Image: Annie Konst
Embodied Citations
a series of thank you letters on the group project of becoming
(scroll down for letters)
I’ve been resting into the shelter of mutual aid and community, and away from the myth of self reliance. This shift in perspective has been nothing short of magic. I admit I have a need - an ally appears to meet it.
Observing my nephews expand themselves outside of the home, trying on the mannerisms and play making of their peers, I wonder how my younger self did the same. I wish I could right click myself and pull up the info section on how I was created, this version of me writing to you here and now. To whom do I owe a debt of thanks, and in what specific ways am I a product of everything I’ve interacted with?1
As an expression of gratitude to people and moments that have shaped me, I got the idea to write thank you letters to strangers, friends, old lovers, places, creatures. A few, below. More to come.
Inspired by:
My interest in the myth of individual success. How we can expand our definition of success to include becoming an expansive version of ourselves, in community with others.
My love for letters. Writing them, reading them, sending them, receiving them.
A convo I had with a friend who kept citing his aphorisms, or quips in convo. As in, he would respond back to my story with a really sexy one liner and then cite it. Paraphrased, I got that sentence from a friend’s story here’s the story. Oh man, do I have hearts for eyes? Friends are cute. Consider me influenced.
xx - H
Dear Random Woman Who Wheel Chaired Past Me in Portland,
When I was limping, post-surgery at 23. Limping, sometimes literally picking my other leg up with my arm and moving it forward. Going slow. Like, so slow. Slow for someone who loves to go fast. My face, sweat city, even though it was 55 degrees outside and slightly drizzling. "This fucking rain," I thought. I was angry. You passed by me and gave me this look like:
"I see you.
Yes, it’s hard.
Keep going."
I still tear up when I think about it,
H
Dear Anti-Lover,
I told you I wanted to move to New York.
You scoffed, laughed in my face -
“New York is dead.”
Five years later, allow me to report on the situation:
Not without its problems, but super not-dead.
New York, the most brutally real, nourishing, generative place I’ve ever been.
Thank you for your doubt - it was jet fuel.
(and for being so quotable - LOL, NY is dead)
In pettiness,
H
Dear Dog in the Elevator,
Your eyes! Excuse me sir, how did you come to get those 1000 year old eyes? You nuzzled your nose into my hand and stared up at me with what I can only describe as baseless love and adoration.
Thank you for this brief moment between floors 1 and 3, reminding me that love is simple. Devotion is conditional, love is not.
I hope I run into you again,
H
The Master and His Emissary, Iain McGilchrist, “every individual mind is a process of interaction with whatever it is that exists apart from ourselves according to it’s own private history.” (20)