Fluffiness as an act of resistance
Gentleness might be our toughest armour.
When I think of something fluffy, I envision a cumulus cloud, a cute sheep, or comfy cushions. Soft, yet retaining its shape. You can hug and squeeze it, but it will bounce back into its original form.
Calm & Fluffy started as a tattoo idea; a note to myself to find resilience in softness. The newsletter came later, when I realised that what I was doing may also benefit others.
I kept hearing from people around me that these are challenging times.
And I knew it, too, but I didn’t feel it.
Despite believing things are only going to get harder, I felt great in the present moment. In fact, I can’t remember a time when I felt as good as I did earlier this year, despite worries.
The world is full of trouble. Genocides, increasing wealth inequality, growing authoritarianism, and climate change on top, which will keep manifesting challenges throughout our lifetimes and the next generations’.
In the face of all that, it’s obvious to be angry. But anger can quickly turn into a sense of embittered powerlessness. Considering my foray into politics, I certainly wasn’t a stranger to that feeling.
But I refuse to feel bitter. I refuse to carry the emotional burden that is the result of the greed, incompetence, or misguidedness of a powerful few. I can harden in response to the toughness of the material world, dominated by their decisions. Or, I can take control of the part of the world that will always be mine and mine alone.
So I choose softness. Over and over.
To be fluffy like a cartoon cloud.
To occupy my mind with ideas that nourish it.
To nurture my body to foster resilience; physically and emotionally.
I want to be there for myself. To feel agency, despite challenges. And no matter how hard things get, I’m going to be able to show up for friends and to support the people around me.
To be an oasis of calm in a harsh desert.
Something fluffy to squeeze, to make you smile, and feel optimistic.
No matter what.
And despite believing the future is full of challenges, I’m incredibly optimistic about our capacity to confront them. As long as we can find moments to be calm & fluffy, we’ll be ok.
જ⁀➴ for your curiosity જ⁀➴
American journalist A.J. Jacobs is no stranger to life experiments. Previously, he attempted to live ‘biblically’, to show how selectively fundamentalists follow scripture. In his latest stunt, he went 48 hours without AI. Sounds easy, but it’s not. AI runs through everything:
our food supply chains
our electricity grids and water systems
our phones and apps
He had to live offline, collect rainwater, and even forage for edible weeds in New York’s Central Park. Read (or listen to) the article here.
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just penned a fantastic essay titled Healing is making us mean, which reads as a criticism of post-Covid era individualism, abetted by therapy-speak:
““healing” became less about connection and more about control. Less about understanding ourselves, and more about explaining ourselves; justifying every boundary, every reaction, every ~vibe shift~ with a diagnosis.”
ᕱᕱ for your ears ᕱᕱ
Len Faki and Honey Dijon are both mainstays of the underground electronic scene with sizeable followings among techno fans. This week I stumbled upon their track Temple Of Love, released on Ostgut Ton, the in-house label of Berlin’s Berghain nightclub, in November 2021, as club culture worldwide was finding its footing after nearly two years of disruption.
Rather than a peak-time banger, the 10-minute track carries a type of dancefloor-adjacent soothing ambience many yearned for as they spent lonely days at home during shutdowns.