you know what that is? growth.
a 'ways of growing' spinoff
this week’s Thought (singular)
must i think a new thought every week? is it not enough to simply contemplate and lament my water consumption situation?
a very warm welcome to all new readers. i love new readers so much that whenever i get an email about a new reader, i manifest that they have lower screen time. thank you for joining us. may you be down to <2 hours per day on twitter this week.
hi
some of you might remember an edition of this newsletter from a few months ago about the different ways in which growth can be measured. it was titled, aptly, ways of growing. if you’re new to the club, or you just want a refresher, you can find it here. (you don’t have to read it to get into this one. it’d just give you a little more context, and perhaps a better rounded understanding of where this week’s issue is coming from).
in ways of growing, i mostly discuss, admittedly very morosely, about the various measurements of growth and maturity. here, i’d like to bounce off of that concept, and draw your attention towards the consequence of growth instead. or, perhaps more precisely, the indication of it. how do you know that something has shifted inside you? what external situation needs to be faced to realise that an internal change has occurred, and that for the better?
off the top of my head, i can think of a few circumstances. a favourite song that you listen to again after a few years, putting your present self in stark juxtaposition with the self from back then. a movie that you interpret differently now after a huge event, a verse that hits a little closer than it used to the previous time you read it. i suppose art is a repeat destination, and it’s the carriage you’re in that changes - a higher seat, better suspension - leading to a different perspective and modified response to the same stimulus.
the above art-as-place/self-as-shifting-transport metaphor serves as a great jumping point for me to segue into the subject of this edition - a space gets subtly mutated every time you visit it after a gap, and that’s a lovely indicator of growth. or, more accurately, the space stays exactly the same, but you change, leading to the space itself taking on a different form or function.
i spent a week at home after moving out to a new city around a month ago. the house looks the same, and yet, it feels different. maybe a lovelier way of putting it would be - i am so much a part of this space, that when i change, it changes too.
i’m still trying to put my finger on the change, to point directly at the thing that seems so novel about it. i’m in the same room i’ve lived in for ten years, typing this on the same three-years old laptop, sitting at the same study table that i’ve used from middle school - and yet, something is different. i’m having dinner with the same people who’ve known me since i was born, keeping the milk tokens out at night the same way i always have, seeing my reflection in the same bathroom mirror that i’ve given a million imaginary acceptance speeches in - and yet, something is different. what changed about the place in the last month when i wasn’t in it? what changed about me in the last month when the place didn’t contain a jahnavi?
i’d like to think the answer is as simple as growth that’s a consequence of the natural occurrence of inevitable events. new experiences that come from living outside have allowed for broadened horizons, fresh perspectives, and varied responsibilities - all of which have lent themselves to my own altered capabilities and preferences. my permanently smudgy glasses have gotten an extra coat of nuance, a shift in angle that makes home look just a little bit off-kilter. this feeling of unsettledness is perhaps the greatest proof that growth is what has occurred.
this issue is exactly what it says on the lid - musings - but i’ll still try to tie it all up a bit neater. there are many ways of measuring growth, as we’ve previously established. and recently, i’ve realised that there are also many situations/occurrences/things that act as direct and accusatory index fingers towards growth. a place in which you’ve spent nearly your entire life could take on a completely different shape after a few weeks of living outside it - more because you contribute to that shape and it is you who has shifted than any real modification to the place itself. the partial discomfort that comes from being unable to pinpoint exactly what this new shape is, which corners have been taken in and which ones have been smoothed out, indicates growth.
English Recitation Competition
I’m in the world but I still want the world. I’m full of longing and can’t move, enthralled in the garden. Having died all the way back to the root, I grow again into a version of the thing I love.
Ekphrasis on Nude Selfie as Portrait of Saint Sebastian, Torrin A. Greathouse
Suppose they made martyrs out of bodies like ours. Found faith in all our petty miracles. You woke this morning, drew breath like a blade from a sheath.
Yes, he’d been no angel and so what . . . Yes, tiny moths emerged from the hall closet. Yes, the odor of kombucha made him sick. Yes, he lay for hours pondering the treetops, the matriarchal clouds, the moon. Though his spleen collected melancholy trophies, his imagination was not impeded.
A Poll!
Middle School Book Review
your regularly scheduled book recommendation has been temporarily halted. watch this space over the coming weeks so you don’t miss the next one!
find all shared books here.
A Picture!
The Good Side of the Internet
Are Social Media Break-Up Announcements the New Normal?
Of all the quirks that define modern relationships, perhaps the oddest is the fact that we feel compelled to tell strangers on the internet about them. And yet, it’s something we’ve been doing for years.
The Myth of the 25-Year-Old Brain
A powerful idea about human development stormed pop culture and changed how we see one another. It’s mostly bunk.
Coming to terms with our new textual culture.
The app’s original purpose has been lost in the era of “performance” media.
Confessions of a Middle-Aged Fanboy
Readers, we have been together for nearly 20 years, but I have never yet spoken with you about my condition. I have maturity interruptus. In me, it takes the form of an affliction of the musical taste.
When I was 15, I listened to the music that was popular among 15-year-olds. Then as I’ve aged through my 20s, 30s, 40s and 50s I have continued to listen to whatever music is popular among 15-year-olds. My body has matured; my tastes have not.
this week’s Song
No Use I Just Do by Hayley Williams
find all shared songs here.
thank you for reading, and see you next week <3
yes? no? maybe? let me know!
As someone who moved out of home for the first time a month ago for work, this reallyyyyyy hit me right in the feels! So beautifully written :’)
This is a fantastic way of looking at growth, one that has never quite occurred to me even though I recognize it!