Tiffany Ten

I spent some precious time with Lovella of Warrior Writers towards the end of the U.S. Social Forum in Detroit. To make a really long story short (I’ll save that for my tell-all memoir), when I talked with Lovella I was on the proverbial emotional edge and was feeling next to nothing other than anxiety during a series of moments that should have been redemptive, recharging, exciting. Objective reality couldn’t really make it into my brain and my body, both of which were reacting like I was in great danger. And that made me sad on top of the particulars, because I’ve been tackling this feeling for a few months now and it felt as if every positive step forward I’d made since was washed away in a few days time.

But what’s wonderful about Lovella is that I knew I didn’t need to pretend I was okay or paint a fake smile on my face that, sure, everything’s great in my life. Lovella is many things–former roommate, artist, long-time friend–but she’s also a wounded healer: fiercely loving people and herself even when it’s rough, teaching writing and relaxation techniques to PTSD-affected veterans of war, the economy, injustice.

I stuttered–”I haven’t been to war.”

She said that she realized in listening to vets talk about war that there were parallels to how she reacted to trauma in her own life. Having read or seen some of the art coming out of this community, I nodded. Trauma is trauma.

Lovella read some of her recent writing and listened to me ramble a bit. I said, “I know I have to do something creative.” She gave me homework that she gives vets in her workshops – “write a list of things that comfort you.”

I couldn’t think of a single thing. And for awhile, that made it worse. To live even a few minutes in this life and not recognize comfort is a truly painful place.

But a few days later I sat down to write a few things that I could remember as “comforting.” I’m adding to the list as things come to me–the process of pushing my mind to dwell on comfort is helping me feel it. Going in for round two tonight I remembered ‘cedar’ – the smell of cedar wood is divine.

Things that comfort me: the sound and smell of rain; trees rustling in the wind; the smell of cut grass; really good coffee; hugs; sleeping in; clean sheets; incense and candles; pretty, dangly hand-crafted earrings; backrubs and intimacy; sunshine; watching cats sleep, stretch, lounge; being near any body of water; the ‘awkward turtle’ gesture; organizing that creates community while confronting power; being verbally affirmed; laughter; short walks in good weather; art-filled brightly colored living spaces; teacups; holding hands; making someone else laugh; crossing off everything on a to-do list; doing chores with someone else and getting help; certain shades of teal, red, orange; feeling sexy or desired; Prince and Michael Jackson; having my hair played with; people who remind me of happy times; dancing to bass beats; talking to wise people; not wearing socks; Son Jaracho and other forms of political and collective art; doing the dishes for a really great cook; clean laundry; clean spaces; being freshly showered/clean; vibe-checkers and others who make sure others are alright; working-class folks; strong women; gentle, softspoken men; sunsets; blue skies; fluffy, white clouds; mutual aid; warm showers in the winter, cool showers in the summer; stretching; feeling accomplished; getting letters and gifts in the mail; funny text messages; ceiling fans!; good-fitting jeans; the IT Crowd; hazelnut; sandalwood; woodgrain; cedar; orange blossoms; flowers; pine trees; the sound of leaves crunching; hot tubs; sparkling water; creeks; morning dew…

This is probably against the rules, but for the sake of processing, a few of the things that often make me feel uncomfortable: the three big “F”s–fear, failure, fighting. Also notable: loud noises, voices, and arguments; being off the ground or at any height; gray skies and dim lighting; ice/snow; being cold; being too hot; being around too many other white people; being yelled at or talked to sharply, particularly by men; being around my mother; conflict and miscommunication; upper crust engagements; public speaking.

Comfort gets the last word: Liz Lemon, cupcakes, lavender.