I am late this week, and I honor that. The fact that I remembered to post without a calendar reminder is a miracle. I am very strategic about how I use my brain, and reminders are not a way I use my brain, unless the reminder is not in my calendar — see how that works? This newsletter reads as a public journal of sorts. My cycles of disability are still quite hazy to me however, archiving is a tool to record keep cycles. In February, I wrote and baby produced 8 songs — all of which I am madly in love with and intend to put on my next record and first LP.
Of the 16 Care Ecology subscribers, only 1 is a paid subscriber — folks want the insight yet are either unable to or chose not to pay, and I honor that. I am intrigued by the influence my voice carries and this is a topic I discuss in therapy often. What does my influence mean? How do I continue to be responsible with it? What do I and other people have to gain from my influence? I will respond to these questions in next week’s newsletter.
Care Ecology — the study of social biologies and their relations to their users and worlds that be — a working definition, yet a solid concept I coin here and now.
This week, I leave you with opening lyrics of an unreleased song (1 of the 8) I wrote called ‘Can’t Love You’ — an expression of care requiring further investigation:
“Goodnight what lurks, I got it from here — imagine doors appear. Twilight, be clear. Watching old selves in the rearview mirror. Played your part. Set up to fail from the start. You’re in all my art, but I forgot to memorize your chart.”
Next week, I will share my discovery process of these lyrics as well as how and why a declaration of not being able to love is rooted in care.
Until then, stay in tune,
— xoxo your neighborhood, care ecologist