carelessly, simply because the bow was fully drawn and the target was waiting”

The Archer by Paulo Coelho

Weekend Reflection #1

by | Jan 11, 2021 | 2021, Weekend Reflections

When I originally started this blog, I had no idea what to write, but I knew I needed to write something. My first posts were basic updates on my life, 3-5 simple little thoughts, and reflections. At first, they were just meant to help me get started, fill the page, and get used to hitting publish. But over time, those little updates, even if no one was reading them, became a deep-rooted source of self-awareness and fun. I reflected like this every week for most of 2019 and through the first months of 2020 until the pandemic. Now, with life moving forward, if not out, I wanted to return to that practice again and take the time to post openly here again. Feel free to keep up with my life here as well. Hopefully, you find some interest in my ramblings.

What I’m Confronting: An Outspoken Balance

For most of my life, I’ve remained incredibly tight-lipped about my political and social stances. I have the privilege to go through life without fear of policy or activism affecting my life in any way other than conceptually. And, like many in my position, I chose to remain quiet about them for a long time. It was not because I thought my views were wrong or even opposed to my peers, but because my privilege allowed my silence and breaking that exposed me and that privilege. I saw my ability to remain quiet, draw no attention as an asset, rather than the vice it more often is.

And yet, sitting alone in my apartment, watching the tremors of the pandemic, the Black Lives Matter movement, and the rising tide of insurrection through my place of quiet, the walls started to crumble. I started breaking out into internet fights with the delusions of the conservatives on my page. I doomscrolled through Twitter and scoffed with every passing post. Like a pendulum released, I swung, hard and fast, to the other extreme. Though I was now open to the world about my thoughts, supporting those I cared about, I had no control, no nuance. Now my privilege gave way to a weaponized ego. Trodding wherever I could without consideration. It’s taken time, but I’ve started to find balance. My thoughts and feelings have become more nuanced. I’ve come to resent the years I spent in silence. It’s not perfect, but I am learning when and what to speak up about and when to let others step forward. I come to understand that there is no neutrality in the issues that really matter.

What I’m Reading: The Midnight Library by Matt Haig

I’m not typically one for popular fiction, but Matt Haig’s The Midnight Library has me taken aback. The story centers on the approaching-middle-aged Nora, who has squandered every opportunity given to her out of “life-fright.” On the verge of her death, she finds herself in the titular Midnight Library, where every possible path of her life exists as a book she may experience by cracking the spine. Her life as a rockstar, an Olympic medalist, even a glaciologist is all there for her to experience, if only she had done things differently. Reading that description, it’s hard not to think the book is riddled with tropes. And yet, to my surprise, the book subverts them every time. Halfway through, and I have no idea where the story is headed. I have to admit, it has me hooked. Perhaps I ought to give more new fiction a chance.

P.S. I tend to read a lot, and not every book makes it into these weekly recommendations. If you are interested in my other reads and rec’s sign up for my newsletter, where I send out a monthly reading roundup.

A Quote I’m Stuck On:

“People learn, early in their lives, what is their reason for being. Maybe that’s why they give up so early, too.”

The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho
2020: A Reflection On What I Learned

2020: A Reflection On What I Learned

by | Jan 3, 2021 | 2019-2020, 2021, Weekend Reflections

I’m not one for new year’s resolutions; it’s never been for me. But, with 2020 passing me by, I would like to reflect on what happened, the pain and pleasure, of the last 12 months. The tempting thing to do is to sigh and tally off complaints, but in the interest of growth, I want to take time to look at a few things I’ve learned this year and what that means for next.

I lost. And I learned to live without

We all lost things in 2020, some more than others, some less. For me and many others, we lost possession of the futures we thought we had. Early in the year, my plan was staged out in front of me, graduate, spend the summer working, and come fall move to New York to officially start my sound design career. I could see the light at the end of the tunnel: the grand theater on the other side. All I had to do was get there. Then the pandemic hit, and when I reached the end of that tunnel, all that was left was a flickering ghost light and an empty house. The house electrician was laid off.

Suddenly I was in Boston for another year, hunting for something, anything, else, and asking, “what now?” The career that had always been in the palm of my hand snapped away like so many others, and I had to move on. It took time, months, for me to come to terms with what I’d lost. But I came to realize that it was never mine in the first place. No matter how sure it was, that future was never mine to claim—an allowance of possibility. With that realization came solace and growth. You can never lose what was never yours in the first place. And as much as we’d like to believe it, the future, no matter how sure, is never ours. It took time, but I learned to live without theater and without that future. Maybe it will come later, but for the moment, I’m content to see what I can do with my time as it is right now.

