My best friend Evan moved to London. What was meant to be a quick chat this evening, inevitably turned into a two hour marathon conversation. I lounged on my bed, then the couch, muted the phone to pee at one point and insisted on a FaceTime to see the dogs and his new flat. Two hours later we reluctantly hung up. He is thriving.
Evan and I have been friends since our early 20s. We met at The Williamstown Theatre Festival. On the first day of the program, Evan announced to the dining hall that he’d forgotten his toothbrush and wondered if anyone had one. Generously another apprentice offered her extra but he turned it down as it did not have one of those pebbly tongue scrapers. I was instantly smitten.
My summer in Williamstown, Massachusetts was the turning point of my life.
I’ve journaled about presence quite a bit this week. What it really means and how it really feels “to be present”. So much of my life is comprised of both hopes and dreams for the future and nostalgia and wistfulness of the past. In presence, I wonder if I feel the richness of feelings like joy and excitement, even pain or shame. They’re so charged in fantasy or memory but in the moment, they don’t feel as dense. Maybe thoughts are what give emotions weight.
My summer at Williamstown was the first time I’d known real presence. Every moment felt of nostalgia. Like reading a book you can’t put down. Having a really good dream. Or falling in love. I was the most alive I’d ever been. Sunken into something so rich and so cozy, the present moment. I knew these feelings would become memories and so it felt imperative that I consciously create what I’d recall for years to come.
Wading in the creek, beers in hand, middle of the day. Dirt that was grey-brown not red like Georgia clay. The way Sharon Lawrence’s perfume smelled as I helped her slip out of her jacket during a quick change. Sweet, like figs and flowers. Sitting on the ledge of our three-story dorm, legs dangling, smoking weed, Evan, Gregg and I who’d only known each other a few weeks, lifelong friends at this point. Playing “make-out” tag like we were middle schoolers, warm breezy night on the huge lawn at Williams College. Driving to the liquor store to buy 30 packs of Natty Light, the roads winding and sun dappled. I’d never seen the Northeast like this, creeping streams and old bridges, thrift stores and all-wooden houses, not all-brick like in the South.
After Williamstown I moved to New York City and then to Los Angeles. Sitting here on my couch back in Atlanta, 17 years later, I’ve gathered countless memories. None are as potent as my time that summer. I believe it’s because I was so present and so purposeful, so aware from moment to moment that I was having the time of my life.
During my tour of his London flat this evening, I asked Evan about a pink quilt he’d had at the festival. Stunned that he hadn’t thought about it in years and wondering what had happened to it, I reflected on why I remembered. It was the first place I ever heard Sufjan Stevens, The Predatory Wasp of the Palisades is Out to Get Us! , sitting atop it in Evan’s dorm saying to myself, “remember this moment.”
I think that to imbue each moment with reverence is “to be present.” I’ve certainly let time go by dreaming of my future or reminiscing about my past and I think that’s completely fine. It is so lovely to have that entire summer at Williamstown stored in my mind, held there vividly to visit whenever I want. It’s inspired me this week to sink deeper into my present and enjoy it like I would a favorite memory.
Here’s the list:
READING
All of my old journals! Reflection has been the theme of the week.
WATCHING
In case you missed last week, Slow Horses is SUCH a great watch. We’re halfway through Season 3 and almost done. Tragique!
Time Bomb Y2K on HBO. I watched this as background while scrolling my phone the other day and I gotta say, it was very nostalgic. I had completely forgotten the world almost ended when the computers turned over to 2000…23 years and countless world tragedies later…LO f’ing L.
LISTENING
Sufjan Steven’s, Illinois…for the memories.
Oh my gosh! Thank you to my friends who reached out to me after last week’s post. I had no idea it would cause so much worry. I quite literally laughed out loud while writing it. Regardless, I so appreciate your care, sharing it brought a catharsis that cured my funk.
I’m excited for a week full of fun minus a visit to the dentist to get a cavity checked…please pray my tax return will be abundant enough to cover the cost of a crown. I hope you all have good to great mid-Januaries. This year is gonna fly y’all. It’ll be April (aka Spring aka the actual New Year) in no time.
See you next week.
xoxo.
Beautiful! This was so poetically written! I feel like I was there! And a great reminder to us all to be more present!
Profound: I think that to imbue each moment with reverence is “to be present.”
Reading: my dear friend, Joannie, gave me the book ‘Outlive: The Science & Art of Longevity’ by Peter Attia. Highly recommended practical guide to improving healthspan.