Let’s see. Where were we?
New Orleans. Cleveland. Upstate New York. New York City. New York City. New York City.
I am writing to you from the big apple. Spring has sprung. The temperature is taking its time to catch up.
My skin grows extra sensitive when the seasons change. I spot tiny clusters of red bumps on my lower back. My body is attuned to its environment. This sensitivity and alert awareness is a blessing. I am forced to befriend reality. I am not able to not see, not smell, not taste, not feel, not listen, not touch or not being touched. I am in It. My failed attempts to escape reality pinned me at the dead center of my embodied experience. I am here. We are here. Lucky. Lucky. Lucky.
I have a roommate for this month. She’s establishing the gold standard for my future roommates. She is smart, open, empathetic, funny and insightful. Our deep and explorative conversations leave me satiated and craving for more. She brings interesting and different perspectives. She is obsessed with building communities and bringing people together. I am learning from her. I didn’t know how hungry I have been for quality intellectual stimulations. I feel like I am back at Graduate school, sans the ungodly tuition.
My time with her illuminates what I need for a sense of aliveness. Physical vibrance is one pillar of the whole. I need people and activities that engage and challenge my brain. I need stillness and solitude to recharge. The body -mind- spirit triangle drives my experience.
I have been shopping. And I feel happy. I enjoy dressing up. I have evolved, so has my style. From only wearing black, white and blue, to giving space for multitude of colors and shapes, I have grown to appreciate complexity and nuances. From trying on other people’s styles, to knowing what looks good and feels comfortable to me, I have developed the confidence to express myself as I am. I dress for me.
How we dress signals to the world, this is who I am; this is what I can afford; this is what I think is beautiful; this is what I care (or not care) about. My style now looks like I am 10 years old and 90 years old at the same time. I am content and comfortable with how I look. I am content and comfortable.
Some things stayed the same. I am still thinking and asking questions non-stop. What’s the history of my moral formation? What’s the fantasy that I am afraid of telling? What are my hypocrisies? I am delighted to see the increased quality of my questions. This only comes after I’ve established a deep and caring relationship with myself. I am willing and okay with my flawed self. I want to get to know her more. I am capable and compassionate enough to hold space for disappointments and failures. I find being who I am fascinating and I find this human experience exhilarating. Perhaps, this is the beginning of a new era where I learn to like people – all kinds of people. This sounds like a far stretch as I type. I am excited and scared for what’s ahead. And I am ready.
Love,
Xiaoyu
P.S. let me know the fantasy you are most afraid of sharing. And I will tell you mine. In private.
