I'm Off The Beat. Maybe You Are, Too.

The tempos don't match and the voices are lost and everything feels bonkers

I had this recurring nightmare when I was a kid. I would be having a normal day, and all of a sudden everything around me would slow way, way down, like somebody had adjusted the speed on a record player. People would start talking very slowly and very low-pitched, yet in the dream, they didn’t seem to know that anything was different. They would look at me expectantly, as though I should start talking low and slow, too. I was terrified and frozen and couldn’t say a word. I’d wake up in a cold sweat.

I hadn’t thought about this dream in years, but this past week I realized that I’ve been feeling exactly like someone changed the tempo on me. Only this time, it’s all spinning out of control, and I’m the one stumbling along at a too-slow speed. Except sometimes it also feels like the other way around: the world is turning the way it always does, but inside my brain it’s like Alvin and the Chipmunks.

Either way, there’s no alignment, no shared sense of time or space or rhythmic connection. It’s bonkers in the world, or it’s bonkers inside my head, and I can’t figure out which it is.

I guess what I want to know is: is it just me? Or do you all feel it too?

Photo by Victrola Record Players on Unsplash

Also recently, I’ve been struggling to write— hence my inability to post anything here for a while— and simultaneously I’ve lost my literal voice. I’m croaking through school days, whispering directions to students in lessons and blessing the invention of the pocket microphone during band rehearsals.

A lost voice is a perfect metaphor for the sense I’m getting politically and socially that this wasn’t what we wanted/voted for, but also they don’t want us to speak out and what’s the point anyway.

And it’s a metaphor for the sense I’m getting about A.I. The machines stole our words right off the internet, and we’ll never get them back unless we can convince the tech bosses that we had a right to them in the first place.

Mostly, I ask myself: how can I find my voice when I can’t even find a common tempo to ground me?

Photo by Rithika Gopal on Unsplash

I’m starting to understand the appeal of a single story to explain it all. A religious story, or a particular view of society, or even a conspiracy theory. In a world that’s growing more and more exhausting and off-tempo for the voiceless, it’s so tempting to use a single-story mindset for everything, i.e.: my husband didn’t do the dishes because of the patriarchy.

But maybe my husband didn’t do the dishes because he’s tired, too. Or because he just didn’t notice them. Or because he was mowing the lawn, which takes much more time and energy. And maybe it’s up to me not to simplify the story but instead deliberately look for and choose the generous interpretation.

(Yeah, it’s definitely up to me.)

All of this is exhausting, which is why I am writing a post that is basically variations on the same theme: everything feels hard and wrong, and I keep getting lost.

But also I want to keep going.

And I want to feel hope.

And I want to be loving and kind.

And I want my husband to do the dishes, but I also want to be understanding when he doesn’t.

And I want my stories to have nuance, even if it means I have to try harder to find it.

And I want to connect to you and other people who feel the same way.

So if you’re feeling it too… let me know. Please?

Stuff You Might Like To Know

I’m currently reading PRIMAL INTELLIGENCE by Angus Fletcher (nonfiction) and THE RIVALS by Jane Pek (fiction).

The In a Flash issue coming out November 1 is truly incredible. I can’t wait for you all to read it! If you’d like to submit your true, personal story (500 words or less), here are our upcoming submission calls:

Hey, everyone: if you made it to the end, thank you. You’re one of the good ones, and I’d love to hear what you think.

Despite all I’ve said above, you’ll hear from me soon. I promise.