Welcome to the Sandbox

Who I am, what I care about, why I'm writing this, etc..

The other day I embarked on a mini experiment that I would recommend to all of you. It didn’t start as an experiment. It started as a question posed via text to a friend who has known me for over ten years: “What would you say are my Big Things? Like the 4-5ish buckets of things I care most about/things that are most core to me?”

This friend took six full minutes before responding, probably reflecting both on what I was really asking and on the decade plus of data points at his disposal from which to source an answer, all he had seen and heard and witnessed of who I am and what makes me me. Then the paragraph below appeared.

I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting him to say but I felt very seen by his answer. Most of the buckets he’d identified were things that are central to how I think about myself, expressed with his typical thoughtful precision. The last one was a surprise, but the fact that it surprised me felt like an oversight in how I take stock of myself. I knew what he meant by holding my upbringing close and I knew what he meant when gesturing toward my insider/outsider status. It was like trying on a glove you’d forgotten was yours and noticing how snugly it fits around each finger, a sort of “duh” but also a useful kind of self-remembering/realizing, as many duhs are.

I decided the question I’d asked might have more meat to it than I’d initially imagined, and this is when it became an experiment. I texted it to nine more friends.

I expected the ensuing batch of answers to be relatively similar to each other, was sure certain buckets would appear in everyone’s roundups, and was curious if there would be further surprises or revelations but didn’t necessarily think there would be any. I was wrong on almost all counts. As the responses trickled in, it became clear that the answers were both a reflection of who I am separate from my friends and also equally a reflection of who they are and the unique two-way relation between us – how fluidly they engage with certain parts of me (and perhaps don’t engage with others), what qualities/interests emerge when I’m on the other side of each one of them, and how they think about identity more broadly.

It also became clear that not everyone had really understood the question (not that this was their fault but that I didn’t explain it as well as I could’ve). A couple of responses focused on the of-the-moment projects that these friends identified (correctly) as central to me now, rather than the more encompassing qualities/arenas that are fundamental to who I am across longer spans of time. I think one friend summarized what I'd really been asking best when she explained that she’d taken my question to mean, “the things that, if u were a plant, would become the serum upon distillation.”

So, what manner of flora am I, according to some of the people who know me best?

Arts/Writing - Nearly everyone included some bucket which spoke to my engagement with language, storytelling, and/or the arts, both as a creator and a consumer. I’d expected more of a uniform focus on writing, but friends noted a variety of elements and media under the arts/writing umbrella. One person called this bucket “the english tongue,” others mentioned creativity, pottery, bookbinding, film, screenwriting, poetry, etymology, philosophy, reading, and dance. No other theme was as universally featured across responses.

Friendship - The next most common bucket revolved around my role as a friend. It’s no secret that I’m obsessed with my friends and I’ve never understood people who aren’t. I feel incredibly grateful for the deep and long lasting friendships in my life, and I do my best to prioritize them and deepen them further. Loyalty is important to me. Having people I can be totally myself around, who make me laugh uncontrollably and who see me fully, is very important to me. When I add someone to my inner circle, they’re typically there to stay, and that’s intentional.

Candor/Communication - I love and value open communication/candor and seeing a few people include something along these lines in their response was most exciting re the buckets I expected might appear. I pride myself on being someone people feel like they can say anything to without judgement, I enjoy being in rooms with individuals who take strong (sometimes contentious..) stances, it irritates me when someone squashes dialogue, and I secretly (or not so secretly) wish people were constantly revealing deep personal bits of themselves. While I think this bucket has always been central to me, I’ve focused on candor/communication more actively over the past seven-ish years and it’s nice to see others seeing and reflecting that back.

