Hello friends! I just set up new monitor speakers with a work-from-home stipend, and I feel very pleased. With improved sound quality comes a sense of possibility and exploration that isn’t necessarily expected. The complex tapestry of melodic highs, foundational lows, and robust mids of songs I have had on repeat for years are just now revealing themselves, and it kind of feels like I’m hearing the songs for the first time all over again. It makes me want to dance, and to make more of these! Here are a few sticky tidbits of consciousness that seem worth sharing:
Not giving yourself the option can be the best option!
Speaking of music (beautiful, thoughtful music!) I was lucky enough to attend one of This Never Happened’s Summer Gatherings in Denver. Led by the man and myth that is Daniel Goldstein—also known as Lane 8—, TNH is a super great music label and event series filled with DJs who, simply put, know the vibe. Please do check out their artists and carefully curated Spotify playlists.
I would genuinely love to post photos of the incredible scene that was Saturday, September 9th. But I don’t have any! As one may infer from the event’s title, the seven-hour show—if judged according to our modern media “give me footage or give me death” standards—may indeed have not occurred. What did happen was Yondr. Upon entry, my phone was put in a locked pouch that I kept on me but could not open unless I walked back out to one of the phone zones to get it unlocked. Where the music could be heard and enjoyed existed nothing but dancing humans and, well, more dancing humans.
What seemed like an odd gimmick at first was an incredible exploration into 1) my own impulses and 2) the magic that can occur when similar impulses are simultaneously suppressed in a large crowd of music lovers. Early in the evening, I found myself reaching for my pocket here and there for a range of fabricated reasons—a video, a photo, the weather forecast, probably even my email. It was pleasantly surprising and somewhat shocking how quickly I forgot about my phone after these first few instances. I think something simple but profound registered in my mind: that I couldn’t access my phone even if I wanted to! Without the eroding fatigue of needing to decide against reaching for it over and over again, the impulse seemed to melt away. Multiply this by many thousands of individuals and you get the most present, interactive crowd I have ever had the pleasure of convening with. Conversations and compliments flowed with less resistance. Hip swivels and wrist flicks were fully unobstructed. It was awesome, and I think the Yondr piece played a big part in creating a crowd that could patiently embrace the long builds that make Lane 8’s music special.
The half-baked lesson here is to think about other areas of life in which removing decisions and making one option the only option can reduce the amount of willpower you have to exert and make things flow a little more easily. An easy one would be filling your pantry with less tempting foods. But what else? It’s fun to think about. And the potential returns can be surprisingly impressive!
“This laughter brings us longevity.”
These—in addition to “don’t get angry”—are the words of Umeto Yamashiro, a wonderfully vibrant 101-year-old woman living on the islands of Okinawa, Japan. Umeto is featured in episode 1 of the new Blue Zones docuseries on Netflix, which delves into the multifaceted (and, at times, counterintuitive) process of maintaining one’s vitality and overall well-being deep into life’s later years—a period which many of us associate with immobility and illness.
I found myself uncontrollably smiling throughout the episode, save a few weird vibes from Dan Buettner. Scenes with Umeto and others, like the 87-year-old master of mobility Harumasa Mekaru, and Tomi Ito—who, at the age of 93, regularly hangs out with her 86 and 96-year old friends to sing, dance, and chat—had an expansive and insightful effect on my mind.
I have long known about the centenarian-filled Blue Zones and their shared underlying principles, such as a sense of belonging and purpose, as well as predominantly plant-based diets. But seeing these folks in action, quite literally living their best lives, and listening to their poignant yet matter-of-fact answers when asked about their “longevity secrets” has planted new seeds within me about what a life well lived really means. Further, the show did a great job of revealing the flaw of thinking singularly. Okinawans seem to hit at least 2 or 3 of the Blue Zones principles in everything they do: in creating moais, they find lifelong friends and community-driven financial and social support. In having gardens, they create an environment that invites consistent, low-level activity and increases the availability of a diverse range of foods (though I agree with them that purple sweet potatoes do, indeed, reign supreme).
The Blue Zones project is slowly spreading to other towns and cities, and it sparks a well of practical hope within me. Improved walkability and having more shared spaces to hang out with friends shouldn't be too much to ask for, and there are real mechanisms to bringing about transformative change to places that may seem to have completely lost touch with many of these principles, yet harbor a collective yearning for something better and more beautiful. Do watch, and do get involved with your own space and people! And not just because one of my best friends works there.
Whatever you resist, persists.
Nothing to say about this one, just a subtly profound quote from a Tarot card that seems to apply to pretty much every life bucket.
I love the idea of a “no phone zone.” To force us to disconnect, so we can actually connect. Genius! The Blue Zone series was fascinating and logical, all wrapped into one. The quality and longevity of this life connected to simplicity is so hopeful!
thank you 🙏