in march the earth remembers its own name

will we remember ours? on the platonic romances and animated tv shows getting me through

"became a j fan during your still processing days. happy to support your work. always rooting for u. " — An actual testimonial from a real-live paid subscriber (I just figured out how to see these!)

Hi from my couch, where I’ve spent the last week and a half convalescing after a surgery (more to say on that soon, or not, we’ll see!), marveling at the miraculous abilities of the body and the spaciousness of a brain fattened by sleep and no caffeine.

(It turns out that a lot of good can happen when you consistently go to bed before 10PM.)

Early spring is a great time to recover from anything — the world is also coming back online, albeit slowly. You can’t really see the signs of life yet, but you can trust it’s happening. Everything is bare, but humming with hidden promise.

A few days ago, I went for a walk by myself, a wholly unremarkable thing that I do often, but that day was a special occasion because I did not need any assistance. I put on my own damn shoes and a jacket and shuffle-walked down to my favorite bench and sat down right as the sun came out. I felt like Mary Oliver’s ass with my noticing: Chipper brown birds gossiping in a bush, the grim determination of cold-weather joggers, the outline of animal prints in hardening mud. “In March, the earth remembers its own name,” Oliver writes in her poem “worm moon.” That was true for me and my body, too.

But now that I’m not sleeping twelve+ hours a day, I’m thinking a lot about the support that got me through the last tennish days.

In early February, I moderated an event with the organizer Dean Spade to support his new book “Love in a Fucked Up World.” The text is ambitious and dexterous, helping readers identify and untangle the cultural narratives that shape how we think about love, specifically the myths that situate marriage and romantic relationships in a prized hierarchy above all else. As Dean puts it, many of us have become adept at critiquing and dismantling the societal norms and structures that don’t serve us, except when it comes to our interpersonal relationships. “Romance is not separate from from our politics of liberation and resistance,” he notes. We know we need each other — friendships are a better predictor for our longevity and happiness, more so than our careers, intelligence and education — but it can be hard to recognize that through the thick influence of consumer culture and materialism that places emphasis on status over all else. As a result, we often don’t know how to function when conflict arises. Avoidance, pettiness, abandonment are much easier than vulnerability, intimacy and accountability. “We need skills to be with each other in distress, just as much as we need skills to be with each other in delight,” Spade writes, powerfully.

After the talk, there were three (legible) notes in my book margins:

1. If we can’t stick together, we fall apart fast.

2. We need more systems of relationality and support [in moments of crisis] than simply raising money and sending it.

3. We are taught that institutions will empower us, but the fallacy of that is quickly revealing itself, right now.

Historically, I am someone who defaults to hyperindependence during difficult life moments. I would rather overpay to have something delivered than dare ask someone to bring it to me. Part of that is my own childhood conditioning — the mere thought of rejection used to be enough to turn me to dust — and the other part is recognizing that New York is such an unmanageable city, and knowing that everyone who lives here is chronically exhausted and overextended. It also doesn’t help that most of us are managing personal and political polycrises. And yet, I am also learning the power of porosity, of letting others in instead of keeping them out. Another way to say this is surrender. Trusting others to manage their own time and capacities. Knowing that “no” doesn’t mean “I don’t love you.” In recovery people often say that addiction is a disease of isolation, and I think about that each time I want to make myself smaller instead of taking up space. So, in anticipation of my procedure, I sent an email to a small handful of people to let them know what was happening and what was needed. Most importantly, I resolved not to judge what others had to offer as a reflection of them or me. And what happened next looked like pure love: The people in my life showed the fuck up.

(I thought about making a cute lil list of all the gorgeous ways, but it still feels sacred and precious, and I didn’t want to run to risk of minimizing or leaving anyone out. But let it be known that it was glorious, a real reflection of my values and ways I hope to care for the people in my life, too.)

There were still boundaries to set and miscommunications to navigate. But I kept returning to Dean’s text and reminding myself that this is real work, and one of the biggest lessons of my year, a year that is only going to get harder. We really are all we got, and learning to save ourselves starts with not abandoning each other.

May we all find new ways of relating to each other this year. Lord knows we need it.

~~~

azi, from scavenger’s rein. i’ve clearly been inside too long when i start thinking a cartoon is sexy. but she is, right?

I made an ambitious list of books and films to power through during my downtime, but of course, none of that happened. The only things I’ve been able to pay attention to are sci-fi-y thrillers.

First up, Paradise. A taut political thriller set in the aftermath of a cataclysmic climate event, starring James Marsden as a hot president and Sterling K. Brown as his hot bodyguard. Marsden is being manipulated by a group of conniving billionaires who are controlling the future of humanity. Sound familiar? Doreen was right; it’s pure manna for the moment. Episode 7 is one of the best hours of television I’ve seen in a long time, deftly layering emotion and tension during a pivotal flashback. “This is Us” heads will recognize familiar threads by writer Dan Fogelman.

I’ve also been watching Scavenger’s Rein, a surrealist and vibrant animated show about an interstellar ship that lands on a foreign planet filled with unusual fauna. The relationship between Azi, one of the stranded researchers and Levi, a robot helper, is incredibly moving as they realize what adapting to their reluctant new home will require.

Common Side Effects is another animated show, about a magical mushroom with powerful medicinal properties and the government officials who are trying to suppress all knowledge of it. I’m moving more slower with this one, but already captivated by the themes and art.

Oh and I’m totally enamored with my baby sibling Toshi’s new web series, We Kissed Once. “Broad City” x “Harlem” x “The L Word.” So proud of them.

Before I go, here are the best laughs I got during my quick dip into socials.

PS: I’m reading some new work at a Russian Bathhouse next week. It’s sold out, but I hear there’s room on the waitlist. Thanks, as always, for reading. Till so very soon.