interiority
what soothed, enlightened and moved me this Fall ~
Dear friend,
I have this picture of Maya Angelou on my altar that makes me smile every time I look at it. I love the gentle laugh pouring out of her mouth and her hands raised like an orchestra conductor. All the signs of domesticity—the head scarf, the plant, the curtain open against a sunlit window.
If there is an intention I have for the year to come, it’s to embody more of the energy in this photo: comfort and whimsy and aliveness.
The word “interiority” has been calling to me: to be with all that’s alive within ourselves, beyond the gaze of others. Domestic spaces are the contexts in which that interiority can overflow into tangible objects, sounds and smells. In this way home becomes an echo chamber. A place to incubate and encounter oneself. I’ve been craving extended periods of time in solitude for a while and Winter has offered the permission I’ve needed to slow down and be home.
Autumn started with a burst of new creation: writing about a favorite food spot, a bike crew I’ve ridden with, and a music fest in my neighborhood; finally publishing a little poem I’ve been seeking a home for; and sharing reflections on the roadtrip that brought me back to Chicago, renewed. Simultaneously, each month was a further off-ramp from the speed of summer. A chance to celebrate quiet victories and cherish the melancholy of changing seasons. As the Winter Solstice marks the year’s darkest day, I find myself consenting to the solitude of winter as a season for the sacred work of dreaming, resting, and gestating.
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Below, I’ve compiled some of the things I’ve been listening to, reading and watching in hopes that they might move you like they have me. If you would like to join the crew of folks offering a few dollars a month to support this tender writing practice (and to see all the gems I curate each season) please consider becoming a paid subscriber.