Feel your power

I'm living isolation. Well, I'm spending the month in Vermont. It's a voluntary solitude, at a cabin in a town with nothing but a post office, a church, and a little library the size of my Brooklyn one-bedroom, and it's lovely. The house is full of furniture that makes you understand the word “home”, like rocking chairs and tasseled lamps, decorations, like seashells and water-colored sunsets, that are beautiful not because they're expensive but because you know there's a story behind them. There's a quiet lake nearby that I run to for a quick swim in the afternoons, it's so clear you can see your whole body. It's a dream fulfilled--to be alone with nothing but the time and space to create. A dream that has lulled me to sleep many-a-night after long, stressful days in Brooklyn.

I could stop there, on so many accounts it's idyllic. But it's also lonely, devastatingly so, at times. There are days where I've felt so useless, unable to get words on paper or think of anything original at all, without another person around to remember why it even matters, I can't bring myself to leave the house. I can’t do anything but eagerly await the next the morning. Even in the most perfect settings, nothing's perfect.

The woman I'm renting from is older. She has two kids in college, has lived in the house for decades, owns a cat. I couldn't imagine we'd have much to talk about, until we actually talked. What started as an awkward doorway conversation as she picked up her mail, turned into one of the richest sit down discussions I'd had in weeks. Maybe because I was deeply starved of human contact, sure, but mostly because people are interesting when you allow yourself the time to be interested.

I was in a particularly good mood that day. An essay I had been waiting months to publish was finally out in the world, had even gotten praise from authors I respect. About thirty minutes into our conversation, it came up. I mentioned it quickly, afraid to seem boastful, knowing I'm still so far from anything worthy of discussion, and this stranger-of-a-woman's eyes went wide. She was so happy for me I wanted to cry.

I told her it was nothing, even though I had never been more proud of a piece and it felt like Christmas morning, but I also knew tomorrow would be the same as every other day.

"I want to make a big sign that says 'Feel Your Power',"she said. "So when you feel good you embrace it, and don't forget." She understood. How hard it can be to believe what you have to say matters. How useless everything can seem when even the smallest step requires endless work. How, for some people, even the space your body requires can feel like something to apologize for.

It's an interesting time to talk about power. As previously silenced voices are finally being heard and marginalized groups are bravely speaking out, others are wielding their systemic privilege in retaliation, like happiness, or even existence, is a zero sum game. As if the ability to thrive, depends on the oppression of others. And, although it’s not zero sum at all, when your success is not a product of your ability but a result of biased systems that reward nothing but the identity you were born into, the idea that you might finally have to do more than simply look the part, is threatening. "You will not replace us," is the chilling, hateful chant that echoes.

Like everyone else, the horror show that is the state of our country is mostly what I’ve been reading about lately. Here are a few pieces I've found particularly moving: Vice News' sickening and necessary coverage of Charlottesville. Too many of us have confused the idea of oppression with that of opposition, explained. Everyday ways to fight racism. A powerful response to the inexcusable Google "manifesto.” Another one. I want to live in Fran Lebowitz’s mind. Men, please don’t front as feminists. In case you’re not already listening to Still Processing. It’s not fringe. Doris Lessing so perfectly captures male/female dynamics, Nell Zink explains it.

Since my last email, I've also published some things. So in the spirit of feeling my power, here they are: My essay on egg freezing and detangling your wants from what other people want for you. My first real humor piece about those lucky ones who have found love but have kind of forgotten how to be people. A few pop-culture critiques: One on how torturous it was to watch Judd Apatow's Love. Another for Paste about how Insecure nails double standards in modern dating like no other show on TV.

So I guess, feel your power, and, more importantly, know when to relinquish it, too.

Until next time, with love,

Emily