hey, gingerbread house.

i don’t really care if you know my name

and i’m done feeling bad about not remembering yours

because the whole damn point of this heavy, hopeful life isn’t to be named, but known

how sick are you of rattling off roles + relationships in monotonous monotones, keeping tit-for-tat track of superficial stats that say little of who we all are beyond how well we manage to label ourselves?

feeling contained by the boxes you check off + the ones you stuff yourself into — aren’t you intro’d the eff out?

whether you’re networking or dating, meeting your partner’s friends or other parents for playdates at the park…

wouldn’t it be nice to get beyond the business card bio brags to some real, meaningful shit?

or if not meaningful, at least good for a laugh or a sigh or some other involuntary utterance or irrepressible exclamation

something that, like you, can no longer be contained

the other day i was at one of my favorite places to work away — a brewery bar that used to open early + serve coffee from a cart

they suspended coffee cart service about 9 months ago, but the owner lets me bring my own cuppa with me now —

and not having to hit the fruited milk-sugar sour ales i love at 10am, as you can imagine, does wonders for the quality of the work i go there to do

i think it’s so damn cool of him to extend that kindness to me

and you know what? i’m pretty sure he doesn’t even know my name

and you know what else? i love that he doesn’t even need to

once the time did chime beer o’clock that day, i was talking to one of the bartenders (he’d actually been the barista the last time or two i’d hit up the now-defunct coffee cart before it got shut down)

i’d been trying to think of his name, but all i managed to remember was that it was something really special. after five private guesses over the preceding couple of hours, i finally decided to ask

turns out, fifth time was the proverbial charm

shenandoah » galactic » epiphany » jupiter » saturn —his slow-release chuckle gave the impression that he was more tickled by my guesses than offended that i hadn’t straight away known

how freaking refreshing!

what a delightful revolution we could lead just by taking the pressure off of people to catalog names at the expense of creating connections —

if we stopped feeling shitty because they didn’t remember our name, and allowed ourselves to feel seen + known through the way they recognize our face, recall a shared moment, or hold onto something we say

what if it could be enough that they remember the distinct feeling of sharing space with you, being in community with you, being a part of some experience, obliquely together with you?

because here’s the thing, butterfly wing…

if the choices on the table for connection are deep yet fleeting on one hand or superficial but reliable on the other, i’ll take iris over “norm!” every time

which is to say, beyond wanting to go (à la 80s sitcom cheers) where everybody knows my name —

i really just want you to goo goo dolls know who i am

there’s another bartender who’s worked there for years who randomly happens to look like my father (who was ALSO a bartender back in the day)

i can’t ever remember his name + am certain he’s never clocked mine

but again, knowing names… it’s the most perfunctory sort of acquaintance

even with an oft-mistaken name like mine, actually knowing it doesn’t mean you know much else, and it doesn’t mean you give much of a shit

like simple facts in an information age, you can easily find names out when you need them. knowing them counts for next to nothing, really

gone are the days of getting by on memorizing shit to prove your smarts or worth — i wanna know what you can tell me without hitting up google or chat first…

what you know because you marvel at it, not because you’re trying to impress or perfect

i’d much rather you know ME than my name

and oh how i’d rather know you

if you wanna be known, you’ve got to be seen

if you wanna be seen, you’ve got to show up

but if you wanna be known well, you need to show up stripped of pretense + grounded in who you truly are

and though not necessary, it helps if you do it regularly

which is far easier to do when you consciously curate conditions for safety

we talk plenty about picking the people you pass time with on purpose, and weeding out the ones you deem for whatever reason unsafe…

tallying character sums of our innermost five + throwing down boundaries like bottle caps for anyone who dares to threaten our precious peace

in the quest to stay safe though, sometimes we conflate qualities that don’t actually balance

like longevity, or endurance

they aren’t the same as safety or security, though damn do we love to dote on relationships heavier in duration than those with a shorter expiration —

dubbing those who stick around as more safe than those who leave (or even just seem like they might)

as if an asshole who overstays is better than a gem who doesn’t stay long

but what if you tried seeking safety in spaces instead of longlasting relationships?

choosing the places you go by the way you feel when you’re there + the values embodied that you share…

fostering meaningful connection that you celebrate the same whether you have it for a decade or a day…

more concerned with the quality of your moments than with how long they’ll last…

i find it far sexier to connect dots than plot them, and i’d much rather spend my energy being love + witnessing beauty than quoting facts or keeping score

could you let yourself feast on resonance you can feel in your body, thrumming in your chest like the gentle hum + whirr of brew room machinery + the tinny bass thunk of the heat kicking in?

keeping time from the inside like the methodical up down of what i imagine must be beer cans getting filled + lowered, filled + lowered, filled + lowered

what if you let yourself belong without needing to hold or be held?

you might just find deeper identity in anonymity — beyond places where everyone knows your name to those where names don’t even matter

although the music plays low in the main room, in the bathroom it booms. the other day i got to hear hozier’s “someone new” in full bathroom acoustic magnificence:

i fall in love just a little ol’ little bit every day with someone new

the song is part anthem, part apology for escapism + temporary thrills

i grew up in a dive bar that was largely frequented by commercial fishermen, located as it was at the foot of the local wharf

