hi Reader,
Welcome back to the intimate practice newsletter.
If you’re new here — hi. I’m Shivani, a conflict midwife and transition designer. Welcome to my home.
If you were actually here in my studio, I’d light the beeswax tapers, a warm glow as our days begin to drip towards deep fall late October.
I’d pour you a cup of tea, sweetened with honey from the bees that make their home in our block’s community garden — an amber bottle from last year, a light golden from this spring.
You’d curl up on one end of the couch, tucked between the bookshelf stacked with beloveds and the pieced linen quilt I stitched and left unfinished three years ago.
I’d fold myself into the chair under the little brass lamp, and I’d tell you about how I once hauled it through Grand Central Station, squeezed it onto a Midtown subway at rush hour, to accompany the chair I scooped up from a Chinatown walkup.
I’d probably jump up and exclaim about how I’ve forgotten to water the plants — yet again! — and you’d laugh and remind me: we are all tending to what we can, as we can, these days.
I’d ask you about what is heavy and what is soft, these days. We’d practice a simple little version of my local Quaker meetings — swapping joys and sorrows, witnessing both.
You’d tell me that you’re perfecting Samin’s buttermilk roast chicken this season, about the five-person Broadway show you scored cheap lottery tickets to last week. You’d tell me about your best friend’s school board election run, and your other best friend’s legal battle to keep their trans kiddo safe. You’d tell me you’ve been reading Assata Shakur’s poetry and Mosab Abu Toha’s poetry, these days.
You’d tell me how your friends in Chicago and Portland are so brilliantly fearless.
You'd tell me how you wonder what kind of courage will be asked of you, when they come here.
I’d tell you about how I can’t stop thinking about how different it all could be, these days.
And we would remind each other — we are all tending to what we can, as we can, these days.
