The Silent Confrontation
The Silent Confrontation
Projecting my way into the future.
Happy New Year, friends! Another month is here, and there’s so much to say yet I have so little energy to say it. As much as I appreciate the symbolic turn of a calendar year, it feels strange to find myself in limbo, the tension and pressure of a “fresh start” heavy on my mind. Sure, it’s only a matter of time before things shift and change, but I don’t do very well with the in-between. Dan and I spent most of last year working on a passion project that we are still trying to finalize production on and officially launch for Duende. We are also moving in a month to a new home in a different LA neighborhood. Dan is heading off to Copenhagen for ten days, I am working on writing a book.
I find that I waste a lot of time wanting to be somewhere else — dreaming away the present by projecting my way into the future. Thinking that when I just get there, or once I just have this, then I’ll be _____ (fill in the blank: happy, fulfilled, relaxed, fruitful, secure, healthy). I have a good life, and so many things to be grateful for, yet it’s easy to fall back on fear or lack.
In an effort to be productive this weekend, I washed the bedding. An hour later, I walked into the house to find the machine’s drain had gotten loose and water had gushed out into our entryway and living room, soaking our hand-knotted rugs and furniture. Thankfully we caught it before any real damage had been done. I couldn’t help but laugh, remembering how it’s often during these periods of immense change and growth that challenges come rolling in. When we first moved to California in 2021, I made a list of everything that happened in those first two weeks:
No hot water or gas
Laundry not installed properly
Dwindling bank account
Car battery died twice
Otto had most intense seizure
No trash bins
Air mattress on floor
Missing mail / undeliverable packages / “Address does not exist”
Panic attack
Empty house
But you know what? Some great things also happened. I mean, for one, WE MOVED TO LA (best decision ever). A commercial Dan scored music for won an Emmy. I found a Ligne Roset Togo chair piece and a beautiful patio table for free on the curb.
I am so ready to get from point A to Z, that I nearly forget about first getting to points B, C or D. It’s too large of a leap to take in one day, I have to focus on that first step. The in-between is where so much of life resides, not in the perceived future. So anyway, here I am again. Still working on softening. Still working on acceptance. Still working on gratitude. Still working on presence. Some months I wish I had something more polished and manicured to say in this space, but it’s not so tidy in this moment and that’s okay. It’s a lesson I needed reminding of — we can show up wherever we are, and that is enough for today. One little act at a time. Little Elise can’t help but sing Whitney Houston’s “Step by Step.” Lol, please tell me someone else here loved The Preacher’s Wife as much as I did.
Until next time,
Elise
P.S. I’ll leave you with this, David Whyte’s No Path:
'There is No Path that Goes all the Way'
(Han-shan)
Not that it stops us looking
for the full continuation.
The one line in the poem
we can start and follow
straight to the end. The fixed belief
we can hold, facing a stranger
that saves us the trouble
of a real conversation.
But one day you are not
just imagining an empty chair
where your loved one sat.
You are not just telling a story
where the bridge is down
and there’s nowhere to cross.
You are not just trying to pray
to a God you always imagined
would keep you safe.
No, you’ve come to a place
where nothing you’ve done
will impress and nothing you
can promise will avert
the silent confrontation,
the place where
your body already seems to know
the way, having kept
to the last, its own secret
reconnaissance.
But still,
there is no path
that goes all the way,
one conversation
leads to another,
one breath to the next
until
there’s no breath at all,
just
the inevitable
final release
of the burden.
And then,
wouldn’t your life
have to start
all over again
for you to know
even a little
of who you had been?
NOTEWORTHY
—Your brain needs more rest than you’re giving it. Here are nine helpful tips.
—I had the pleasure of helping to curate the retail component for Fruits in Nashville, and you can find Duende x Finea Incense Holders among the many other goodies.
—Still thinking about Dan Levy’s new movie, Good Grief.
PLEASURE
I’m leaning into a cozy English vibe for our new home, which was built in the 1920s. This color palette has me so inspired.
This red carpet response from Ayo Edebiri was so relatable, I love her (and The Bear). Healthcare should not be aspirational!
I will be cooking this ASAP.
CONTEMPLATING
On Reframing Our Definitions Of Success. The Creative Independent is one of my favorite resources — this conversation with journalist Rainesford Stauffer resonated.
Who Influences The Influencers? A fascinating discussion between three women on the new era of influence.
36 Hours In Lisbon. I’m dreaming of a trip to Portugal this summer, especially after an astrologer told me it was an important place in my chart. Please share any recs!
Photo Credit: Portrait de James Joyce by Constantin Brâncuși, 1928, via Psychic Landscape.