the things that move me
I love to feel.
It’s been a while since I’ve had the time to sit down with myself; to reflect; to take a breath I didn’t know I’ve been holding in for a while. I have felt a lot over the past couple of months. I have seen the beauty and transgressive nature of people, navigating a life that isn’t sheltered by parents who hated the world they brought me into. To move me means to ignite a certain fire felt between my ribs, to feel an unexpected heat spread from my ears to the tips of my fingers. I know I am moved when the world slows for just a second and I get to experience what’s before me most viscerally. It’s the feeling that pools beneath my eyelids, where the tension is held before quietly being released once I realise I’ve been holding my breath.
I’m more in control of my life than I’ve ever been before, and it feels good to feel the weight of my decisions. That I’ve got the power to start conversations, relationships, experiences, but also the power to end things as well as I see fit. To walk away when productivity, creativity or curiosity are no longer at the forefront of what’s being explored. And I’ve never been so occupied, experiencing this new phase of my life to the fullest. Meeting the kinds of people I never would’ve thought I’d get the opportunity to meet in such a small period, going to places that I thought I’d have no business going to.
People who feel moved by me, I, in turn, feel moved by them.
The opportunity to discuss my passions and thoughts at length has been eye-opening. Hearing how people perceive me is interesting, as it allows me to uncover the reason why and what may have led them to that conclusion. The opportunity to share my opinions right here on Substack and discuss further in person about my thought process and the variables that may influence a future version of me. A conversation that is yet to be completed, but I’m propelled to sit down and talk at length about one of my pieces.
On that note, referring back to one of my earlier pieces, “the weight of greatness.”
the weight of greatness
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To summarise, I discuss at length why I want to be great, not just for myself but for the people around me. To feel the weight of my influence in the spaces I find myself, I remain grounded in my experiences wherever possible. I bring this up because I’m starting to come into what that means for the current version of me.
I’m beginning to feel the weight of my existence as I move through the world.
As I unpack what that means for me, discussing the way the world moves within me over the past few months has been a riveting experience. It’s been a while since music has hit the way it does for me, where I’ve got the time to listen to the lyrics and embody what the artist is trying to convey. The phases of the early 2000s soul, R&B and funk take me to a time I wish I could’ve experienced for myself or having kwn’s new album “with all due respect” on repeat through my headphones, feeling the sex appeal through the medium of dark R&B that you don’t usually find in queer women’s music. For me, dance is an outlet that I’ve always used to bring out the feelings that music evokes in me. It’s beautiful in its own way, being drawn to move in a way that the basses, the melody, and the lyrics inspire so uniquely.
I’m moved by the way music makes me move.
a playlist of the songs that have moved me
I remember I was asked if I yearned, maybe referring to lesbian yearning, and I responded that I don’t, that “I don’t think I’m all that romantic”. I’m very wrong, because I do. I yearn for so much, for the more that life is. I yearn for connection to the point where it occupies the corners of my mind, envisioning scenarios that I could create with the people I love and am in community with. I yearn to share what I have, whether it be experiences, learnings, time or my efforts—I yearn to give what I can.
On a very long drive back home, I had a conversation with a friend of mine where we spoke about why I feel weird imagining myself writing to someone in a romantic context. I got clocked hard when they said something along the lines of, “Maybe you’re not ready to feel vulnerable enough to expose a part of yourself in such a personal way.” And it’s funny, it’s so easy for me to talk about intimacy and relationships, but the idea of having that energy directed to one person was a foreign feeling.
However, thinking in depth about my response to this has made me realise that it isn’t the process of putting pen to paper, as I know the way people make me feel, and I see the beauty in those around me. I can write at length about the people in my life, even those that I’ve only had a fleeting conversation with. No, it’s the excruciating wait when they’re reading what you’ve written. This is the same for everyone, for that matter. The idea that I have people who follow my work and actively take the time to sit down and read what I’ve written. As I understand and crave the knowledge that others may bestow on me, or vice versa, after the fact. It’s the period where people take in what you’ve read and toss it around in their minds and take a breath before their reply. That’s where the tension is held, for those godforsaken minutes.
Nonetheless, I crave the space I create for myself to write these pieces. I have a chance to imbue knowledge and ideas in the space between the title and the footer. I wish to write to the people I love most of all, to tell them the way they move me that is unique to them. Telling them of the qualities that mould them, and in turn mould the people around them. Not just on birthdays or special events. Just because…
When in community with those I love, I am moved by the chemistry created.
In response to the success of this essay, I have decided to create a shared playlist where you can also add music that has moved you. That has made you feel something and are connected on a spiritual or psychological level.
