The most glorious of tapestries
Mark your calendars!
The Establishment is throwing a storytelling event
HOLI-DAZE . . .
featuring five writers telling
hilarious | harrowing
true tales about the holidays.
+ live illustrations of the stories being drawn as the story is being told…
Thursday December 14th in San Francisco.
Tickets go on sale next week!
Happy Friday friends. I had a strange thing happen to me this week.
I finally — finally! — felt sad and brave enough to pursue therapy again.
As I’m sure you know all too well when you’re feeling shitty — lost, hopelessly grey through and through — finding a therapist can feel like the final straw, the very thing that will make you snap and turn inwards on yourself with the ferocity of a collapsing star.
I had requested a list of therapists on my insurance for six months. I’d periodically feel hot and panicky and self-loathing and open the email, taking a gander at the names before feeling even more hot and panicky — how on earth do I stomach trying to articulate my childhood again to a well-composed stranger in a beige turtle-neck?! — before closing the email and making some tea to forget about it.
But last week? I had cried every day and felt like a living wound. Enough, I bellowed, my voice echoing around and around my cranium. And before I could talk myself out of it, I called Magellan and had them check the availability of every woman on that list. I got a name, hung up, and called that name and made an appt.
For that afternoon.
I tried to be coy and not act as though I was unravelling like that monster in Nightmare Before Christmas — “if at all possible, it’d be wonderful to meet sooner rather than later,” I said in my email — but inside my stomach churned and dropped.
Please see me, I whispered. It felt so hard just to call you.
But she did. And five hours later I found myself in theexact same office I was in four years ago when I was breaking up with a long-term partner. Different practice, same four walls.
I stared around the room wondering if I should feel strange or sad or even more broken than when I walked in — here I am again, four years later, still frayed and crying — but instead I felt wonderful.
It was a small but potent victory over my own shadows. My new therapist isn’t revelatory, but she’s kind and smart and she listens.
And surely I’ll never banish my shadows if I don’t ask for the light.
I hope you have someone to flip the switch — even for a few moments — and send that darkness skittering. And I hope that if you don’t, you find that tiny reserve inside your beautiful body to make the call and get the hell out of the house and onto a stranger’s sofa.
Let someone kind untangle your threads and help you weave them back together. For surely you are a most glorious tapestry.
With love + rage,
Co-founder | Creative Director
By Ijeoma Oluo
7. Do not expect forgiveness.
Yes, you may be doing this to be a better person, but it does not mean that others have to see you as a better person. The things we do cannot be undone. We must find other ways to get as close to making things right as we can, but if you’ve harmed someone, you have no right to expect to be seen by them or anyone else impacted by you actions as anyone other than the person who harmed someone. You have to live with what you did as long as they do.
Dr. Punita Rice
More than 25 years later, comic, filmmaker, and actor Hari Kondabolu has released a new documentary, The Problem with Apu, that examines how this minstrel-like character has created, perpetuated, and normalized the simultaneous other-ing and mocking of South Asians in America.
The film’s aim: to break down, for the world, why the Apu character is so damaging to brown people like me.
By Tori Telfer
“When you analyze a recurring dream, you identify the issue and the underlying mindset patterns that are keeping you stuck in the pattern. You can then change the patterns through a combination of awareness and…reimagin[ing] the dream to change the outcome. It’s an art and a science, and what this process does is reprogram the unconscious mind for better outcomes.”
It should go without saying that any dream analyst worth their salt already knows how to do this for themselves. And so by and large, their recurrent dreams are safely in their past. In fact, many of them look back at particular recurring dreams as the Xs that marked a dark epoch in their life — an epoch from which their own self-analysis rescued them.
By Leigh Ann Smith
But when the personal is political and the political becomes real weapons wielded by Nazis and white supremacists actively seeking to harm, what is the appropriate response? Just what is enough? And given the staggering number of innocent people who die from guns every year in the U.S. — and the country’s prevalence of mass shootings — what defense can be made for carrying guns as a means of social justice?
Redneck Revolt is an anti-racist, pro-gun community defense network providing answers to these questions, while raising a host of others.
By Elizabeth Brico
When I reached the top, I found him waiting for me, smiling. He was sprawled across a couch someone had left on the side of the road, his bike toppled at his feet. I tossed my bike next to his and crashed onto him. We kissed deeply, before I lay my head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around my skinny frame. While the sweat cooled on my skin, and my heart settled into its resting pace, I was overcome by joy.
Anything is worth this moment, I thought, anything that happens is worth what I’m feeling right now.
That is the memory that haunts me most.