4 Stories - Fear, Joy and Commitment In The First Days
A series of true stories from January that have inspired and energized me, humbled me, made me think more deeply and made me want to be better.
It’s been a wild couple weeks. For me, I’ve been watching the news and trying to find balance between panic and ignorant optimism. I’ve been juggling more work and responsibilities than I have in years and somehow after work, I’ve been more productive on side projects than ever. And among all this, I’ve had a streak of inspiring social engagements that, in total, have made a beautiful and complex mosaic.
Following are 4 stories from January that moved me.
Permission In Person
I mentioned in my last post that I was planning on hosting a series of gatherings focused on helping folks get more involved in community protection, community building and/or resisting empire, particularly anyone feeling stuck, unsure, or lost.
AND I DID IT! The first of The Permission Sessions is done and dusted.
6 people came out. I printed out some journal prompts, we discussed the political environment right now, and walked through various questions to help folks explore their values, beliefs, hopes, yearnings, blockers and next steps.
It was the first time I’d used my coaching and facilitation skills in a long ass time, and it felt good to use them for free, with community, and for the sake of recruiting more people to the army of folks committed to finding ways to make the world more livable.
I learned a lot. This crew reminded me that it really doesn’t take much to shift from stuck to engaged, and that having a space to feel seen, held, and not alone is actually really powerful, even though it’s surprisingly simple.
I heard people say it felt good to just talk it out, and that they were getting ideas while listening to other people. There was even a project already in mind that everyone present was interested in supporting (I believe some of us will be flyering Seattle about ICE and defending Planned Parenthood soon).
As a caveat, it was also informative to see folks show a range of “current capacity” - some people are going to show up because they have time and energy right now, and some people are going to show up because they don’t feel like they’re doing enough, even though they are well beyond their capacity already.
And that’s not reasonable. It’s okay if this isn’t the season for someone to give more than they have to give. We all noted that just SHOWING UP to an event like this was already enough. People need to be allowed to just manage life and percolate.
It’s not like this shit is going to end. It’s not like it really just started. There will be time to contribute.
So along with the question of, “what is one thing you can contribute that feels aligned and do-able right now?”, the question I’ll also start asking is, “what are you already that you’re not giving yourself credit for or considering activism?”
Very overwhelmed people were already reading, thinking, talking, processing, strategizing, practicing with friends, making art, sharing online.
The gathering gave me a lot of hope and my plan is to do at least one a month. This is my commitment that I finally have the energy for - after so many years of being that person that felt shame for not doing more, but just didn’t have the capacity.
If you’re interested in hosting a gathering like this, I highly recommend just starting it. Feel free to hit me up for tips.
Punks At The Kraken
My band Shame Banger played a show just a week ago at a small Seattle punk venue (the usual for us) where a bunch of punk rock homies from Seattle and Vancouver got together to perform, play, mosh, laugh, hug, commiserate and celebrate with each other.
The high energy and boundless love of the show took me by surprise, not because this never happens here, but just because it was in such wild contrast to the general energy around all of us since this current administration started being pulled together, one ego-crazed billionaire at a time.
I wanted to show you this energy. I want you to have a secondhand somatic experience of the joy, connection, resilience, and support of this community:
(Kids on Fire - “This is Family” at The Kraken, Seattle, January 25th, 2025)
These are people who know the words of their friends’ bands. They dressed up to surprise them and force them to play an obscure secret track called “Shark Gun”. They. Had. SHARK. SHAPED. BUBBLE GUNS. There were FOUR PEOPLE IN SHARK ONESIES. People came down from VANCOUVER.
No one here is famous, y’all. They are just SO STOKED about what each other is doing. This is the small venue, humble punk rock music scene of Seattle in 2025.
And.
This show honestly fucked with my ongoing mulling over of “building community”.
I’ve been thinking (and talking) a lot about how I want us to be more than just a large group of good friends and loving acquaintances, fun drinking buddies, or committed scene mates. I’ve talked about wanting us, especially in the punk circle, to be “more political” and to do more than having political lyrics and occasionally doing fundraisers.
Being a part of the scene above, I couldn’t tell if I’m on the right path, in wanting more from us in these times. Wanting us to be willing and able to talk about the real shit without shame, and strategize together to resist empire in more radical ways.
OR… if I’m actually blinded by how extremely lucky I am to be surrounded by this many loving, ride-or-die people who I’m certain would raise funds if someone’s house burned down, give rides to the abortion clinic, host folks fearing for their lives, or create a physical barrier against any proud boy looking to start trouble.
And I’ve had to ask MYSELF…
…Can I show up for THEM that way? Am I willing to face my social anxiety to support these people, my friends and scenemates, in the way I know many of them would support me without even thinking about it?
Most people don’t have this kind of community. I never did until I got involved in music.
What I’m realizing is that I may have my own vision for how “community” could look, or how “politically active punks” SHOULD look.
But what‘s true right now is that we have an amazing, generous, loving group of people who mostly get along and have fun together. And I don’t even know most of them that well. I don’t know what their dreams are. I don’t know their struggles. And I want to know them. I want to love them harder. I want to show up for them harder.
And I suspect, it’s the connection, curiosity, trust and commitment to trustworthiness that open the opportunities to radicalize together. It’s going to be a wild year.
