For the Birds: Solstice magic
Three good, spontaneous things.
Thanks for being here! These letters are born of my own artistic vision, but they carry the hope of encouraging you in yours. Paid readers gain access to The Resiliency Circle & receive nourishment all month long: stories, essays, and prompts to support you in bringing creativity to the surface of your days, always with sustainability + enchantment in mind.
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Dear friends,
Yesterday I woke up in a bad place. I’d been spooked the night before by the newest episode of Last Week Tonight with John Oliver, and then I went to sleep and had terrible, terrible dreams. I was already full of anger at something that happened five months ago, but which had only just caught up with my divergent brain. I also learned this week that the company helping me manage my student loans for the past 8 years was maybe not such a good company after all, and maybe no longer exists?
One of my least favorite parts of my Autism is the constant confrontation with my naiveté. I can’t get used to the fact that bad things exist in plentitude. I don’t understand why companies trick people. And I can’t believe—meaning, the belief will not stay in my mind, no matter how many times I look at it head on—that people can cause harm to each other and then just walk away from the ruins. No acknowledgment, no accountability. Even the people you love.
Please: Don’t feel bad for me. I’m doing something vital by naming these wounds out loud as opposed to hiding them, a survival mechanism born of the part of me that feels like a sick bird and doesn’t want to become easy prey. But my naiveté has medicine, too. I take people at their word—I believe people. I’m shocked by shocking things. I’m moved by small instances of magic and beauty, which are literally everywhere.
I think my reactions make sense.
Do you think there are more good people than bad people, I asked my partner during an evening walk on Tuesday, noticing afterwards how like a child I sounded. I’m adding this to the pile of things I’d rather not say but am saying anyway: I often feel incredibly, ridiculously young. Too young, but also too old, like I belong to a generation that can’t be named.
I wasn’t going to send a newsletter this week, but now I’m all topsy turvy and emotional (Good emotional! Er, I mean, necessary emotional), so I’ve changed my mind. Today’s spontaneous issue contains three good things:
An incredible letter from 1959 that I stumbled upon at a local antique store.
The full set of prompts from last night’s Resiliency Circle.
A lifetime discount on an annual paid subscription to For the Birds, because why not? (I’m practicing being spontaneous, friends—use it by Saturday! But like, let me know if you need longer than that.)
This morning, I’m of the mindset that there’s enough anticipation in the world.
I’m sick of anticipation. Sometimes it’s okay—sometimes it’s medicine—to just do and say what you want to do and say, right now. Here’s to spontaneous feelings, and the spontaneous creative expressions and opportunities they engender!
Side-note: I really do recommend, when you have the emotional bandwidth, making a little cocoon for yourself and watching John Oliver’s newest episode, “Trump’s Second Term” (season 11, episode 15). You can stream his show on Max with a paid subscription, OR check the Last Week Tonight YouTube channel in the coming days, where the video should be uploaded for free streaming.
1. “Now see how proud you are of just having lived”
One of my happy places is going to thrift shops and antiques stores and digging through old postcards, letters, and other paper ephemera, something I can do for hours if I’m by myself.
Though I get most excited about the black & white photographs and the postcards sent back when postage was 2 cents, the following letter—from Anne to Dorothe—is one of my most cherished finds.
I’m really excited to share this with you:
July 14, 1959
Dear Dorothe:
Some people make a habit of having birthdays once a year—especially on July 16—for some people this is a very good idea, and they should continue this habit for many, many more years to come.
On the other hand, some people who make a habit of having birthdays, should stop it—for reasons best known to them and to the others surrounding them—who must see them from time to time; in your case, this is not a must for you to stop having birthdays.
We refer to certain individuals who from year to year upon birthdays, when evaluation of the past year’s living and doing is added up—find that what they have accomplished amounts to zero; and they continue during the rest of their life always doing lots of nothing for lots of people; and trying to take credit for accomplishing lots of nothing.
Just in case you feel like evaluating just what you have accomplished (not for yourself and family, but to make it a better world for others), just sit yourself down, turn off your TV; and think—————————
Now see how proud you are of just having lived—and for what you have contributed—and let's look forward to many more birthdays—and the feeling of accomplishment that God himself will write into your special account book.
For more and better birthdays for you for more and better years, and for the evolution of each one—to find it more golden than the one just past—and a long life of health, happiness and the fulfillment of your innermost dreams—that is the wish of the Kastenbaum’s on this your umpteenth natal day.
Anne
2. Resiliency Circle: Summer solstice writing prompts
In honor of the Solstice, I’ve opted to share the prompts from last night’s Resiliency Circle with all readers! Download the PDF below for a three-part writing & visualization series, including some gentle warm-up questions for establishing a joyful tone.
3. A celebratory discount!
Two years ago, on the summer Solstice of 2022, I officially registered my business.
Holy cow. Two full years of self-employment and all the hard, wonderful things that accompany such: uncertainty and freedom and self-doubt and self-reliance. Changes of mind! Experiments! Most importantly, a deepening sense of my own creative agency.
I’m celebrating my business birthday with a bold discount: between today and Saturday, upgrade to a paid annual subscription to For the Birds and receive 25% off forever!
Three reasons you might upgrade:
You want to attend the Resiliency Circle, a low-stakes / highly nourishing creative gathering, every single month!
You feel good when you support writers & artists, and you like knowing your dollars are fueling a space like this one.
You want access to every single prompt, tool, essay, and oracle I create in this newsletter.
It is not naive to trust people, or institutions, government, the world. Approaching the world with mistrust seems an incredibly sad way to traverse our short lives. There will be all kinds of folks along the way who will test our trust just like there will be many who will surprise us with their care, love, and fulfillment of trust. In my world, I see mistrust displayed for the flimsiness of reasons: skin color, class, age, houselessness, religion, and even hearing someone speak a language different than our own. I trust you dear Sarah and that is enough for me!
Happy business birthday! I really loved the letter you shared. Here’s to a lot more accomplishments that matter and a lot more years that are golden!