It’s been a while since I’ve sent a dispatch—gotten sparked by something and followed it through into a post. Only half-thoughts jammed into a notes app. There’s been no reason for my absence other than the fact that I struggle with consistency. Maybe it’s my fire sign, but it seems my flame always burns too hot too fast, and then it chokes. For the few of you who pay for this, I owe you my apologies for this lack of ROI. For all of you still here, Thanks.
Here are some things I’ve been pondering in my absence.
The Buffalo
I heard somewhere that Buffaloes hate water—all kinds of water, even rain. So much so that they figured out that when they see storm clouds in the distance, they need to run toward the storm; by running at the storm, they run straight through it, minimizing the amount of time, discomfort, and frustration they experience. Rain is inevitable, and running away from the storm only increases the time they're wet and worried. This is a beautiful metaphor for how we need to run toward our fears or the things that make us uncomfortable and face them head-on to get past them vs. running alongside them forever. I have to be more like the Buffalo.
The Trick to Becoming a Luckier Person
Luckily, I’ve rehabilitated my Instagram algorithm and landed on this golden nugget of information, “Lucky people have a large ‘Surface Area of Opportunity.’’’ WTF does that mean? Basically, to increase your luck factor, you should follow everything that pulls you and put yourself in spaces outside your routine. Take classes, try a new restaurant, walk in a new neighborhood, join a book club, follow the things that spark you (in a good way), and say yes. This resonated. I have noticed that the more you’re open to, the more opportunities you allow into your flow. When I did a “Year of Yes” in 2022, I said yes to everything anyone asked; this led to trying out a Comedy class, which opened up opportunities to be on some comedy stages and blessed me with new girlfriends I treasure. I took writing classes, expanding my network with a community of writers and artists who inspire and push me to tell stories and create. I like the idea of “expanding your surface area.” I’ll be on the lookout for the things that pull me, even those that have nothing to do with writing. Maybe those even more so.
Rollerskating is Fun AF
I always knew this. I skated every Tuesday afternoon from elementary through middle school. I’d go with my friend Rima and skate to Miami freestyle tracks like “Spring Love” and Diamond Girl.” I knew how to do cross-overs, spins, and skate backward. I was invincible. I was 12.
Now, three decades later, I made my return to the rink. It's not exactly like riding a bike. I guess the body does forget some things. Eventually, the muscle memory returned, but the tricks didn’t. Even though I was rusty, I loved being there. The smell of popcorn and carpet. The neon pink on the walls. The lockers have been digitized, but their room still smells like feet. It transported me to a time I loved. Even getting pulled to the ground by an errant skater didn’t stop me. I wore the bruises with pride. I hadn’t fallen. I’d been knocked down, but I got up again. You’re never gonna keep me down. I went again recently—zero clobbers, zero falls. Moral: you’re never too old to play with your inner child, so feed the wolf of whimsy more than your wolf of doubt. It’s worth it.
Hope Feels Nice
I went from crying in the shower at the thought of a Trump Presidency to joining a Cat Ladies for Kamala call in a span of 48 hours. Election season is brutal. I hate it. My nervous system hates it. I’m happy that Harris/Walz is a sane and competent ticket. I like seeing how much positive momentum it's gotten. I like the feeling that comes with a glimmer of hope that we aren’t headed for Gilead and that women’s rights will be preserved. Hope is not a strategy, but it sure feels nice.
The Piña Colada Song Isn’t Just About Cheating
Follow me here…
First, if you don’t know this song, yes, you do. You’ve heard it in a movie, a grocery store, a cabana by the beach. You’ve listened to it. But, if you still swear you haven’t, here’s the gist: A guy is tired of his lady. They’ve been together too long, so he puts out a personal column looking for a new lady with at least half a brain who likes the following things:
Piña Coladas
Getting caught in the rain
NOT going to Yoga
Making love at midnight in the Dunes on the Cape
These are his dealbreakers.
Well, it turns out someone answered his personal column. Can you guess who it was?? Yup, his own lovely lady that he had NO IDEA liked, Pina Coladas or getting caught in the rain, or making love in Dunes. She had also been looking for someone else who liked those very things. But how did they not know these things about each other?
And it dawned on me that the issue here is that they either a) NEVER PAID ATTENTION TO the little things that lit each other up in all those years or b) They stopped being curious about each other.
Because you mean to tell me you’ve been with someone SO LONG that you’re bored of them, but you never went on one beach vacation? One pool vacation? Ever went to a single island shack where one of them could’ve ordered a Piña Colada and said, “Mmmm, I love these!” And the other said, “That’s crazy, me too!” This never happened? Or did it, and neither of them logged it in their brain?
How are you with someone for so long that they become a “warn out recording of your favorite song,” yet you’ve never been in the rain together and realized you both love frolicking in it? Rain is inevitable, remember? Did one frolick and the other run to find shelter? When you got back in the car, did anyone say, “Damn I hate getting caught in the rain!” which shut the other one up forever?
How do you not know she doesn’t go to Yoga? Have you SEEN her in yoga pants holding a mat?! Making love in the Dunes, that’s on you, buddy. Did you initiate it? Did you ask?
I’ve heard this song at least 4,999 times, and it finally dawned on me that perhaps if they had been more aware of each other, been more curious, and more vocal, they could’ve avoided this whole mess.
It’s not about giving up and throwing the baby out with the bathwater. It’s about diving into your partner/friend/etc. and expanding your surface area of opportunities to connect. It’s about running towards the uncomfortable parts—dealing with them—and getting past them, like Buffalo.
Like the Buffalo, I don’t like getting caught in the rain, but I do love a frosty Piña Colada on vacation.
And now you know.
XO,
Me