My Last Two Exes Are Frasier Fanatics
This is a story with wounds and love so fresh, I may even regret sharing about it later. My goal is to package the complexity in such a way that YOU at least benefit from it, even if my understanding is still cooking.
So yeah. I’ve been through two relationships now where I was tied to a chair and forced to watch Frasier for hours on end.
Kidding, but my last two partners both happened to just absolutely adore the show. Around college, Bitch Magazine ruined everything fun for me, so I have no favourite sitcom and didn’t quite get it, but watching people who feel calmed by it was endearing as hell.
So my most recent ex, who is a consummate foodie and bartender himself, paired up with another friend of ours (of local popup curators No Call No Show) to do a Frasier-themed food and cocktail popup.
I was welcomed to nab a reservation, so I did, because damnit, even though the relationship ending is still quite fresh (this is literally the second time I was going to see him in almost 3 months post-breakup), I want to be someone who doesn’t let that get in the way of me supporting people’s excellence (especially if everyone-is-over-it healthy friendship looks like a possible future for us).
Not sure if this makes me a badass or a pushover. Time will tell.
So. I recently got back into an easy friendship my other ex. And I had to tell him about this event. I was proud. And I thought he’d like it. And he LOVED IT. And asked if he could grab a reservation for himself and his new partner.
Hell. Yes.
And then. He posted it on the Frasier subReddit, which I forgot is a thing that exists, and I was informed shortly after that the event SOLD OUT because of that post. (Then I heard that it didn’t actually sell out, but it’s fine, it came very close).
What happened here legit blew my tiny mind and I’ve been telling everyone because it’s amazing, but also possibly because I have no sense of how to compose myself in public.
My exes met. They were excellent to each other. They connected about Frasier. Then one of them WROTE UP A BEAUTIFUL REVIEW and posted THAT on Reddit, and last I checked it had 300 likes or something.
Y’all this is NOT A POLYAMORY STORY. These relationships were also not little nothing relationships that ended without any conflict or hurt feelings.
And still. One of my exes helped my other ex sell out a Frasier popup. 😂
And that gives me some kind of weird and beautiful hope for the world. I appreciate both of you so much.
Finnegan’s Wake In The Living Room
Cut to Act 4. The curtain lifts on a living room in a tall-tree Norther suburb of Seattle.
6 people sit on a mish-mash collection of couches and chairs pushed together into a semi-circle. An man stands facing them, a seafoam pile of curly white hair on his head, one I’ve seen standing at the front of so many stages, but facing the performers.
Tonight, he was facing us.
I attended a home recital of the first 3rd of the 11th chapter of Finnegan’s Wake, one of the most unreadable, ineffable, musical pieces of literature ever written. Thank you James Joyce.
I’d never seen Neal do one of these performances, but afterwards, I learned that he started 11 years ago, and committed to learning one chapter of Finnegan’s Wake every year until he was done.
That’s 17 years. He has 7 to go. This year he’ll be doing Chapter 11 in December, and while the chapters have so far ranged from 30 minutes to 2 1/2 hours to perform, he estimates that this one will take 4 1/2 hours to complete. With 3 intermissions, he said.
He’s also been all over the world to various Joyce Symposiums to share this insane skill with others.
“I’m not good at memorization,” he told us.
So for 90 minutes, I listened to Neal, who rarely paused to check the print-out in front of him, and almost never stumbled over his words or slowed his pace.
As an audience member, it felt like my awe was so exceeded in the first two minutes of this that I wasn’t even able to comprehend what I was feeling beyong that.
Like when you see all the stars in the sky and then learn about how many more billions there are. We can’t even hold that much awe.
But he persisted in challenging that. It was like music. It was like noise art. It was like meditation. Waffling between droning and cheeky and hard to understand and understanding suddenly but in feel not language. I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to HEAR and UNDERSTAND, even just bits of meaning. But the piece defies you, especially that chapter apparently.
Normally I’m not comfortable enough to attend home gatherings. I prefer being a lone wolf, where I can hit a bar or show, connect with people, and then leave without obligation.
This visit, while “the wake” and Neal were obviously the main characters, also really challenged me to think more about my convictions about building community, getting to know your neighbors, trusting people more, opening up to people more, getting offline and in person, and getting hyperlocal.
It made me think I should shift my Permission Sessions to my apartment instead of a bar. BUT THEN PEOPLE WOULD KNOW WHERE I LIVE…. maybe they’d WANT THINGS FROM ME like my time. Haha. And yet, here was Neal. Sharing his whole self.
And normal people do this all the time. I don’t really have a conclusion to this one, but I was so moved by the simple act of gathering people in a room for something weird, and then hearing nerdy art kids talk about it afterwards, sharing their unique responses to something so uncommon and moving.
In Conclusion, Inconclusive
Even though in a lot of ways, I’m ready to take everything I know and finally use it to take action, I think that action will be a MAJOR training ground and learning opportunity for me.
What can I take from these moments?
Not everyone is complacent or apathetic, some people are just temporarily stuck or overwhelmed.
In person connection can be scary but transformative.
Weird art is alive and well.
People don’t have to be “acting radical” to be powerful community members.
I’m excited. I’m hopeful. I believe in people.
We should absolutely feel our feelings, step away from stressful situations, and have boundaries, but it doesn’t hurt to deprioritize our drama to lift people up.
…
I dunno, what are your take-aways?
Thank you for sitting in the in-between with me.
xoxo
RoRo