This will be my tenth(!!) year in a row doing these, so you can also read about the years since 2015 if so desired. They are inspired by Tilde, who has taught me that it can be a Good Thing to remember what the last year has been like. Many of the headers in this post are based on my goals for 2024.
The word for this year was abundance. I struggled to bring this take to everything I do — I feel an immense amount of guilt around my privilege these days, and so while I still try to come at things from an abundance mindset, and bring abundance to others, I struggled to apply this across the board.
It seems like some want to be taking bubble baths waiting for the right thought to hit while they burn down our libraries.
I went to the theater recently on a date. I don’t get a lot of time away from everything, so it’s a rare treat that I get to have a date, and rarer still when we decide not just to stay in and roll around. So this was exciting! And it was thrown by a theater group I’ve enjoyed in the past. We arrived and lingered in the lobby with some folks I know, and made friends with some others. Everyone was wearing masks. It was nice. Then the time came, and we were all ushered into a space influenced by Burning Man. It was scrappy, it was cute, but it was not good art. Lights were set to rainbow demo mode, kind of vibe. We all got comfortable. And then we waited. We made more friends with some of the folks around us.
The MC then stood up and told us that the event was about sharing space together. That they had no idea what was going to happen, and that we were just going to see. Emergence! It’s a trend in organizing right now that I appreciate but have some qualms with. So they put on some meditation music and left the room. And then we sat there. In silence. For maybe 10 minutes. Now, I’m all about sharing silence with strangers. It’s one of my favorite things. But I had signed up for a theater event, and expectations hadn’t been set for how long we were doing this for or how things would end. Most folks in the room probably didn’t have a meditation practice and asking those folks to sit in silence for more than about 5 minutes is hard.
I finally held up my phone screen to my sweetie asking if he wanted to leave if this kept up. He agreed, I set a timer for 5 more minutes. The 5 minutes passed. Other folks exited. We did as well. I texted a friend who had stayed there later, to ask what had happened. They said they eventually brought out some art supplies for folks to use, but that not much had happened.
Can you imagine it? A group of relatively radical folks all in a room together, who will never again be just that group of people, with an entire evening set aside to experience something together. And instead that time was wasted. All that potential was wasted.
I’ve got the resources, so here’s how I live as honestly as I can in this late-stage-capitalism hellscape. Not a judgement on whatever setup works for you, just a nudge to see where you can be more in alignment with your goals and ethics.
Side projects – since always
Despite being employed in the private sector for 40+ hours a week, plus having a toddler and robust local organizing life, I have been dedicated to seeing meaningful side projects through. Right now, that’s working on getting a book about sex workers and kinksters fulfilled (do you know anyone who does fulfillment, btw??) shipped out, and working on a disaster response zine. I get a moment here and there to push them forward, and spend my Sunday mornings working on these. They are of and by my community, and I will do my part in logistics and some writing. I have always prided myself of being the person in the group of artists who gets rewards shipped, why would that change now?
No car – since 2008
While facilitated by living in the hearts of cities for most of that time, since 2021, I’ve lived in the suburbs. However, I think cars (and specifically, the lengths we go to for car infrastructure) are a big part of what have destroyed America and our local communities. I refuse to partake. Even having a child, I still refuse. We will take him to the ER in our cargo bike, thank you very much. Reed and I were even downed on my motorcycle when I was 9 weeks pregnant, and I hold to this: the problem is not me being outside the vehicle and prone to damage, it is the person operating a 2+ tonne murder machine while stressed and/or looking at their goddamn phone.
I have the luxury of a shuttle to/from work the 3 days I go in. But also, we picked where we were willing to live and work based on a setup availability like this. And yes, I sometimes take a Lyft or borrow a car from a neighbor. We still live in this (car-centric) world, after all. But I do make a conscious effort to not be in cars.
Eating less meat, and locally sourced food – this year
When Reed was able to go off keto, the first thing I asked was if we could eat less meat. He is now totally invested in researching the best places to get our eggs etc from, and has the space to go to the farmers’ markets. Truly, having extra income for local supplies and a house husband who hyper fixates on feeding the family good food is the absolute best and I’m mostly just along for the ride here. We even got a rice cooker and I can pull off a pretty good tofu stir fry! Pretty good for this protein-shake-consuming food-unit-optimizer!
Buying locally – since 2022
I hate Amazon, and also it’s so convenient. I still order from them sometimes. However, whenever possible, I try to buy locally, even when it’s a pain. I’ve found a local bike shop and a local book shop that I adore and am willing to suffer the inconvenience and slightly higher prices for. Plus, deep discussion whenever I go in about how our neighborhoods are doing and how to support each other! And, not making Bezos richer.
Non-main services – this year
I’ve been off Facebook since 2011, and left Twitter when Elon Musk took over. I’m on Mastodon, but frankly I’ve been getting way more into group chats on Signal, Slack, and Discord grown organically from people meeting each other in person. I miss the heydays of Twitter, but doomscrolling just got to to be too much. Although now I might have to re-join Facebook to deal with local politic stuff. Blah.
So other ground I’m trying to figure out here instead is search (using Kagi to great success) and a recent switch to Proton for mail (and calendar?). This has been some lifting to get things set up, but I have friends who are well acquainted with this setup and have been willing to help me through the process when I get stuck (despite very good documentation). We’ll see how far down this hole I go.
What’s next?
