Dear ones,
It feels boring to tell you that things have been both difficult and beautiful lately, but the truth of the past couple weeks since I last wrote a note is this: there was a panic attack that led to the kind of hyperventilating that could throw out a back (it threw out my back); there were stress-related canker sores on my tongue and general GI distress. There were also blooming magnolias and the most joyful daffodils. There was the sterile and terrifyingly loud discomfort of my first MRI. There was the relief of spring break and two and a half days in a cabin where P and I rested and wrote and cooked; where we walked a mile and a half to an old bridge and river that felt like the best parts of childhood. There was a night at The Rhizome House where we gathered to honor three anarchists who died in Ukraine—one from Ireland, one from Cleveland, one from Russia—but all of them magically connected to our social center. There was the delight of my sex writing workshop*, which was such a fun and generative three hours of writerly community. There was Easter brunch with my sweet momma and the cute little basket she put together (a thing she’s done, adorably, every year of my life).
There was the return to school and the return of stress, and there was also the gratitude of being back in the classroom with my smart and thoughtful students. There was a tough couple’s therapy session, there were distressed messages from friends going through their own difficult and beautiful times. There were new bird sounds and americanos; there was exercise class and comfort television. There was that one night when dusk looked the way heaven must feel—something like sublime, but airier. There were kitten snuggles, and deep breaths, and existential wonderings. I cried a number of times: in the car when the engine wouldn’t start, on my couch with a cup of tea, reading Frances Cobain’s tribute to her dad on his death anniversary, in pigeon pose at the studio. Here we are, I heard some sturdy voice in my head say: here we are in this.
This weekend in Cleveland is bustling. We’re in the path of totality as the moon eclipses the sun, and I truly feel so lucky that I’ll get to see this. More, I imagine, on that to come.
For now, lists and links and recs. Lots of them this week! Enjoy. <3
love & solidarity,
raechel
*If you’re interested in the recorded version of Elemental Openings (the sex writing workshop), it’s on sale here for just $33!
Reading.
Fariha Róisín continues to put words to bearing witness to the genocide in Palestine, over 180 days in. Her latest is about Israel’s massacre at Al Shifa hospital.
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