Gently Grasping at Words

And an online course shaped for January 2025

I haven’t been able to sit at my desk and write in this format for a bit, so my apologies to my devoted subscribers. Perhaps a few of you are grateful that my pace has slowed down so that you can catch up on old posts. :)

A lot of my hesitation to write here has to do with a shift in the way I am seeing myself. It’s like I’m sloughing off a skin that has needed shedding, and the new raw sense of self is tender and recalibrating in a constantly shifting context. This reshaping seems necessary in order to cope with what is going on, chaos that is easily found both inside & outside. But it’s not really a conscious coping mechanism. It’s like wearing a blindfold in a space that is not defined by horizon lines with lots of blurry feelings stirring my inner pot. Thank goodness there are daily tasks that need doing and friends to support, otherwise I might be pulled under by all the disturbing & provocative images that are accessible 24/7. If all this sounds too vague, my apologies, but I don’t know how to write about this time any differently.

Due to this liminal state, my concentration has been lousy. I’ve been wondering how to write about this process publicly (with all 321 of you). I’ve been writing elsewhere privately because writing is my daily practice even if I don’t share it. What’s motivating me to offer these words today is the intensity of the collective energy I’m sensing. It’s a heavy time, waiting for the next shoes to drop (as if they haven’t dropped into a void of corpses and corrupt politicians many times over already). Autumn & adrienne maree brown speak to some of the heaviness of this time in their latest episode of How to Survive the End of the World.

Even if my thoughts here are not the most coherent, I need them mirrored by reading eyes. There’s something that needs digesting, in a post-solstice kind of way, as the moments of light increase in the northern hemisphere. I’m carrying too much charged energy by myself, and your eyes will help it move elsewhere in the quantum.

Aside from the intensity of knowing that the collective is currently on the verge of “we know not what, but it ain’t too pretty,” we cannot really predict which way the cards will fall. We do know that much of it is NOT going to be comfortable, particularly for those already marginalized, and weather disasters will likely target us without discrimination. Tactical disobedience needs to be on our menus, along with building relationships that will offer mutual aid.

My daily life has required new tools that I’ve mentioned in previous posts, but the shadow side my undiagnosed ADD seems to be running the show these days. I browse the internet, looking for something in particular, and get lost in a story that the algorithm thinks is perfected tailored for my neuroses. An hour can go by, and I can rationalize that I’m learning something about the motivations of people I don’t understand, or procrastinate about things that would actually make me feel better if I just DID them. And sadly, I seem to be avoiding the editing of my book manuscript. It’s like one part of the universe is saying “STOP being so driven to get this out in the world, it needs simmering” and another part of the universe is pressing heavily on my super ego to get my butt in the saddle. Yesterday, my kind therapist insisted that I need to get this material out into the world. I heard her loud and clear, but first I need to publish this last Substack of the year, and then I will begin tweaking the 200 page manuscript.

Yes, the distractions have been many. Is everyone else experiencing this right now due to this time in the world, the way the screens move us from one item to another? Is it part of a big denial energy? It seems that way, but from inside the bubble of my life, I cannot generalize about how this is working in the minds of others.

Recently, I helped my son relocate in Southern California. That was a good distraction. I was really glad to see my son, as well as old friends and learn how they have been navigating the pandemic, aging, ecocide, this political & economic moment, and more. While it was a big interruption in my writing rhythm, it was not a bad one. The sight of old familiar landscapes in Long Beach, Venice, & Ojai, landed deeply inside me. The memories that arose took my breath away at times; I felt so much loss, but then some deep gratitude for the love that was shared in those places, and the beauty and adventures that we were able to experience. Those California years were not easy ones (particularly due to poor health and an unsupportive work environment), but my memories focused on the richness of what I experienced there. Ultimately, this short trip was invigorating and I’m glad that my son’s presence down may auger future visits.

Unlike last winter when I was deep in grief, I’ve had the bandwidth to more fully participate in solstice celebrations and ceremonies, as well as some wonderful Xmas meals, and an anti-Zionist latke party.

The props assembled and altar shaped for our annual Solstice Ritual at the Avelon Ballroom. It was powerful & exhausting.

As mentioned above, I’ve been very creative in the land of procrastination, making props, spell pouches, and altars (see the ritual space above), writing new bios (more inspired and raw than any I’ve written in many years) for several websites, and watching endless reels on my phone (a form of entertainment that both amuses and enrages me because the algorithm often clutches me in its sticky grip, for way too long).

I attempt to read fragments of the news - although my nervous system can’t handle much of it. On Substack, I follow (Heather Cox Richardson, Michael Moore, Chris Hedges, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Robert Reich. I glean some salient information from a variety of other places like Rebecca Solnit’s posts on FB, as well as the posts of Chani Nicholas, adrienne maree brown, and many others on Instagram. I canceled my subscriptions to the NYT and Washington Post before the election, and decided I was better off subscribing to the Guardian, Al-jazeera, Daily Kos (thanks to Dr. Bob for introducing me to that site), Democracy Now, and Common Dreams. I go to these media sources judiciously hoping that I won’t implode in rage and despair, but rather expecting that what I read will give more fuel to my work of creating more community through art & writing & ritual.

As a final note, I need to share that I am offering an online program to help me and others find more creative compasses with which we can move through the times ahead.

A new online program, ART MEDICINE FOR CATASTROPHIC & TRANSFORMATIVE TIMES, starts Saturday, January 4th, and every subsequent Saturday in January 2025, at 10 am Pacific Time. Venmo a suggested contribution of $20/per class to participate to @Beverly-Naidus and you will receive the Zoom link. You can also use PayPal: https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/bnaidus

If you can’t make the first gathering, no worries. Let me know if you want to sign up for the following ones. Classes will run about 90 minutes; there will be an "after-party" for more informal discussions.

Each class will start with a guided meditation and visualization process. A conversation about the times we are entering as a species (sometimes referred to as THE LONG DARK) will act as a prompt for our work together. Participants will be encouraged to bring a sketch pad or journal for writing and drawing. We will have brainstorming break out sessions, and time to share projects and collaborate on building our visions for how to ground, drop into a different rhythm from the dominant culture, and develop disobedient & creative tactics for navigating this time. Our goal is to offer up something tangible and expansive to guide you and your community through uncertain times.

In the meantime, hold onto your saddles. We’re going to be riding through terrain that is likely going to shake us to our core selves (whatever they may be). And let’s take some actions that might provide some unexpected delights & miracles in the coming year.

Menorahs lit with prayers for an end to the genocides around the world.

The delightful birdlife on Santa Barbara’s Leadbetter Beach