to be sorted later #20
in which 'as usual nothing's as it seems' & it's about time I told you how great my acupuncturist is
“Anything fun happen?” my acupuncturist asks when she comes back to take out the needles. Let’s see. Fun … fun … anything fun …
I’d been staring at the ceiling, my thoughts racing, forcing myself to take deep inhales and exhales for the previous 30 minutes. “Not sure about fun,” I tell her, “but I did feel a couple of electric … jolts? in a few places.”
She asks me where, and when I tell her, assures me this is good: “We’re getting things moving.”
Okay, sounds great. I trust this, because I trust her. Here’s one recent reason why:
A couple of weeks ago, I came in to my appointment, feeling really run down, my emotions raw. Next thing I knew as she was taking my pulse, I was fighting back tears, telling her I wished I wasn’t so sensitive. She let go of my wrist and looked at me.
“Do you believe that?” she asked me. “Do you believe you’re too sensitive?”
I was floored. No one’s ever asked me if I believed this. And I hadn’t realized that until she did.
Of course I believe I am too sensitive! Look at me right now, crying at acupuncture!
So I nodded. She took my wrist back in her hand, shook her head, looked me right in the eyes, and told me something else new: “I don’t see that. I see your humanity. I see someone who cares deeply.”
She told me to notice what I was wearing — “I think it’s telling you something.”
I happened to be wearing my red Ivy Heart sweatsuit, paired with my “You are beautiful” socks.
Well, damn.
After all the needles were in, she put a tissue in my right hand and then squeezed it. And then she told me something else I can’t stop thinking about.
“It makes sense to be emotional. You’ve been telling yourself a story about yourself for decades that doesn’t make you feel good. Maybe it’s time to let that go.”
She said that when I find myself thinking, “I’m too sensitive,” to replace it with, “I have humanity.”
I have humanity, I have humanity, I have humanity …
Sort through that!
When I’m not crying at acupuncture, what the hell am I even doing?
What I’m Sorting Through, Currently …
“to be sorted later” is a series in which I attempt to have fun on the internet again, namely, by sharing the latest things I am watching, reading, listening to, hating, loving, discovering, and otherwise sorting through in any particular week or season. Enjoy! Or don’t!
So Long, Marianne [Faithfull]
In yet another reminder that all the news is [still] bad … the singer and actress Marianne Faithfull died today. Now of course this is a time to listen to “As Tears Go By” and I’m probably going to use this as reason to rewatch “Marie Antoinette” and I’ve already re-listened to her reading “Ozymandias”— but I’ll simply share this one for now.
“Born to live and born to die
Aren't they just the same?
We're always breaking someone's heart
Especially our own
Life goes on its joyful way
As usual nothing's as it seems
But to die a good death is my dream”
In Pursuit Of … Whatever
“Is this getting a little weird?” | An Ex-Drinker’s Search for for a Sober Buzz, The New Yorker
“Yet, amidst the weirdness, the strangeness, and deep within the darkness, I am mostly happy.” | Nick Cave, The Red Hand Files #310
“Praise the weirdos because if anyone can save us it will be us.” | A Poem by Alison Luterman, shared by Robert Reich
“The first rule of eusexua is that you never stop talking about eusexua.” | Join me on the journey into FKA twigs’ “pinnacle of human experience.”
On Repeat
If you need me, I’ll be continuing my deep dive through FKA twigs’ new album EUSEXUA and a re-listen of her entire catalogue. The other night after I was hypnotized by the “Eusexua” music video, I landed here:
I’ve since listened to “cellophane” many, many times. It’s like my brain had completely erased all memories of MAGDALENE prior to this week? Wasn’t 2019 only a year ago? Didn’t I just buy that Ivy Heart sweatsuit?!
“There is no before,” indeed. (I finished my Station Eleven rewatch last weekend.)
Unrelated to all that: Here’s a little playlist inspired by Emily Dickinson, for whenever you feel “some ghastly Fright come up” (or whatever):
previously:
to be sorted later #19
“Today, I was thinking, what a great time to be alive if you love the theater of the absurd.” — David Lynch