Whimsy - This one is harder to define, and while it feels like it captures something that is indeed core, I still don’t know exactly how to summarize what it comprises. One person called this bucket “fairy island” (the island framework a la the interior islands in the Inside Out movies) and explained it as “the creaturely/whimsical part of your mannerisms and humor,” while another called it “magic” and defined it as “the umbrella for whimsy, your sparkle and radiance, rituals, how you become a mountain goat in sedona, etc.” It is certainly true that I see myself as rather creaturely, probably more than most people, and that I’ve had an affinity for fairies/whimsy/magic since I was a child. I do let my creatureliness manifest in reaction to my environment when I’m comfortable, I do like to cultivate moments of magic for others when possible, and I do enjoy ritual/tradition as forms of intentional meaning-making. However, there’s definitely a part of me which feels.. not a rejection of this bucket but the need to note that my sense of whimsy is balanced by or perhaps appears alongside the value I place on reason, intellectual rigor, etc.

Various friends also cited additional intangibles: audibility (when asked to elaborate on this one, the person said “everything from music to karaoke to making tiny little noises”), tenacity, self-knowledge/curiosity (“expanding/testing, growing, challenging yourself”), and my tendency to “consider the nuance and details in things.” Two people pointed to my culinary leanings (defined as “an appreciation of food + cuisine” by one and “your way with cooking/food/flavor” by the other).

All of the above feels like a fair (though not all-encompassing) encapsulation of who I am and what I hold dear, and if I tried to delineate my buckets for myself, I imagine they would largely feature some combination of these things. The main differences would likely be a matter of framing rather than content, like pulling focus to more sharply outline certain contours over others. The topics above are also probably a decent accounting of what will make up the metaphorical sandbox that is this Substack, the grains which I’ll play with and explore and mold into the little essay-sandcastles I hope to share with you.¹

Now I’m going to extend this sandbox metaphor for a sec, and in the process admit a misguided belief I had that, thankfully, I no longer have.

For the past couple of years, on and off, I have been privately attempting to build one really big sandcastle. I’m determined not to unveil it widely until it’s done, and I’d like to hand you this particular castle in the form of a physical book with a spine that has my name on it. That’s the capital D Dream, and I don’t plan to publish that sandcastle in any other form until I’ve completed the process of trying (and failing or succeeding) to go a traditional publishing route.

This is where I made the mental leap to the dumb belief: that building other sandcastles at the same time would be untenable. There are reasons why I thought this re only so many hours in a day/protecting my writing time/limited energy/etc but actually there is a lot of sand out there, and I’ve realized that making stuff I’m excited to make makes me more excited to make other stuff, not less, gives me more energy, not less, and so on. Also building/playing/writing should be fun, and there are some moments when my big sandcastle doesn’t feel compelling and smaller sandcastles call to me. When that happens, I’d like to start listening.

The shedding of my dumb belief re sandcastle capacity has also coincided with a growing urge to become more public-facing, specifically to smear a bit of my brain on the internet so there exists a repository of who I am out there, and in increasing my virtual surface area, to increase as well the possibility that others who care about the things I care about might find me, might engage with me, might have another “in” to me and my ideas beyond my irl presence. Very often, I read someone else’s stuff and it makes me more excited to get to know them and/or to read more of their stuff, and I am, perhaps selfishly, hoping that may happen too. Finally, in light of how important writing is to me, it seems a little silly that until now, when people have asked where they can read something I’ve written (a question I get kind of a lot), I’ve had nowhere to direct them.

Starting an unlocked twitter over the summer after eight-ish years of only having a private one was a good step in the be-seen-online direction, and has been a nice way to connect with new people. But sometimes you do need more than 280 characters at a time.

So, welcome to this Substack, my virtual sandbox. I hope you’ll take a closer look at the sandcastles that seem interesting to you as I post them. There’s enough sand to go around, and I’ve got extra shovels.

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N.B. Yes, I’m well aware of the paradox between wanting to be seen on here and not putting my name on this newsletter. Perhaps I’ll rebrand and un-anonymize as I get my feet wet, but for now, if you don’t already know me, unlock my name/additional details via dm if you are so compelled.

1. I insist on the “probably” caveat here because the engine that drives my content will ultimately be whatever feels urgent and interesting to me, whether those things fall into these buckets or not. I intend to develop in many directions. And my buckets will inevitably evolve as I do.