On Reconnection
I’m New Here - Offering 12
Hello, and welcome back to the twelfth offering of “I’m New Here,” a newsletter about finding grounding and connection in changing times. And the first for 2025! Thank you as always for reading, and welcome to new subscribers! 📬
As the sun slipped quietly into the night, and as the sky came alive with stars, I felt the hum of my heart as it too felt a spark. The pace of the conversation, which had bounced between those of us seated comfortably around the table, settled into the type of natural rhythm one’s feet may find on a morning walk. At this pace, words began to linger longer in the air, inviting reflection and pause as vulnerability shuffled from the edge of the patio to take a seat amongst us.
What began as an ease with words soon shifted into an embodied feeling as our sharing progressed - a form of intimacy that comes from a place of trust, and ultimately, from a place of love. Like all precious moments, I felt myself pulled out of the moment ever so briefly to acknowledge its beauty, before being pulled back in by a laugh that rang out through the night sky - a laugh which felt destined to invite others in our vicinity at that moment to find their own versions of that same joy we were experiencing.
And then at last, that moment came where one could no longer deny that the evening was coming to its close - the unspoken understanding that the passage of time can no longer be held at bay, and that which has felt suspended in mid-air must return to earth, transporting us back into time as we know it to be true...
The start of the calendar year has been one beautifully full of moments like this - from lingering embraces after long periods apart to a return of rituals with loved ones (“let’s meet at our usual spot, and go for a walk”), it has been a season of reconnection. And in this reconnection, I have been reflecting upon the many gifts that reconnection can bring, in all its forms.
In many ways, there is a restlessness inherent in my nature - I am drawn to continually seek out the new, and resist any form of nostalgic pull towards what has been. Yet after a period of disconnection (sparked by the pandemic, an overseas move, and the general state of the world), I have found myself revisiting and challenging my own internal narrative, and seeing the gifts that reconnection can bring. This re-evaluation began in part by unpacking my long held definitions of connection and reconnection.
Is reconnection a reversing of a disconnect, or a strengthening of a connection? And in an age of “likes, subscribes, and connections”, what does it mean to be truly connected to something or someone?
To these questions I return to the scene that opens this offering - for me, both connection and reconnection come through a feeling of (or a return to) a shared intimacy - a closeness that enables, if only for the briefest of moments, a sense that the rest of the world has stepped back to give you the space to truly experience a heightened sense of alignment with something. This could be to a leafy relation in the woods, the hum of an amplifier at the start of a show, or the hushed reflections of a loved one. In a moment in time in which so much feels ungrounded, and when so many familiar reference points feel as though they are being stripped away, I feel there is a newfound urgency to foster and nurture these moments, both personally and collectively.
What can we connect to and reconnect with that can bring us closer to the futures we look to build together?
In reconnection, we are invited to weave together the old and the new. And when we do this with those we love and trust, we are able to bear witness to each other as we bring together new threads of our stories with those that feel lovingly worn and familiar. In this way, rather than a return to a static and unchanging state, reconnection can provide a foundation to build from, opening us up to new possibilities and the promise of yet to be imagined or experienced tomorrows.
And so, as we begin another calendar year, I have been reflecting upon how I can reconnect with parts of myself, and with parts of the broader world around me. Already, it has served as a welcomed reminder of the abundance that exists around us, even in bleak or seemingly hopeless moments. We are each the sum of all that we have been, experienced, and loved, but also all that we have yet to be. And there’s something really special and sacred in this for me.
I would love to hear from others how you may be reconnecting with things amidst unpredictable times, as well as the intentions you may be holding as we head into this year.
Sparks 💥
To close out each newsletter, I offer a few things that have “sparked” something for me (joy, reflection, pause) - here are a few from the start of the year, on the theme of reconnection:
In a first, much of this offering was written first by hand. While posing inherent risks (namely, my inability to decipher my own writing), I’ve been trying to reprogram my brain to reach first for a pencil or pen before a keyboard. Having recently acquired my first pencil sharpener since I was a kid, I didn’t anticipate the satisfaction it would bring! ✏️
Having largely stepped back from social media as of this month (only LinkedIn remains for work purposes), I have started carrying with me an old point and shoot film camera as a reminder to look up, look around, and take notice. 📸
I recently finished reading Ta-Nehisi Coates’ new book The Message, which finds him reconnecting to his essay “The Case for Reparations” with deepened experience and understanding as it relates to the unfolding genocide in Palestine. While I have his found his interviews and speeches to be the most powerful medium for these recent reflections, passages from the book continue to sit with me as provocations for my own continued learning (and unlearning).