🌕 In My Experience… Trusting the Process
it's a full moon in gemini 🌕
Listen to me read this essay:
Hi friends
It’s finally December, the abomination known as 2022 is almost over, many of us are extremely exhausted, and Merriam–Webster chose gaslighting as their word of the year. 😮💨
These are not quick little updates. In other words, this is a long one (but it's also my only newsletter this month… I'll be back in 2023!) Thank you for being here. How are you?
Me? I was seriously crying on the subway yesterday because I learned that I have yet another fracture from cancer + radiation + surgery (the absolute worst trio!!). I’m not currently in pain, I have no major restrictions (besides no power lifting), there’s literally nothing to be done about it, and still… ⛔👎🏾😒💩
These past 18 months have been unreal, 2022 will not let up with me until that m.f. ball falls on Times Square, and it felt like an oh-so-very-ordinary, extraordinary MTA moment: Black lady bawling on the A train amidst non–reactive witnesses. I love New York. Absolute best city in the world. ❤️🗽🍎
I’ve been thinking a lot about gaslighting. And about bypassing. My own, that is.
A couple of months ago, I was speaking to a friend when she mentioned that recently she was very emotionally upset and crying. I asked how her husband responded to it, and she said “Oh, he always welcomes my tears.” She didn’t notice my silence at the time, but I was stunned for a few beats. When we spoke again last week, I explained how, in that moment, I realized (for the billionth time) how deeply I deny myself the fullest expression of my emotions. This is very linked to how my sadness was continually shut down in childhood (my tears were not welcomed so I tried – mostly unsuccessfully – to repress them in order to be accepted/acceptable).* I am still learning to undo that conditioning, quit self–gaslighting, and stop spiritually–bypassing (hence, crying on the subway). Also, to cease seeking that welcome outside of myself first (hence, crying on the subway).
In addition to family conditioning (and growing up in this colonized, stilted psychosis that is modernity), for years I chose spiritual communities that privileged silence & stillness over wails & movement, intellect over intuition, transcendence over messiness. I no longer consider those pairs to be oppositional but, rather, points in a constellation of emotional & somatic expression.
Stillness nurtures my movement. My wails nourish the silence. Intuition feeds intellect. Messiness ≠ not awake…
In fact, I believe the denial of one depletes the efficacy of others. And, I've learned the hard way that, actually, stifling my expression can turn into leaky imbalances which then burst onto others. What's suppressed and not normalized becomes agitated and pathologized.
When I can’t be with the full spectrum of my own feelings, it’s nearly impossible for me to be there for others. I am embarrassed to admit what a bad witness I've been at times for the difficult emotions of friends. It's taken/taking me a lot of experience within relationships to welcome people’s pain (especially emotional) without deflection or denial. Presence takes intimate practice. Presence starts with me witnessing me.
In a beautiful piece, Jessica Dore of Tarot for Change had this to say about denial as the antithesis of witnessing and how it leads us to not trusting ourselves: “In an environment of denial, an individual may know something’s off but can’t find validation or is unsupported in interpreting events to corroborate what they know to be true. With time, they may start to believe it is they who are wrong, ought to be ashamed for their hard time adapting, or whose perception of things on the whole is untrustworthy.”
My mantra right now is trust my process (hence, crying on the subway).
AND my process is more than pain. Below is this lunation’s In My Experience… about learning to trust my creative process through collaging with the cosmos.
With love,
Sebene
* My friend Kate wrote a beautiful piece about patiently and tenderly being present for the strong emotions of her toddler daughter, and it's a master class on the healing power of mature witnessing.
Your collages are so interesting! Will you share a bit about how you got into making them and how they come into being?
Dear Trusting the Process
Thank you for the compliment and the question. I appreciate your interest because having witnesses to my expressions (whether crying on the train or sending these newsletters) does make me feel vulnerable. Also, my inner critics are so loud, it's hard to hear you.
It was a big deal (inside my brain) to begin sharing my collages. All my usual imposter–ish thoughts arose: not being good enough, people probably thinking they're stupid, not being a real artist, blah blah blah. [Related: see my last newsletter about not being a real writer. 🙄] I started making collages in the early aughts when everyone (and by that I mean O readers) got into vision boards. My best friend Peter and I began creating them every January to symbolize our aspirations for the year. That somehow grew into me throwing New Years Eve dinners where I cooked a meal and supplied guests with scissors and glue sticks, magazines and background paper, and made everyone present their collage at the end of the gathering (I am forever that facilitator!). At one of the final ones I hosted in my tiny one bedroom in Clinton Hill, total strangers spilled into the hallway snipping images and drinking wine. I've been making collages here and there ever since, even leading workshops for teens at a youth media org where I worked.
And thanks for asking about my process — it has evolved considerably and is connected to how I do everything these days… it's also extremely wacky (by that, I mean uniquely my own and not meant to be an example for yours unless you want it to be), but, if nothing else, I hope this inspires someone to lean into their creativity in whatever random or reasoned ways allow you to override the messages that it's not for you, it doesn't matter, it matters too much, or whatever bullshit is keeping you from making stuff, including les apps which I am earnestly trying to experience as not separate from anything else in this unbelievably unconscious (it. me.) world and, instead, view social media as a collective digital altar and enjoy tending to my eensy–itsy–teensy corner of it the way I aspire to honor and sacralize absolutely everyone/where/thing, but, man-oh-man, is it hard when I get sucked into my mindfuck vortex which starts feeding those very same disconnecting critical voices — I stay for the animal reels, adrienne maree brown's memes, and the astrology insights.
