I want to say a HUGE thank you to everyone who has subscribed, followed, ordered my analog post and/or offered to swap. It’s always nerve-wracking putting something new out into the world. Of course the act of creating itself offers joy, and I knew it would be worth it no matter what happened, but as I’ve said before many times: joy shared is joy compounded. Thank you for sharing your words and hearts and time and joy with me.
The response to my analog post made me want to celebrate, but I had a creeping thought that I was being silly. That with my city under siege, and the country crumbling, and the world burning, celebrating a newsletter would be frivolous at best, offensive at worst.
I mention this because I think a lot of us have that little voice in our heads1. The one that tells us our feelings are too big, or too much, or just plain wrong. The one that says it’s in poor taste to be proud of ourselves. The one that worries if we say we feel good about something we did, we’re going to look like an asshole and no one will like us. I know that voice is trying its best to protect us. I know that it comes from some puritanical need to be humble that was passed down to us from generations of ancestors who were taught that pride was a deadly sin. I also know that doesn’t mean no one is ever supposed to be proud of anything they do, but the voice has yet to get any of the above memos. So I sent it another one:
Once that was decided, I realized there was another, more practical issue with celebrating the autumn newsletter: as a chronically ill person, I have no idea how to celebrate anymore. I can’t tolerate sweets or alcohol. An old fashioned party with people and music and talking and games would most likely put me down for weeks. The internet is full of lists of ways to celebrate that don’t involve food (and all of them are on diet-culture type websites, so skip that google search for your own sanity), but a lot of them are equally inaccessible for disabled folks (“Go for a hike!” “Go to an amusement park!”), or are things I already do on a regular basis to (sort of) function as a human being (“Relax with a good book!” “Take a nap!”).
Ideally, a celebration should be something that won’t injure you and is more special/rare than daily/weekly self-care. So, I tried to come up with my own list of ways I, and other folks who experience body/energy limitations, can celebrate.
Buy yourself flowers (hopefully without getting that Miley Cyrus song stuck in your head, unless you like that song ((it is catchy)), in which case enjoy!)
Or, if you’re like me and cut flowers make you sad, plant a flower! Or a bulb. Or a tree. Or maybe buy a nice little houseplant. A cute succulent that doesn’t need much care. Plants are always a good idea!
Make a donation to an organization you care about. I eventually decided to celebrate my newsletter-zine by donating to ICIRR. It felt like taking some of the joy from my online community and passing it along to my IRL community.
Buy something from a local, independent maker. Art is always a good idea!
Ask people to congratulate you. I know, this one is hard. But just like we’re allowed to celebrate, we’re allowed to tell people about stuff we’re proud of, and they’re allowed to be happy for and proud of us, just like we’re happy for and proud of them. If nothing else, if you have kids or pets, you can pretty easily coerce them into giving you hugs and high fives.
Make yourself a card. That’s kind of what I did with these here frogs (which were inspired by the Portland protest frog, and also this gorgeous graphic novel I read this week, but which I now fear are coming off as those old Budweiser commercials, which I’m not going to link to because I care about you and what lives rent free in your brain.)
While all of these things are nice, and I did enjoy drawing frogs (and that big toad), I’m starting to think maybe the best way to celebrate something is to give your attention to it. Really sit with the positive feelings, let them linger. Let them ripple out into the rest of your life and beyond. That’s what the Portland protest frogs (and unicorns, and T-rexes, and capybaras) are doing. They’re celebrating their community, and fighting terror with that celebration. And that celebration, that hope, is spreading out across the country like a giant inflatable hug. That’s what celebration is to me. Not bubble baths or trophies or cake (though I do miss cake). It’s the outward expression of joy—shared.
Have you celebrated anything lately? Was it something big, or small? What kinds of celebration ideas do you have that don’t involve cake or sleep or rollercoasters? I hope next time you do something you’re proud of, you imagine a giant toad and a couple of frogs cheering you on.
If you haven’t gotten a copy of the analog newsletter yet and are still interested, you can order one here! Or send me a message if you want to swap a zine or a handwritten letter (or something else?)
Please tell me you also have this voice, or I’m going to worry that talking about the voice makes me look like an asshole and no one will like me.