♥️
It’s been a little over two weeks since David Lynch’s passing and my partner and I are almost halfway through the second season of Twin Peaks (the notable ninth episode to be exact). It’s hard not to see thematic similarities between it and what’s going on in the world.
For those unfamiliar with the show, underneath the cliches of a 90s whodunnit TV drama, a lot of it deals with ideas of where evil comes from, where it resides within humanity, and how we are to grapple with it, especially in a modernized world. How do we bring it to justice? How do we fight back against the seemingly inescapable dark forces that surrounds us? Both the show and Lynch are infamous for leaving a lot of these questions shrouded in mystery though it does make one thing abundantly clear — we can’t do it on our own.
The show actually takes great lengths in showing the audience just how important it is to have good community and communication within that and how detrimental it can be when we don’t.
It can be easy for us to forget that just because we are all connected via the vast landscape of the internet that we don’t inherently share communion with one another without intentionality. In fact, I’ve been finding myself guilty of this quite often. Doomscrolling through my friends and family’s posts, reacting mindlessly without intention to go deeper — asking how they’re doing and what’s been going on in their world. We often take the face value of what people post and leave it at that and that is where I find myself failing the most.
The feelings of dread and despair can creep up on us so easily when we aren’t putting forth the work to seek community with one another, when we face our demons alone. As the adage goes: misery loves company. In that same vein: joy thrives in camaraderie!
How can we feel miserable when we’re in fellowship with people who genuinely care about us?
Everything can seem so big and scary when we are on our own but in the companionship of others, there isn’t anything we can’t overcome together.
There is a line in that particular episode spoken by the series protagonist Agent Dale Cooper in response to another character who argues whether it really matters or not what evil’s true nature is to which he responds: “Yes, because it’s our job to fight it”.
Whatever your personal belief is, whether it be based in any spirituality or science, we know that evil is out there. Call by any name you’d like: the darkness, the evil that men do, wickedness — none of us can deny its existence. The world very much is in a state of disarray and uncertainty, something a lot of us can’t help but feel overwhelmed by. Myself included. Yet the comfort I’ve been seeking has been in my friends; the community I’ve built for myself not just in Los Angeles, but back in Texas as with everywhere else in the world where I have made friends.
The only way out is through, there is no running away or hiding from the realities of what is happening and what will continue to happen in the future. But we don’t have to do it alone. That is probably the greatest disservice we can do in times like these, convincing ourselves that we have no one. Lynch knew this then, when he was writing this wacky show. Nobody can survive the horrors of this world alone.
Wherever you are, whether we’ve spoken yesterday or in years, I hope you know you have a friend in me. Reach out to others, stay connected in any ways that you can within your own limits. Just don’t keep at it alone. We’re all we’ve got and the light that derives from that is far stronger than anything the darkness can throw at us.
I love you all and stay safe out there.
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always worth noting too that “fix your hearts or die” is known for being said in the show about supporting trans people (also very relevant in these times!) 🌟
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It's been a week since my brother Jacob passed. He was the last person I expected to go—an extremely active cyclist, hiker, and traveler. We still don't know what exactly happened, but in a matter of only half an hour he went from making his breakfast to his heart stoping.
So many of his traits I admired so much felt like things I lacked; he was disciplined, reliable, and energetic. He traveled the world and made friends across the whole globe, it seems. He was always adept at math, a subject I always struggled with.
He was only 18 months my junior. I literally can't remember my life without Jacob in it. At some points in our childhood he felt like my shadow. Since we were homeschooled during the early years of my life we spent so much time together. I took that for granted, but now I'm so grateful for all the hours of fort building, hole digging, camping, biking, basketball, getting destroyed by him playing NBA Live and womping on him in Mortal Kombat.
I really regret simply assuming he knew how much I loved him. We were brothers. We fought, argued, and teased each-other. He was such an appendage to my day-to-day that I didn't ever stop to tell him how dear he was to me, how proud I was of all he'd done, how grateful I was for all he contributed around the house and with the family, and how jealous I was of his fearlessness with change and travel.
People ask how I'm holding up, and it's hard to answer because—all things considered— I am doing alright. The hardest times are when my brain and nervous system still haven't realized he's gone: hearing the creak of a door and expecting him to walk in after a bike ride—his cycling shoes clinking on the tile; learning some soccer news and wanting to text him about it; feeling eager to get his feedback on something I cooked.
But the most difficult thing has been encountering the pity and sorrow people have shown toward me, because that somehow reveals the scope of the loss and the depth to which folks cared about him and care about me. Knowing we share some impacts of this loss breaks my heart. I so deeply appreciate all the offers of help and reaching out, and yet I have nothing to offer. I have nothing for which to ask. My brain just short-circuits.
Perhaps the best thing you can do for me is to let your loved ones know how you feel. Find one person you have maybe taken for granted and share your love clearly so that they truly know how much you treasure them because they won't always be around.
May 6, 2024
♥️
I watched my brother die of cancer at 22 when I was twelve, as well as my uncle of brain cancer and a few other members of my family. I then had a similar type of rare sarcoma cancer that my brother did when i was 20, and I was just talking to friends about this last night!
I think the most powerful thing we can do as humans is understand our mortality. Once we understand that we're just meat sacks with no universal truth beside death, we can exist in a manner that aligns with meaningful connection.
I advise you tell people things you need to tell them, whether you love them or you think something they're doing is not serving them.
Be justified and trusting in all your decisions for yourself because you have to now.
I'm so sorry this is coming as a shock to you so suddenly. this is hard shit to reckon with at first. But just like my brother said while being interviewed on CNN during our MLB ballpark tour raising awareness in '06:
"I live every day like I'm dying"
Jul 25, 2024
🕯
This is a little long winded and personal. Please forgive me.
It's been exactly one year since my great aunt passed away - she was a pillar of the family, a very intelligent and witty woman whom we all loved. She used to cut out stories from the newspaper/ magazines and mail them to me while I lived away, and she had the most incredible handwriting I’ve ever seen. She was, to use one of her favorite things to call me, a “real mensch.”
Less than 48 hours after that, I got broken up with. We had been dating for almost two years. It was the healthiest relationship I had ever been in. Yet, we were laying in my teenage bedroom at my parents house, and she was crying. All I remember is thinking to myself “FIGHT for her you DUMB MOTHERFUCKER, you CAN’T lose another woman” - but I didn’t. I was scared. And just like that, the best year of my life came crashing down in spectacular fashion.
Two extremely hard hits at once.
I had to keep moving forward. I didn’t see any alternative. And as a result, I sank into what I can only describe as my own death spiral. Lots of cigs, lots of booze, lots of work, all to drown out the voices in my head telling me “maybe this isn’t a good idea.”
I didn’t allow myself to MOURN then. To feel sad, to feel loss, and to work it out constructively and communally. Now, a year later, I’m finally allowing myself to feel those emotions about both of those things. Finally crawling out of that death spiral. Mourning isn’t weakness, nor is grief.
Just…if you haven’t properly mourned something, anything, I recommend allowing yourself to. Keeping something like that inside, no matter how compartmentalized it may be, is a bad idea.
4d ago
