Addiction, Breakups,and Hallmark Cards.

My recent roundup.

Hey frienditos,

My human design supposedly reads that my path to freedom is transparency. I like to share information. I don’t care if you take it all in or not, I just want to share it. I want you all to have all the information I have. In human design, the shadow side of this desire is victimization. I tell you everything, all my secrets, and then you shun me, or have a reaction, and I make myself the victim.

I hope to share everything with you not because I have no shame, but because I have shame that feels helpful to share. Addiction, breakups, Hallmark cards…this post has it all.

The empire is falling. Standard social dynamics are disintegrating. The environment is screaming. Shit’s wild. Haven’t been able to write to you with any clarity because everything is just so mindblowing. I don’t even mean Trump, he’s obvious. I’m just fully surrendered to how out of control everything is. I’m not sure if it’s just in Santa Barbara but CVS shelves are empty, FedEx shelves are empty, airplanes aren’t even being maintained correctly anymore. The vehicle of civilization has some funny rattles, it’s starting to feel like the wheels are going to pop off and I haven’t seen a mechanic I trust in ages. Have you?

I’m reading

Sophie Strand

’s new memoir The Body is a Doorway. There is a part where she is volunteering, teaching some high school girls how to write. She sees them with their insecurities and their unbridled joy and their budding worldviews. She realized that storytelling is not just words on a page. She sees the girls like flies caught in the spider web of culture’s narratives, written by mostly men who do not care about their best interests. She posits that they need to spin new webs, and that those new webs can literally save lives. Every time someone writes, their work enters the mycelial network of human thought and transforms the world like any other animal or plant. She says this is why it is important to write like your life depends on it.

As she puts it, you must write “to distract your executioner.”

Something is percolating but I’m not sure what it is. Life is so rich, I don’t know how to put it into a clear article. I don’t want to entertain you or distract you, I want to be real with you, I want to be serious. So for now, maybe for a few posts, maybe forever if you like it, I’m going to try a new format: a short musing, and then just a list of short updates for you. Scattered like the times. Articles. Pictures. Books/TV recommendations. Small stories. A snapshot of my life at that moment.

I deactivated my Instagram, which is sad because I love the people there, but the interface is demoralizing and too much like junk food and I can feel Succubus Zuckerberg in my domestic life. So, these are all the things I might have shared with you on instagram.

• I’m reading Sophie Strand’s new book, The Body is a Doorway. You should too. It’s timely in a way that is so much deeper and more touching than topically relevant. It’s relevant in a frighteningly serious way.

• I’m watching White Lotus and the Righteous Gemstones.

• I wrote a song. Here is an unfinished demo:

• We move closer to the beach. The neighborhood is either Christians (both the Trumpy kind and the surfer kind), and then AirBnbs. But walking to the beach is glorious. When I can’t sleep or wake up early I walk to the bluffs and feel the ocean breeze, smell the dolphin breath, and all is brought into perspective.

• I have been in the throes of nicotine withdrawal. It’s been gnarly and lovely. I was smoking spliffs and then when I couldn’t be high I was chewing nicotine gum to hold me over. It wasn’t sustainable and Marley hated my spliff breath. I’m 3 weeks “clean.” Though still taking edibles here and there. I really feel like this is not the time (in society) to be sober. I’m okay with taking the collective edge off. I’ve been getting high on the withdrawal too. Meditating through it. Trying to find its psychological roots, trying to balance my dopamine needs with breathing and long walks.

• Here’s some greeting cards from the FedEx store I went to today that you might find interesting.

  

  

  

• I’m being deposed for a lawsuit I’m part of tomorrow and I have to sit and answer questions for several hours.

• I also dyed my hair blondish bluish.

  

• I had a long phone call with a woman I used to date. We hadn’t talked since right before the pandemic when we had a falling out. I figured time had passed enough that maybe we could re-enter each others lives. I had sent her well wishes a couple times during the intervening years. She texted me recently and sent me some well wishes and I said we should get a meal. We made plans to meet in LA and also catch up a bit on a phone call beforehand. The call was demoralizing and sent me into a 36 hour tailspin. I even started a Substack post called “Why am I such a piece of shit?” She explained all the ways I hurt her. I said I’m sorry for causing her pain and for behaving poorly and for how rocky the end of our relationship was. I took responsibility for how bad my communication was and said I’d hope to regain her trust. It felt good to say. And then she explained that my apology felt empty. She didn’t feel it. She expressed disappointment I hadn’t matured at all with my family and wife. She expressed concern for my children (that’s when I got pissed). And started to realize I really opened myself up to this person who was ostensibly now a stranger (no idea what she has been doing for 5 years) . I really felt like the piece of shit she wanted me to feel like. And it took more than a day to realize that my leaving her, all those years ago, because she didn’t want kids, because she wanted to leave California, and because she was in an unethical relationship (with one of her close friend’s boyfriends who didn’t know about it) are all good reasons to part ways with someone. On the call she made me feel bad about all these. Like these are all dumb reasons to end a relationship. And I realized how much I have grown as a father and a husband and a person, because old me would have swallowed all this BS for longer than 36 hours. Old me thought the way she spoke to me was refreshing and clear and would make me a better man. I would have fully internalized it and identified with her projections. And after some time ruminating, I felt proud of Marley and I. We ain’t perfect but damn straight we don’t waste people’s time if we are not capable of loving them fully. That’s cruel. Like, why did my ex even take the call? I’m fine being excised from someone’s life if they aren’t capable of showing up in love or if I’m not capable of loving them the way they need but don’t waste my time trying for something that isn’t there. I’m glad I tried but sheesh it rocked me, and probably rocked her too. I can imagine her feeling caught off guard all this anger was still fresh in her mind. Lesson learned.

• Let’s end by remembering the Buddhist teaching that anger is like a hot coal you pick up and hope to throw at someone but instead it burns through your hand and scars you. Drop that coal, it will only hurt you and those around you.

• That’s all for today.

Loving you,

Josh