In My Experience… I consider collage-making (and writing) part of my spiritual practice which itself is a collage-like, ever evolving, emergent combination of multiple influences — when I can embrace all the elements as sacred, I am able to lean into a process (and life) that feels cosmically connected.
Sending these newsletters on the new and full moons is very celestially attuned ✨✨✨ yes. It's also a convenient system for providing myself consistent deadlines. If I could send these willy-nilly whenever I felt like it? Well, I've tried that. Works for others, but, no.
I do well with structure. Both for timing and for inspiration. And it all shifts and flows over weeks and months. I have no secret formula except a fluid focus on trying to do what feels good which right now is using the moons as a form.
Because these missives are tied to monthly lunations, I know in advance the astro–weather connected to each newsletter. I use Notion to plot out all the upcoming new and full moons. [Side note: one end of year task I have on my to do's is to create a list of all the lunations for 2023.] The sign of each moon gives me a few hints as to what might emerge (Gemini: communicative, mercurial, dichotomous). I acknowledge that new moons are generally about starting cycles and full moons signify culminations — often the two newsletters are linked in a progression (last newsletter about writing, this one about collaging). Also, full moons are when I respond to questions. I consider the eclipses and what those might elicit and make note of any other major transits that are happening.
Taking all this into consideration gives me a general idea of where the cosmos might be leading me/us. And I just leave it there in the back of my mind allowing all those details to manifest mysteriously with whatever arises for me in life (hence, crying on the subway).
Concurrently, I have a basket where I collect images for collages. The basket also contains my scissors, glue sticks, and other supplies. Periodically, I will listen to music or a podcast or sit in silence, go through piles of magazines, and tear out pictures that appeal to me. Alternately, I will cut images to prepare them for future pasting — I have a folder in the basket to hold these since some tend to be delicate once cut. I find this very contemplative and calming and definitely consider it a mindfulness practice.
Anywhere between two weeks and two days before the coming lunation, I begin the actual collage. I usually block out at least one hour for this though it can take less or much, much more time. Generally, I don't have a plan and try to release any analytical motivation. I may first light a candle and some incense, pull a few cards and play music, or I'll just begin to go through the images and see what speaks to me, allowing my senses and intuition to lead. Again, mindfulness. If I'm traveling or don't get to making a collage in time, I'll substitute a photo (and not beat myself up about it).
Today's collage came from a session I did Thanksgiving weekend with my sister, Finot, and my dear friend Rebecca, who is an incredible artist and has been a creative inspiration to me for 30+ years. She had recently taken a collage class at The Art Students League and shared some fantastic techniques with us (including using a black background, which I love!). I can't say much about how the collage came together except that the jewel tones and energy of the images matched my feelings. I used Rebecca's awesome old book about birds for the hummingbird photo. Also, it was cool to get feedback about certain images or placements real-time, and it's fun to collage with others and eat snacks and catch–up!
When I feel a collage is finished, I place it on my altar and let it “charge" until the lunation. Sometimes this is only for a day or two, sometimes for the entire interval of about two weeks. My altar is made up of various objects including symbols of the four elements, ancestral artifacts, my metta bowl filled with names, astrological talismans from Sphere & Sundry, and other meaningful sacred items. This is where you (and everyone) come in: when I remember, I try and intentionally charge everything I do — collages, meditations, writing, reading, work, dance, play — with an aspiration that I be of service in creating more connection, belonging, joy, love and freedom in this world.
As a final piece, I'll just say that my writing process is also collage-like in that I am using that Notion list as a place to drop ideas the way I drop images in my collage basket: random thoughts, links, memes, reminders (I'll also jot notes in my various journals, on post-its and in the Notes app on my phone which all might also make their way in). Often, the title of a newsletter will come to me first. Usually I begin writing in earnest one or two days before the lunation. And, as with the last newsletter, life circumstances can mean I sit down to write the day of – but even that's like finally placing long ago chosen images… the process has been cosmically–collaging all along. When I'm ready to write-write, I open Notion (I swear I'm not sponsored by them) and everything is there waiting for me to paste together. If I'm “on time," the newsletter arrives in your inbox exactly when the moon reaches it's peak expression.
Lastly for reals (this got long!): I don't want to make this all sound super consciously hyper–awake or something — although I do try and imbue things with consciousness, I am totally making shit up as I go along and constantly course–correcting my life & practice (same thing). Also, generally, I do my best creating in the morning – anywhere from dawn to 11am. After that, I'm on to more left brain tasks.
Wow! Thank you for letting me share all that! I hope you connect with this in a way that inspires your creative processes. It has been a process in itself to allow myself my own kooky way of doing things. I was speaking to Rebecca on the phone last night (while she cut images) and I marveled at the massive amount of permission I still require in order to simply lean into my own expressions – whether that's crying or collaging.
May we all fully welcome the constellations of all our creative expressions.
Thank you for sharing your process, your voice. All of it is super humanizing/affirming and inspiring. 🩵