Notes from 27
For some reason, Adele didn’t write an album at the age of 27, so I thought my take aways might be of use instead.
In 2 weeks, I turn 28. I love birthdays and everything they represent. Carrot cake, wishes/prayer*, assessing how well I embody my beliefs etc etc. I love the years where I can feel the stark difference between my present self and the me that existed 365 days prior — this is one of those years. 27 has been a very full ride; weird and wonderful though at times draining, absolutely draining, but hey, we did it, J*e.
Here are some insights from the past 352 days:
Even with your phone on silent mode, you must answer the call. 27 was a year of trusting my intuition. I was hit with several spirited pangs ushering me towards things I was being called to do. At first (and second and third), I dismissed them, constantly telling myself they had the wrong number, that these had to be prank calls. Eventually, the routine of denial became boring and the ground beneath my feet grew increasingly unstable. Luckily for me, it seems salvation isn’t conditional and the phone never stops ringing.
I’m going through changeeees** As predicted by The Pattern app, 27 led me on an expansive journey that essentially reconstructed my inner being. Layers were stripped off with great force and dashed into a blazing fire. What remained was refreshed by the cool breeze of day and later transformed alongside the seasons as they crawled through their changes. Rebirth is constant, so it seems.
The Art of Letting Go (of dairy) When things stop sparking joy™, there is little benefit in resisting release - this seems to be the resounding lesson from 27. Letting go can be hellish, but being the arbiter of your own discomfort is a hell like no other. Release doesn’t always equate to loss, though sometimes it does, and with that comes learning how not to be a sore loser. Sometimes you need to welcome the empty space that was once filled by familiarity. Regardless of how good your imagination may be, it’s almost virtually impossible to conceive of what newness can enter when your blue-veined grip won’t part ways with the old. It’s okay to let go of cheese/alcohol/people/anything that makes you queasy.
I’ve been reading Christina Sharpe’s Ordinary Notes, a collection of meditations on Black art, memory, love and loss. When I think about the mechanism of letting go, along with what follows, I think of note 198.
A slow burn I always joke about how I can't wait to be 35. Though it’s truly not a joke, the slow parts of 27 allowed me to sit and observe what was taking place within and around me. The changes were well-paced, quiet and constant. There is very little use in providing live commentary, minute by minute as a cake bakes in the oven. Though sometimes it's helpful to vocalise your observations, I now see undisturbed silence as a key part of my recipe – think soufflé.
BFFR Initially, I couldn’t figure out this acronym and spent way too much time thinking it was some kind of configuration of Best Friends For R-something?? When the penny dropped aka I heard it said aloud, I realised how handy of a phrase this was. Delusion is cute but sometimes it’s best to break the fourth wall, to interrupt the narrative and welcome in a healthy dose of reality. Just because BeReal was a flop, doesn’t mean we have to be.
Go Off(line), Babe Blah blah blah, delete the apps, you know the drill.
Live, Laugh, Library Card I listened to a lot of audiobooks this year and through this, engaged with literature in a way that felt fresh and exciting. I read a lot of fiction, wrote a few pieces of work that I’m incredibly proud of, started writing (and am still writing) a play that I love and have been flirting with the idea of writing some kind of book…idk idk whoawhoawhoa.
+ I also perfected my pasta sauce recipe, finally went bird watching, got 3 new tatts, made 4 new friends, found joy in saying ‘no/nah/nope’, moved from my beloved home of Taipei (love her, miss her), decided I love London (but strictly as a friend), landed a job I really wanted and went to the best party I’ve ever been to.
Last week, a 9-year-old said he thought I’d be turning 20 which was cute, he later said I wasn’t funny, so I don’t how seriously we’re taking his opinion. He also used the word “modify” in a sentence and I didn’t know 9-year-olds could do that. I laughed.
Always amused, often inspired.
happy aquarius szn - be weird n wonderful ~~
Listen to: Liza - AceMo Remix by Zsela & AceMo
*same thing?
**The Ozzy and Kelly Osbourne version