Really enjoying the new album from The National (this isn’t surprising).
There are guest appearances from Sufjan Stevens, Phoebe Bridgers, and Taylor Swift, so this is the closest I will ever probably get to an album they all recorded together after spending a few months in an isolated cabin.
It’s not like they’ve transitioned to funeral dirges or lost the energy in their music, but I’m thinking about the difference between songs like Abel and Tropic Morning News. It’s not really a mellowing of a band or the emotions behind the songs, but creating a different vibe. Songs that are less for screaming along to with the windows down and more for vibing to while on a long drive.
Because no matter what, a car is the best place to listen to a rock album. I don’t make the rules.
I haven’t written much here about parenting a non-binary child. Part of that is the urge to roll out a long, all-encompassing post.
So instead of letting that stay a mental block, let me get the ball rolling with one recent anecdote.
Sprout went over to their gym teacher (with some backup from their BFF) and said that it makes them uncomfortable when the class gets divided into boys and girls to make teams or for different activities. Sprout wanted to make sure the teacher knew that they weren’t a boy or a girl, and dividing the class this way made it so they couldn’t fit in.
The gym teacher listened, and a compromise was made that Sprout would get to choose which group they did activities with each class.
I’m always proud when Sprout acts as their own advocate, but standing up to a teacher? That’s a bold move.
And right now, while they’re still young, the compromises and accommodations will be this easy.
A friend brought up the prospect of what’s going to happen once we get to middle school and locker rooms become part of the conversation. I said I wasn’t mentally prepared to think that far ahead.
But I know a few things about Sprout already. When they first shared their nonbinary identity with their mom and me, they said “I don’t feel like a girl or a boy. I don’t know if this is how I’ll always feel, but it’s how I feel right now.” We took them at their word, and continue to do so.
But I do know that they saw us as trusted people who they could come to with big, important things. And in seeing how they’ve approached sharing this identity and taking ownership of it, I know they have a lot of inner strength.
The potential problems they may have down the road could be completely different than anything we’re thinking about now, so why spend the energy on those fears?
Right now we have a child we love, who feels safe and respected with us, and who feels confident and proud of who they are. That’s where the focus needs to stay at the moment. That’s enough.
The topic took shape while talking with Dena about the way that some fandoms seem to be about elevating the character or creator, while others seem more balanced toward recognizing how the show/movie/character/etc. helps fans to lift themselves up.
Even within an individual fandom there’s that tension between the toxic and the transformative.
Look at Star Wars. That contrast between people making zines, cosplay, art, etc. and finding something they can create and add to the story vs. people who act as if complaining about The Last Jedi counts as a fully formed personality.
It’s the difference between yelling “That’s not how Luke’s supposed to be!” and asking “What could make Luke change like this, and can I relate to that?”
If a character or a piece of art gets held up like an idol for worship, it creates that us-versus-them friction. “Either love the thing we do the same way we do, or you’re nothing like us.”
A character or work held up as a mirror offers a chance to see yourself.
Going back to The Last Jedi, I love the ending of the film so much. A stable boy seen earlier in the film shows a small ability to use the force, and looks to the night sky, holding a broom as an imagined sword.
BTW his name is Temiri Blagg, because every being in every shot of every Star War has a name.
His brief contact with the Resistance gave him an opportunity to imagine himself as something more. The movie ending on this minor character in a moment of reflection seems to call out to the viewer: Don’t mourn the passing of your heroes—prepare to step into their shoes.
In looking for simple ways to help stay more mindful, I made an iOS shortcut for when I catch myself doomscrolling.
The problem I have comes when I realizing I’m just doomscrolling, but can’t move myself away. So I gave myself a clear next thing to do whenever I find myself in that spot.
The setup for the shortcut.
The part about it that makes it simple for me: I can just tell Siri the thing I want to do.
Then, I get this:
DND Lock Screen photo taken at a bookshop/cafe in Reykjavik.
Three things happen to disrupt the doomscrolling paralysis:
The phone is locked, pulling me out of whatever app I was in.
Do Not Disturb turns on for a short period giving me a moment to step back and think about what I want to do instead.
A Notification prompts me with a question to consider.
Maybe this will be an effective countermeasure for me?
This Builds Character 
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