I’ll keep looking for ways to live honestly that I have capacity to support. Again, no judgement in any of this. We all have different constraints and goals. The only pressure here is to live intentionally. 💙
I want to get this down. I want to cherish each of these before things get gnarly again in January. I’ve created a very good routine for myself, and I want to celebrate it. I want to remember what Normal looked like, because I’m willing to fight for it. I’m willing to die on my goddamn porch for this and the neighborhood we’re a part of. I love the East Bay and the life I have here.
This is a boring post, but I lead a beautifully suburban life at this point, and I like that my life is boring.
Monday
I wake up around 6a and make myself some decaf quietly, with doors closed, so as not to wake up Reed. Holiday is under foot, North is cuddling Reed. Locke’s yellow light clock won’t indicate it’s ok to be out of bed until 7, at which point he plays quietly until the light turns green at 7:30. I check in on work to see what the week has in store, and knock out a few tasks to get things in order, and take the cats through their morning routine (play outside, scoop litterbox, feed). Between 7:30 and 8, I see Locke and Reed a bit while they do morning things, and I get myself in order for the work day.
At 8, I ride my bike for 15 minutes to the shuttle, hang out with my shuttle buddies in line, and then do email and Slack and meeting prep for the ~90 minute shuttle ride. I work for 5 hours with 1ish hour for lunch from Apple Park, focused on securing our users’ devices from state sponsored attacks and intimate partner surveillance alike. I take an hour away from my desk to pick up heavy things and set them down again gently. Then I spend 90 on the shuttle debriefing from meetings and doing focus work, ride my bike 15 minutes home, and then have dinner with Locke and Reed.
I read something relatively light in bed and fall asleep by 9p.
I was pregnant as an agender person, and it was hard, but it didn’t destroy me.
The tenses in this one are a doozy. I use “breast” in here a lot as I believe it’s already a gender-neutral term.
Before being pregnant, I was pretty ok with my body shape. My breasts were small enough to bind but also present enough to wear cute dresses in. My hips were present if I chose to accentuate them, but also disappeared in men’s style clothing.
I got misgendered my entire pregnancy by medical professionals. They even had my pronouns in their system! But calling people “mama” all day is a hard habit to break, and it happened all. the. time.
Willow about 7 months pregnant in front of a mirror, swollen
And also — my breasts grew 2 cup sizes. My hips expanded. Not as much as they might have if Locke had completed his damn pregnancy, but still. My fairly androgynous figure was gone. I couldn’t bind anymore. After pregnancy, it wasn’t just medical professionals that were seeing me as femme, based on my newly acquired hourglass figure. I was Uncomfortable. I was hiding in bland clothing. I couldn’t look at myself in a mirror. I shied away from sexy times. I was, and I mean this with all the dark humor in the world, “not feeling myself.”
I was going to have lunch with Pablo and Janot in two weeks.
I met Pablo through John Crowley, as a part of the Boston area humanitarian and disaster response gang. He was instantaneously one of my favorite people – intense, warm, and utterly fixated on making things Better. He had somehow landed a gig with the International Red Cross Red Crescent teaching about climate science and probability through game mechanics.
He taught me that I didn’t need to be so serious in my approaches. He taught me people are willing to be vulnerable if you provide them some scaffolding and simply ask them to dive in, assuring them that uncertainty is a part of all that we do and that not knowing how to play the game couldn’t prevent you from playing it.
He helped me, the anxious, risk-averse, hermit that I am, not only take risks, but ask others to do so as well, and to make the whole thing playful. Of COURSE you strike out sometimes, that’s how probability works. Of COURSE it’s not a reflection on your moral character when you strike out in a game or on a project, that just means you’re trying new things.
He died unexpectedly weekend before last. There are now nearly 500 of us in a wide-ranging international WhatsApp group trading stories of how he touched us and changed the world for the better.
As mentioned in this post back in April, I’ve been doing Ketamine Assisted Psychotherapy, or KAP. While it started as a way to address birthing parent trauma, it has rapidly turned into a powerful tool for me. My anxiety levels are way lower, I’m having difficult conversations at home and at work with more confidence, and I feel more engaged in life in general. You can even tell my how much more often I’m blogging that I’m feeling myself again. This is so effective for me that I wanted to share my setup as a person mostly invested in science, as the KAP practice tends to be quite woo.
So, I help produce an art and music campout that happens in California every summer. I’m on the People team (dealing with conflict, consent violations, etc) and am a general coordinator for the overall event. I’ve done this on and off for about 5 years of the 18 years it’s been running. And after this year, I have to say: are the straights and younguns ok? This entire entry is a subtweet to both straight people and young people who seem to think they can’t be in community with their exes.
The next one came up about one of my great loves, made manifest in a phase of my life. I have always loved the concept of liminal1 space. I first became aware of it as a concept at the Ann Arbor Film Festival2, spending 3 minutes with the audience watching a minute hand move from just after one marker to just before another on a watch face, the movement so slow it was imperceptible until they showed where it had started. The idea of being between things intrigued me. I cherished it when traveling constantly, always in airports and rarely anywhere at all. It was good to have a name for a space that can be so exhausting when I was between work, before I had realized that work didn’t need to be my identity.
When Reed and I started trying to get pregnant, I realized the roller coaster of waiting, then not knowing, and then of one moment of clarity followed by the same cycle every month might break me. Given how much Santa Perpetua and I had talked about liminal space in previous rounds, I figured it was time to go all-in on that topic.
