They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. But I don’t feel absence in my heart. And it certainly isn’t positive. If only absence were so tightly concentrated and concretely clear. I feel it in my entire body. And it’s painful.
Perhaps it’s the new emotional attunement gained from my five week nervous system bootcamp but I feel separation from my loved-ones keenly. It’s an amorphous horror that traps me in sympathetic paralysis.
My throat closes up, my chest tightens, my jaw clenches and I gasp for air as I try to stave off the grief. I cry but not freely. It’s a poorly controlled gulping sensation as close to drowning as I can imagine.
I don’t know if it is a sense memory from childhood. But I register the subtle smells of abandonment, loss, and separation with the sensitivity of a hound. I imagine the pain to be a sort of umami. Another taste beyond the two poles of sweet and salty. My pain is savory.
That kind of depth usually means something is coming up from the very beginnings of life before conscious rationality. And I long to struggle against it. I want to fight it off with intellect. I hate the sadness that washes over me, bringing me despair I didn’t know was inside me.
And yet it is there. And all I can do is remember to let it out. I remember to stop the gasping grasping attempts at control and feel my way into the emotions of separation. And maybe then it will find ways to dissipate. The only way out is through.
My husband and I typically like to travel together for work, but over the next few weeks we made the choice to let our schedules diverge to cover more ground on our work. He’s handling a number of American events while I am headed to Europe for portfolio work and fundraising.
Because the logistics of getting transcontinental flights have become trickier, I was in Seattle for a little over 24 hours. I’ve managed to pack more into this layover than I’ve ever managed to do in my entire life. It’s a quirk of circumstances as my body is having a really couple of days.
I fit in a waxing, a haircut, soup dumplings, smoked salmon, two excellent coffees, and walking around Pike’s Place taking pictures and shopping. And it’s been sunny which is how I know the universe delivered me several miracles.
It’s been a beautiful week in the Gallatin Valley. Every single morning on my daily constitutional walk I notice new growth. Very suddenly we went from of melting & assessing snow damage to bright and sunny spring green.
The more northern latitudes get a shorter growing season (in fact we will get more snow) but the season is one of magnified intensity as our evenings stretch towards 10pm before the light is gone. And so on this first weekend of May we’ve begun taking action on spring. Hobby farmers spring into action.
Alex slicing open a bag of manure in our back pasture in preparation for tree planting A man, a hole, and a shovel
My husband and I have no idea what we are doing but with the true spirit of fuck around and find out we began anyway. Our running joke is that Alex is a #ManofAction as there is just simply so much more practically to do when you live on land for which you are ultimately responsible. It’s a lot of fun and very grounding.
And as you might guess the most liberating feeling in the world is being held accountable for yourself and your choices. So even knowing full well you are basically that dog typing on a computer subtitled “I’ve got no ideal what I’m doing” you carry on anyway.
I’ve got no idea what I’m doing Golden Retriever Typing
While I did a few laps around the pasture and helped with a bit of the lighter work my role was mostly to capture the fun and excitement of trying something new. We picked two apple, two plum and one cherry from Starks Brothers to add in after a fall planting of a number of apple trees. We’ve got no idea if any of this is going to take. We’ve read some books but that barely counts.
Our cyberpunk John Deer free of computer parts along with a few stages of planting
Meanwhile inside the homestead I’ve been doing some spring cleaning. I’ve been appropriately assigned gender formative roles as I actually enjoy keeping things attractive and beautiful. The closests need turning over from the wool and layering over to tee-shirts, sundresses, and linens. Alex mostly goes from button downs to tee shirts. Jeans are swapped for cargo shorts. Being a man is simpler.
Winter boots need to be put away and flats, sneakers and sandals brought to the front. Alex had more work gear and footwear as he does more of the outdoors work than I do so shoes are more Alex than me.
Heavy winter oil and moisture rich cosmetics will give way to lighter water creams and ceramides. I don’t change retinols but I may add in more C and lactic acid for turnover in the heat. Alex meanwhile gets away with a basic vitamin C moisturizer and SPF.
I alas have not dealt with getting my hair trimmed in sometime but the reminder that it’s time to cut off dead ends is ultimately a spring time ambition. Hopefully you had the good sense to prune in the winter. My husband is lucky enough to simply buzz his head. Happy spring everyone and may your rituals enjoyable to you.
Spring is in the air. Not in Montana so much as it’s still mud season, but metaphorically. Life is blooming and blossoming all around me after what feels like a lifetime of winter. Everyone in my orbit is flourishing and optimistic about how they are choosing to live their own lives. Which is wild as I’m friends with a lot of doomers.
The cost of an exceptional springtime was quite high. The flourishing is happening amongst those in my ecosystem who addressed their suffering head on in deep dark winters of soul and body. Between the pandemic and the financial calamities in the following polycrisis, people had it rough.
