Month: January 2018

How do you write a good love letter? A good enough love letter? How do you talk about the practice of writing a love letter when you feel so disconnected from the kind of love that inspires love letters?

That’s the biggest thing, tonight. That’s the speed bump you slam into as if it were a wall, every time you come up to it.

You’ve been sick for months, you’ve been sad for months, and you’ve been stuck on this topic for months.

Coincidence? I think not.

But here’s a truth that runs slantwise to that not-a-coincidence – even in the middle of all this angst and stuckness, you have managed to write a love letter almost every Tuesday. Not write *about* love letters, but still, write a love letter.

You sit down and write, “Dear Tiffany, something something something, Love, me.”

Despite everything!

Despite the way you feel in your body right now.

Despite the way you wake up sad every morning right now.

Despite the way you lay down on your bed at least once every day and think “nope, I cannot” and then you get up and it turns out, you can (but maybe you should not? I don’t know).

Every week!

Anyway, you’re just kind of sad right now and your eyes are sawdusty dry and you’re feeling disconnected, but you’re also feeling proud of getting another resource pulled imperfectly together and shared, and events created, and a video recorded, and some time spent in giving and receiving care with people you love, and it’s very blendy. Good/bad, happy/sad, worried/confident-ish.

You’re doing a good job.

One of these Tuesdays, you’ll have that blog post ready and you’ll send it out to the email list and it’ll be great.

For now, just keep doing this little thing every week. It’s enough. You’re enough.

Love,
Me

#tenderyear #100loveletters #dailypractices

This afternoon, I wrote about swamps and resilience (the post is on my Patreon) rather than doing more of the work I need to catch up on. It was a loving and generous act, to let myself write in a non-productive way. To write what came instead of writing what was next on the list.

Today included both the panic hangover from yesterday and its own new panic attack this morning, and I felt angry and sad about that, but I am learning how to be loving even in these moments.

I was reminded that my body is doing its best, and trying to protect me. So often, I default to assuming the worst – that it’s punishing and betraying me. Charitable interpretation is an act of love.

Today included many small love letters, and I am proud of myself.

#tenderyear #100loveletters #dailypractices

And I have another project happening – taking all of the writing I generated in that first project, and including interviews and other people’s love letters, and writing a book. I even bought a domain for it.

I thought the magic today could be finally setting that site up, spending some time on the book, writing a really good love letter and intro to the project. Officially announce the 100 Love Letters book project on Love Letter Day 100 of the Tender Year. That’s so good! Magic for magic.

But it didn’t work out.

It was messy, all the thoughts. I’m so irritated with myself lately. Hard to write a love letter from there.

And I couldn’t get logged into the domain, so that didn’t work.

And I’ve been sick for so long, I’m days behind on work, so I didn’t really have time to work on the book. Which is the case every day, and also, what kind of pretentious wank do I think I am, to write a book. Fuck.

But this project – I show up for it.

In whatever way that I can, even when it’s not magic. Even on Day 100 when none of the magic is working.

So I got out some chalk pastels. Messy and unfamiliar as a medium.

And I used my favourite drawing paper.

And I drew a thing.

And I labeled it 100 with my messy finger. Messy is welcome. Messy is uncomfortable, but it is okay.

Good job, me.

#tenderyear #100loveletters #dailypractices

Go make some tea.

Love,
– Me

#tenderyear #100loveletters #dailypractices