September 30, 2025

Missing the townsfolk outside my window

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Today is National Day for Truth and Reconciliation. I am going to wear orange and go to the woods. Today is a good day to read or re-read the National Centre for Truth and Reconciliation reports, donate to IRSS, and participate in mutual aid in your community.

Apropos of nothing, here are my reflections on being (mostly) off social media for four months:

• I miss my friends and acquaintances. The ones I don't keep in touch with on a regular basis. That's a strange, 21st-century kind of feeling, isn't it? Maybe the analogue version would be moving from a populous place to the countryside and missing seeing the townsfolk about their business outside your window.

• I really don't miss seeing what strangers are up to. The sheer volume of hobbies, routines, and systems I could adopt and apply to my own over-crowded 24-hour cycles is overwhelming to a brain (like mine) that only understands addition and not subtraction (thanks, ADHD).

• Somehow, I'm still on my phone a lot. I read newsletters, do the NYT Games, and Google things like "Grey’s Anatomy characters astrological signs". Before you even ask, Meredith is a Capricorn.

• I really enjoy not sharing photos of my life. I understand that it's a form of creative expression for some, but for me, taking pictures of my activities and posting them is only ever for maintaining the appearance of an interesting and fulfilling life. And guess what? That sucks!

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I have reached the stage of feeling a bit silly and naive for trying to "be an artist off social media". At some point, my internal champion stepped off their soapbox and slinked back from certainty, which has left me spinning around to tumbleweeds when I want to fall back on my convictions.

It's hard to try new things, that's just par for the course, right? It's the artist's job to experiment and commit to their fancies and whims, precisely because most people wouldn't.

I'm certainly not placing "the artist" upon any pedestal here; it's a somewhat degrading and burdensome role to have been assigned. (I'm referencing here the idea that we are all born with a set of aptitudes and inclinations that set us up to fulfill whatever role we were born into.) We're all just doing our jobs, and unfortunately for writers, musicians, and poets, "clocking in" requires exposing one's insides for all to see. Humiliating!

In this email from April, I wrote a bit about process and the importance of learning in public. It's not easy, but it's human. I love trying, failing, experimenting, and iterating! It makes me feel alive.

I spent most of my life in a tiny box, terribly afraid to say or do the wrong thing, while simultaneously being completely unsure what the wrong thing was. It's hell! No thanks. Let's all be uncertain together.