(my highschool boyfriend’s fisherman father even remembered seeing me perched atop the heavily carved-into shellacked wooden bar in my baby seat way back when. cute, right? oh how that man was one of the best, may he rest)

the right bar has always had the power to feel like home to me, no matter how dysfunctional THAT might sound

and maybe finding all kinds of love easily + often isn’t as dysfunctional as THAT sounds, either

in fact, maybe it’s a superpower — to fall in love a little bit every day…

to allow yourself to fall in love with new people, new things — every damn day

the same thing that allows you to become smitten with a sunset could bring you human connection that moves + delights, too

what if you stopped valuing singularity over spark + longevity over depth by default?

what if you let YOURSELF fall easily + often?

no longer trying to self-protect with constancy that leaves you semi-safe but unseen, unknown, and utterly uninspired

i dare you to let it be deep + fleeting, or maybe even light + longterm — not needing to prove the validity of the relationship by the length of time it lasted

i dare you to meet the world where it’s at + let yourself be met there too

back when i was in high school, someone very dear to me called me fickle, and i remember being so very rocked + shocked

i’d always seen myself as reliably true blue. fickle felt like being called a liar AND a ho by someone you thought would always see you as an angel, or at least a really great kid no matter how old you got

but maybe the unconditional loyalty i didn’t seem to be performing for others was the price i paid to be most loyal to myself —

so i followed love hard + moved on when it did

because one thing about me, i’ll give you all my sunshine until you fumble it —

unabashedly all-in as long as the energy is active, the attention is nurtured, the spark sweetly sustained

after that though, even if i give us a few more tries at making a good play, if you don’t make it marvelous ima prolly soon peace out

and what’s so wrong with leaving when the love does, anyway?

isn’t it time we stopped putting martyrs on pedestals + glorifying the willful suffering of less-than-lovely treatment as a virtue to which good women + good eggs (and especially good women with good eggs) must aspire?

isn’t it time we took seriously the charge to cultivate the safety we crave by way of the behavior we do or don’t allow into the spaces we grace + the ones we carry within us?

because you can know my name all day long, but if you don’t hold it in your mouth with wonder, delight + care, i must insist you spit it the hell out

and if you inspire me to show up, i can’t wish it never happened just because one of us was quick to move on along our way

show me your ungooglables and i will show you mine

no matter how long we cross paths for, let’s make moments we’re not trying to escape

may you take me where my name is the least important thing about me

on this day where i was last working away, i didn’t realize they’d recently shifted opening by an hour, so i’d gotten there too early

in yet another act of kindness the owner let me in anyway, and i was able to enjoy the delicious stillness of a gathering space before it’s gotten gathered in for the day

one of my favorite things about it there is how light + bright it is — all sunlight refracting through windows + reflecting off high-ceilinged walls painted white and partially muraled in warming wisps of cream, plum + peach

it’s got a spacious floor plan you can breathe in, filled in with cozy couches + pillow-studded bench seats, peppered with low tables + high barstool seats in shades of oak + pine…

punctuated by industrial metal table legs + stool frames in chrome + steel, with grey-swirled ivory-colored marble bar + table tops cut + smoothed in slices more than slabs

*i didn't mention this, but they have the cutest xmas tree up for the holidays — it's decorated with empty cans of their beers!*

as i sat there in the comforting spacious stillness, i could hear the slow symphony of hums, thunks + whirs, could feel their song land in + inhabit my chest

when the time to open arrived + the lights flipped on, the brew room orchestra grew, and the resonance did too

that’s when i realized another reason i love it there so much

it’s the same reason i love to stand by sound system speakers at shows, why sometimes i just NEED to go drum bassbeats against my chest in rooms filled with others doing much the same

when the sound of music ricochets through my body, it amplifies the vibrancy i feel inside

more than a mötley crüe kickstart to my heart, the energetic resonance of certain timbres + tones traces the landscape of my heart against my chest

it grounds me in to right now and the miracle it is to be alive + IN life, connected, curious, game + awed

and it serves as a kind of nervous system regulator that i’ve come to rely on even when i don’t know i need it

how cool to realize this lowkey happens here, too —

gentle calming + regulation from background brewhouse sounds that proactively soothe anxiety before it even crops up

i used to think of peace as something only found in solitude, something deafening + bright

turns out it’s more about resonance + quiet belonging, found in connection + well-walled spaciousness —

it’s what happens when you release what can no longer be contained, and the world is made better by it

the peace is in the sharing + knowing, not the naming or escaping

and i’m done feeling bad about the peace you neither seek nor find

because i’m too busy living + loving mine

xxoo, cc

ps: if you fancy yourself a deft crafter of titles + have any ideas for what you would call this if it were published more formally, i’d be so interested in your thoughts!

BEHIND THE ENDEARMENT:

i wrote this email yesterday + scheduled it for this morning (it pairs much better with some slow sunday morning hot cup a caffeine than a saturday afternoon pandemonium iced coffee on the run, don't you think?)

last night i was happily headed to gingerbread night with the friendfam, and hopefully will have gotten my shit together enough to actually get a g-bread house kit so i can, for the first time, MAKE a gingerbread house at gingerbread house night!

side note... the day of this night last year was when i started developing symptoms of bells palsy, and today (sunday) is my one-year palsyversary

and i'm having all sorts of emotions arise around that

strongest of all? GRATITUDE at all the ways i've healed over the past year

though there's been a fair amount of remembering how shitty it was, too

which can be the most fertile seed for deep gratitude, when you let it

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