Hello dear one,
I got back from India a month ago, and it’s been a swirl of sensations ever since.
I won’t write about it—you already know.
The biggest thing I’ve noticed since returning is the impact of capitalism—on the bodies of my loved ones, on my relationships, on everything.
Capitalism. No way out.
It’s a heady word for something we all live inside. But I’m not writing from my head. I’m writing from my body. From my heart.
What I’m noticing most is the pull to numb out:
social media, substances, news, sugar—pick your poison.
And when I don’t numb, what arises is grief.
Non-specific. Ambient. Thick.
I’d rather feel grief than feel nothing;
But what I long for is to feel lighthearted.
That feeling of buoyancy. Softness. Connected.
It’s hard to access in the U.S. right now.
Yesterday, on a walk, I saw a bumper sticker:
“Who’s a Silly Goose?”
My first response? Judgment.
Then I wondered: What kind of person puts that on their car?
Maybe someone lighthearted!
That’s been my big prayer for months now: Let me be light-hearted. Let me light from within.
So…
I’m coming out:
I’m a silly goose.
And I want to talk with people who get it. You know, other silly geese.
Let’s gather
In the past, I’ve hosted monthly drop-in sessions for paid subscribers—support around creative process, embodiment, relationships.
Right now, I don’t want to hold space. I just want to be in space—with others asking the same big, heavy, silly, aching questions.
So I’m hosting a free, informal Zoom hangout:
Wednesday, April 23 at 4 PM Eastern
No need to be a paid subscriber.
Come and we’ll laugh, cry, play, and strategize.
Register so I can send you a reminder email.
Bring a question. Or a story. Or just yourself.
Here’s the question I’m holding close:
How do we stay lighthearted in these times?
With tenderness,
Pavini
You’re a silly goose and I love you. (Thus sayeth the elfin one.)