Come together and fall apart
Hi Friends,
It’s the beginning of June which means that May is over. (Aren’t you impressed with my understanding of the complexities of the Gregorian calendar?)
I mention this because May was Mental Health Awareness Month and I really didn’t acknowledge that in any official way. That’s because, much like Valentine’s Day, I don’t think we need just one occasion to mark something as significant as LOVE or OUR MINDS.
Recently, I’ve been talking ad nauseam about my visit to The Blackburn Inn because it was the first time I’ve slept away from my home since the pre-pandemic days. So to me, The Blackburn Inn felt like freedom. It felt like the end of COVID captivity. Which is interesting because historically, this hotel represented the epitome of confinement.
It used to be a psychiatric institution - a “lunatic asylum” to use phrasing from when it was built in 1828. At some point it became a prison, and the whole thing was eventually closed in the early 2000s. There are about twelve buildings on the property. Half the buildings are restored, looking bright and beautiful, half are still works-in-progress, crumbling and falling apart. (Create your own meaningful metaphor here.)
The current owners have done a masterful job making the hotel modern and welcoming, while maintaining a nod to its history. The wrought iron fences are no longer topped with concertina wire, threatening to slice anyone who tried to escape. The bars on the windows blend in with the decorative cross pieces. The massively thick walls feel more protective than restraining.
Those of you who read my earlier letter know I was hoping for some sort of paranormal activity 👻 but nothing creepy happened during our visit. (Well, I heard a dog barking in the middle of the night, and Jeremy didn’t — so I’m claiming a potential ghost dog.)
We were visiting the location as a possibility for future in-person mindfulness retreats, and I find something darkly hilarious about taking a bunch of anxious people to a former psych ward. But upon reflection, the place was fundamentally intended to create better mental wellness, so it’s quite appropriate. It sits on eighty acres, with giant trees and rolling hills, and if you don’t look too hard you could miss the graveyard with the rows of unmarked stones.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that this building was once filled with people who were a lot like me. People who were highly sensitive. People who were empathetic and cried a lot. People who had a hard time getting a hold of their emotions and were sometimes overcome with panic, worry, depression, and anxiety. People who were introverted, shy, and just plain weird. It feels better to “otherize” and decide I am nothing like the people who were here. But they were me.
We’ve come so far in terms of mental health. Yet in many ways, we’re still wrapped in barbed wire. There is still fear and shame around mental wellness. We still feel alone and trapped. It’s great to throw around the hashtag #mentalhealthmonth, but then we turn around and trash Naomi Osaka for prioritizing her mental health because it doesn’t fit with what we want from celebrities.
We don’t need the month of May to talk about mental health.
This is a lifelong conversation.
Let’s keep talking.
Here’s what’s been going on this week:
What I’m reading
The Vanishing Half - Britt Bennett This book has been recommended to me over and over, which ignites my book rebellion and literary snobbery and makes me want to skip it. But so far, the first ten pages might have me hooked.
I also just stopped by my favorite independent bookstore to pick up my copy of Ashley Ford’s Somebody’s Daughter, which just came out this week. I can’t wait to get into this one.
What I’m finally doing like a grownup
Wearing sunscreen daily. I feel like I should get an adulting badge every time I put on Elta MD. I know I’m supposed to wear sunscreen. I get it. But I have never found a sunscreen that doesn’t feel like I’m spreading Elmer’s glue on my face. But my dermatologist recommended this one and it’s great. I actually enjoy putting it on and it doesn’t trigger my extremely sensitive peri-menopausal acne. I use the clear one, but they have a tinted version as well. 1
What I’m watching
The HBO Max meta-documentary There Is No I in Threesome. I wasn’t sure what to make of the fact that this was recommended to me by wizards inside my television, but I went with it. It’s about a couple in an open relationship, exploring an alternative to monogamy. It’s an interesting and SUPER honest look at the dynamics of love, jealousy, and vulnerability. If you’re going to watch it, don’t read up first. The ending was so entirely unexpected that I was grateful that I knew nothing about it. Oh, and I might not recommend watching it with your parents or kids. It’s not like I’m recommending porn or something here, but there are moments that get spicy.
Where I am this week
The Himalayan Institute - as my quest for in-person retreat locations continues, I am checking out this yoga center in the Poconos Mountains of PA. With the wonderful news that Kripalu Center for Yoga and Health is opening back up again in August, it feels like gathering in person is just moments away. Stay tuned if you might be interested in doing a weekend retreat with me — we can talk about how to manage anxiety in our post-pandemic world, and eat really good food. These places always have really good food.
What I keep thinking about
I read this passage during my Yoga for Anxiety class the other day, and it’s really sticking with me. It’s from When Things Fall Apart by Pema Chödrön:
“Things falling apart is a kind of testing and also a kind of healing. We think that the point is to pass the test or to overcome the problem, but the truth is that things don’t really get solved. They come together and they fall apart. Then they come together again and fall apart again. It’s just like that. The healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen: room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy.”
This is just the way of things. So, if you feel like you’ve got it together, or if you feel like you’re falling apart, you’re not alone. Give it space. And if you need some support, here are a few resources for you:
And of course, my books. If you’re on a budget and your local public library doesn’t have my books You Look Like That Girl and Not Just Me you can request they order them in for you!
Much love,
~Lisa
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