Musings I almost titled, “gourds are made for dancing.”
Hello!
Welcome to Threadings., the newsletter and podcast where we explore Black feminism, love studies, and other things keeping and collecting me. I am committed to posting more of the things I record for you all. I am committed to leaving my membership at Weenie Hut Jr.’s behind me and just giving you what I make.
I have this secret podcast called Letters to the Editor. I started it last August when my beautiful Chicago life was crashing like the rain I recorded this under. I spoke to my future self, who I hoped would be in a better space to keep and collect me than I was right then. Thunder beckons and moans and I roll a joint in synchronized time. It was the most blissful way to dissolve.
I found myself, newly 24 and soluble, recording myself wondering what it might be like to be more solid. To be something that reverberates when knocked around and hums her way back to themself. Something emptied out like a gourd and filled with good, primordial drinking waters.
Since last August, I’ve recorded… about a hundred of these. One hundred! I know!! I was faithful to myself in my private commitments, the ones I made and kept when no one was looking, and that was marvelous to me. They’re going to be for the Close Friends version of the podcast (read: the version where I give you more of my first drafts as an intimate thank you for helping me buy fresh farmer’s market bread). But this first one, this is for everyone. Thank you all for listening (and for rating, and commenting and emailing me. Your feedback makes my day. Thank you!!).
I have no transcript available for this episode, so here’s a list of themes I talk about and salient quotes:
From My Porch:
I’m gonna tell you what I want: I want a life that resonates with me. I don’t wanna feel out of place or out of touch or out of my own body or out of my mind. I have felt so out of my mind. I want a life that reverberates like a tuning fork— every time I get knocked by something, I just hum middle c and am back to myself. I want to live a life where if I am knocked by something, I can ground myself and other people with the noise I make. I want to hold onto goodness. I want a life that holds onto goodness and wellness and happiness well.
I have a habit (in my teenage years) of holding onto things that had died because they were once alive, and because I missed them, someone I love gave it to me, it’s still important to me.
You cannot hold onto dead things inside of you and expect happiness to want to stay around.
Am I a good steward of happiness? Certainly not with all these dead things I insist on holding onto. Happiness is a guest you invite over, not a permanent state of being. Would you want to stay in a rotting house?
If I am thinking about a life that reverberates, that means I have to be able to host things that make good noise.
If I want a life that reverberates, I have to be open to hosting good air and good space or I have to be filled solid with stuff that will hum together.
I have historically been good at hollowing myself out and having good space. It’s always easier for me to shape my desires than it is my discipline— the difference between honing myself so I only hold onto things that are good for me vs. shaping my will so that I reject things that are bad for me, even when I want them.
This worked for me when I was in high school and college because I had so little autonomy. It makes sense that hollowed out with good space to reverberate was my reverberation of choice. I didn’t have the building materials or the sovereignty to build myself how I pleased.
the task of that life (being like a washed out gourd, able to make a good and grounding sound) is constantly washing yourself out to make sure that you’re not holding onto dead things in your reverberating space. You have to empty yourself out constantly. I got to a point where there was so much death and dying in my life; I wasn’t sober enough; I was constantly off kilter; I desperately wanted to keep some things, even if they are dead; I was just plain exhausted. And sick of always wanting the “right” thing. What if I wanted the wrong thing? For once? For twice? For old times sake?
Okay so: the two ways that you have something bounce off of you— something come and knock you, when life comes and conks you (and it will)— if you get conked, how do you make good noise?
the first way is to be a washed out gourd. but that requires you to not be stagnant, it requires you to constantly expel things that don’t belong, and it requires you to never let anything rotting into your gourd
Gourds also thrive in creative space. Gourds are drums. Gourds are for dancing.
or, you can be something solid, like a tuning fork, so when it gets knocked it all hums together. So you can’t be full of things that don’t reverberate together; you have to be solid all the way through.
if I’m translating one mode of life to another (because I had to, because I wasn’t sober, because I was tired, because I was grieving and exhausted and out of time and energy)… when I forgave myself for those circumstances it became a lot easier to become solid.
The Conclusions:
When I think of myself less like someone who is made up of right and wrong decisions, and more as someone who forges on in their story, it becomes a lot easier to understand that right and wrong don’t do shit for me except distract me from the narrative.
I don’t think there’s a right answer between gourd and tuning fork. I think you might be called to different kinds of grounding sounds depending on where you are in life. Maybe one day I’ll meet the hybrid of myself and be in awe.
There is a difference in the discipline (the excellence) it takes to get out of a circumstance and the discipline it takes to create a life of excellence when it wouldn’t cost you anything to be mediocre.
I hope the work of your day passes through your hands with ease. I hope your peace is unconditional, despite it all.
Still thinking of Jordan Neely.
ismatu gwendolyn
Jazz of the episode:
Why, Buzzardman, Why? x Alabaster Plume
The Jordan River Song x Emahoy Tsege Mariam Gebru
Lena’s Song x The Sweet Enoughs
You Go To My Head x Billie Holiday
Exit x Sebastian Mikael
28 | i want a life that reverberates.