Reverence
"everybody's gotta live - before you know the reason why"
As a self-proclaimed logofile (see what I did there?), I frequently reflect on specific words that have stuck with me throughout the years. I’d hope everyone has them - little talisman to come across in books, songs, poems, conversations that tickle your brain. It’s not just the way they sound, but typically the precision of their meaning in a specific context.
Two of these words for me are “reverence” and “integrity,” which are not only words but ways of living. And in the very Big Moments of these past 3 months of… hell in the USA? I have found it even more important to revisit these guiding principles.
This week was a blood moon and lunar eclipse (it was cloudy and snowing in Joshua Tree so I didn’t spend too much time gazing) - but this one in particular asks us to look back 6 months and see what cycle is about to end. What started then that we can let go of now? We’re so close to the Spring Equinox and I do remember saying goodbye to the summer and preparing for the darkness as the Fall Equinox rolled in around.
My mom came out to visit in early February and she sifted through our books to find some local lore she hadn’t witnessed yet. One of them was locating where Graham Parsons’ body was burned in 1973 - inside of what is currently defined as Joshua Tree National Park, but at the time, it wasn’t even a capital P park yet. His coffin was taken (stolen) by friends posing as mortuary workers from LAX and driven all the way to Cap Rock, where they would fulfill his wish.
We drove to Cap Rock with only outdated internet blog posts as our guide and circled the rock, not finding any memorials or remnants of past celebrations of life. I took it as a sign - we are not supposed to find this, and it is OK that we never did.
I think this particular Joshua Tree lore is contentious, and in some ways, it should be. I get it - fans come to the rock to honor him, there’s a climbing route named after him… but over dinner, we discussed the difference between reverence and entitlement to witness something just due to it existing. It feels transactional, maybe superficial. Spectical-izing death. But maybe this is how American culture can try to normalize discussing death, something we don’t do frequently. We certainly don’t treat it with reverence, especially when it comes to women dying in childbirth and children by gun violence.
As visitors pick up and we enter busy season, I’m always reminded of having reverence for where I get to live, but particularly what came before us. These feelings came early on which I captured in this newsletter about the desert and this one about Hawaii.
The latest book club book (to be discussed with the girls on Sunday) is The Will To Change by bell hooks. And while I have reverence for the book club and won’t go deep into a discussion here alone without them, I was taken by hooks’ dissection of integrity. Specifically, the conflict between integrity and compartmentalization. To compartmentalize (which hooks refers to as a core component of the patriarchy, separating out actions from emotions) is to lack the integration of all of your parts, all parts of your soul, which allows for self-compassion.
“Integrity is painful. But without it, there can be no wholeness.”
Compartmentalization can be a form of rationalization or justification for certain behaviors. I think about this in the context of ignoring or turning a blind eye to behaviors or actions by those in our lives that you couldn’t fathom might believe or act on certain beliefs. It is easier to keep the peace, to ignore, than to face the pain of integrating your true values into how you live in all aspects of your life.
One of the Substack writers I subscribe to brought up the known notion of “the personal is political,” a core component of second wave feminism, which speaks directly to this. Something she called out was the way using political ideology (i.e. blaming the patriarchy) could be a cop out that takes away personal accountability. That would be compartmentalizing. Integrating, and living with that integrity, is the first step in experiencing the freedom to show up as who you are and what you believe, even if painful at first.
A few weeks ago I spoke at my college consortium on having a “career” in sustainability. Career in quotes as I only started this work 3 years ago. I hadn’t been back to campus in 10 years but instantly felt like I was 18 again. The temperature of Claremont, the way the sun was shining around 1pm on a Friday, the time in the week we’d all be laying on the mounds (our equivalent of a quad) and listening to music before the weekend. But no one was laying on the mounds. Where were they?
The host of the panel asked what we’d tell our college selves and I said I had a lot to discuss with her. First, to accept there will be mountains and valleys to get to where you might land 10 years post grad, and I wouldn’t change anything - the path might not look how she’d imagine it, but she’d get there. Also to try to live in the moment, which was so apparent with the underclassmen desperate to jumpstart careers and network and take the next step, when I wish they’d savor that time, as I wish I had. It’s a balance of preparing for your future self while spending the time day-to-day discovering who you might want to be.
I drove home from Claremont wondering myself, “how did I get here?” How did I land this life? Not just the lifestyle, the relationships - but the dedication and reverence to introspection and my spirituality which has opened so many possibilities. I showed up to the panel as the only female and unapologetically me in a jumpsuit with my tattoos showing next to a bunch of businessmen. I spoke with Pitzer girls who, out of all the talks, said they could relate most to my own and see their futures ahead.
I smile when I think of college Lily getting a glimpse into her future self. It’s brighter than she might have thought.
Over the past few weeks I’ve also:
turned 32 and found a strong affinity for purple hair (if only my real hair was this thick…)
read a lot, including Rejection by Tony Tulathimutte, which I recommend
drained, lymphatically, which I also recommend
returned to the Troubadour to see Christian Lee Hutson and booked going to more shows in LA
watched “Stop Making Sense” at the Hi Desert Film Institute
With love and reverence,
Lily
Of course, once I got home, I took a deep dive into the life and music of Gram Parsons (the podcast Rock n Roll Heaven--in season 5--was very good as far as placing him in music history). Such an interesting life! I was curious because he was the first to mix country sounds with rock and roll and originated country rock--a genre that I enjoyed in my young adulthood and still enjoy. He didn't live long enough (died at age 26) to mature into real adulthood. Listen to his version of Wild Horses. It's beautiful.