I rediscovered my individuality and my adventure

Without my career, a social life, or even a gym, I had to get a bit creative. The summer became an exploration of old passions: hours of video games, photography walks, even a good month of yoga. Despite its chilling loneliness at first, all of this free time gave me a lot of time to remember myself. It was my first true alone time in as long as I can remember, and it was exactly what I needed. I rediscovered myself and all the things that had been overshadowed by the twenty-something career grind.

Eventually, my old passions gave way to new ones. I quite obsessively took up running in April and ran my first (virtual) marathon just a week ago. In tandem, another year in Boston meant I could finally explore the city in a way I never had time to before. I fell in love with it all over again and, in the process, fell in love with adventure. Long morning runs turned into chartings of the Charles River. Photography walks became forrays into the nooks and crannies of the city. All of this now boils up inside me, ready to explore wherever I can. Even in the heart of my Semester in Spain, I wasn’t as adventurous as I am now. So much of who I am writing this I owe to what I dug up in the midst of turmoil. I take these with me out of 2020 and hopefully to a more fulfilling new year.

I learned what it means to be truly supported

Along with my new self, I also take a host of friends, family, and loved ones, new and old, into 2021 with me. Despite our isolation, so much of the last year was filled with endless support from those around me. The little families and communities I found in this pandemic can’t be overlooked. Without them, I couldn’t have made it through. Because of them, I learned what it really feels like to be supported.

New Friday night Shabbat dinners with the roommates became a welcome source of good conversation, warm challah, and learning. Creative zoom calls filled with laughter, shared art, and puppetry shows brought me back together with old friends. Even the impromptu adventures with a partner, or the quiet support of family thousands of miles away, felt like a wash of endless community. The day-to-day interaction may be lost or awkward, but it forced us to be intentional and unconditional with the way we show our love and friendship. More than anything else, this is what I hope to hold onto from 2020 and grow into this year or next, pandemic or not.

What comes next

Nothing changed between December 31st and New Years Day; it’s just a day after all. There is still a pandemic, and there is heaps of work to do in all forms, that’s for sure. Even still, change happened, at least in me, through 2020—and that’s worth reflecting on. Despite its challenges, I can only hope to make the best of what I learned this year and take my growth with me into the new year. No resolutions, but another chance at change and growth.

Weekend Reflection #45

by | Jun 28, 2020 | Uncategorized

What I’m excited for: New Opporunities

The wake of COVID-19 has completely changed my outlook for the next year I had planned to move states, start a new freelance life, and leave this one behind. Instead, I now have an opportunity to really take stock and work within the boundaries of our new normal. It’s intimidating having to shift every expectation I set up for myself, but further limitations mean new opportunities. Now I am looking forwards to living with friends, exploring my creativity in new ways, and having a chance at a life I never thought I would want.

Weekend Reflection #44

by | Jun 21, 2020 | 2019-2020, Weekend Reflections

What I’m Reading: Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates

One of the first books recommended to me on my path of anti-racist activism. The book takes the form of a letter from Coates to his then 15-year-old son. More poetry than prose, Coates walks his son through his life, confronting a kind of fear and identity that his now teenaged son sees in himself through the murder of Trayvon Martin. It’s beautiful and bleak. How could it not be? I can never claim to understand the experiences and lessons of this book, but even its short window into this world has deeply affected the way I confront my own role and privilege. Though just a step, this has become one of the more vital pieces of my anti-racist education.

What I’m Reconciling: My Expectations

The reality of the future has never been more evident than during this pandemic. That may sound odd or counter to the confusion we are all experiencing, but that’s just it. The future has always been this way, unpredictable and unwieldy. We only see it for what it has always been. Pre-pandemic, the future we thought we knew was just a function of our expectations. We saw the lives we were racing towards, opportunities and lifestyles waiting for us to grab them. The confusion we now feel is us reconciling those expectations with the truth that none of those things were ever sure. Now we must adjust. Rather than cling to a career or lifestyle, we need to prepare to be open to change. The passing on this pandemic is not a return to normalcy. What we have learned about the nature of the future continues to be real with or without a virus. So we must adjust our mindset to prepare and be comfortable with change in all its forms. Expectations and rooted passions can unhinge us from that reality if we are not careful. The danger of the future is not the future itself but in how we confront it. Better to take what we can with open arms then deny the truth of what comes next.