I’m not saying any of that is over so much as I’m seeing people reconcile that life is just going to be bumpy for the foreseeable future. Maybe it was always this bumpy. I gather that Americans are the ones experiencing the most dissonance on a changing world because we had it pretty good for a long while.
But it’s a choice to come to terms with a fallen world. Both in the Christian sense and in the wider “shit is crazy” sense. We still need to be housed and fed and educated and kept safe. Especially if times bad. Maslow’s hierarchy of needs still applies. But if you take care of your own needs you can blossom even in hard times. Maybe even especially. Spring follows winters.
For a little timeline clarification. Yesterday, I woke up with stomach troubles after eating agribusiness salad chain for dinner on Wednesday. I had meetings on Thursday so I took some varied drug store tummy medicines and gutted it out. I even had a very fun time at my meetings. But then as the adrenaline of the day wained I was heading towards disaster. The nausea and had was getting worse.
I realized I couldn’t attended a dinner with some old friends but Alex was fine. I told him to pick up some Tums on the way home. As his dinner wore on my symptoms got worse and worse.
I felt like I was beach ball ready to pop. My stomach was distended so far I felt like I had back problems my stomach pushed out so far. I was tight Mike a drum. The pain and nausea consumed my focus. Around 7:30 or so I called Alex saying I needed a doctor or a visit to urgent care. I couldn’t tolerate it any longer.
I had an hour of crying and praying waiting for it to kick in. I’m sure I scared the shit out of the other hotel guests with the moaning and crying. I was begging Alex to please fix it. To find something else I could take. To do literally anything to relieve me of this horror. Thankfully around 930pm or so it kicked in fully. How do I know?
I was able to vomit. A lot. Seven times over the course of half an hour. And then I was fine. My stomach deflated down to a normal size. The nausea abated. The pain and cramping subsided. Four hours of intense misery has passed with a drug that turned me inside out.
I spent all of Friday in bed sleeping it off. I missed all my meetings and couldn’t eat anything till dinner time came around. I’m having some soup and I suspect I’ll simply pass out. New York is an inside out kind of place sometimes and I’ll just have to live with it.
Objects in motion tend to stay in motion. Newton’s laws of motion work for people in motion. I swung into my day and once a Julie is in motion she tends to stay that way.
I want sure how I would feel being in New York City. I’ve technically been back to the city since we left but this felt like my first real trip back to the city. And I remembered what it felt like to have my days packed. Full of things to do and people to see.
I felt energized. Maybe even just a little bit optimistic. Like being in motion was a worthwhile state to maintain. I enjoyed it. I expected things to feel maybe busier or louder or overwhelming and instead it felt normal. Like I’d always lived life bouncing from one thing to the next.
And to be fair a lot is happening. Balances of power are shifting. Plans are being hatched. People are planting seeds. There is a palpable sense of springtime hope but it’s a bigger than that. People are excited to see what happens next. And a city is a place of serendipity when the weather is good. And I could see some joy in being at old haunts.
We’ve got change on the horizon and some of us are excited to be players in the great game. Which is always a nice feeling. A lot is shifting and changing and we bandy about words like apocalypse and disaster. But maybe we have a hell of a good time finding our way out of this mess. I felt like maybe I could see a sliver of how it might play out while strolling in Manhattan.
I’ve found myself angry for being so fucking stupid. I don’t remember what it was over. Maybe I got confused about some new piece of software on the course I’m taking. Maybe it was because I didn’t give myself more space today to take care of myself.
But I wanted to wag my finger at myself for all kinds of things. I was just afraid because I had to do a lot of things in a short space of time and I dislike logistical pressure. But aside from a few bumps and embarrassing moments I managed it all.
I took a little break and some extra medication to manage a pain flare. I just took everything one step at a time as it was in front of me. I wasn’t a victim to any of my challenges but fully capable and even happy to be doing so right by myself.
I am taking a course on nervous system mastery and today was the first session for orientation. I have a lot of experience in many modalities of coaching, physical biohacking, and family systems work. But the chance to specifically work on regulating my nervous system seemed like a challenge I wanted to rise to meet. Because we all have choices in how we face things. If it looks cool use code JULIE. I’ll be reporting on how it goes for me.
One of the things I’ve done to treasure about Montana is easy it is to hang out with people if that’s what you want. Maybe it’s the community we’ve cultivated, or maybe it’s just the people who gravitate to the Rocky Mountains, but it’s just really conducive to normal unscheduled human time together. People just hang out.
Now sure we live in a pretty special weirdo valley with Gallatin. I’m a child of a weirdo mountain town valley. Boulder and Bozeman remain very fundamentally similar attitudes on life even if in Montana you’ve got way more space. People are friendly and people are weird. The tolerance and acceptance is what you’d expect from a high trust culture.
I’ve got trips to big cities ahead of me. I’ll be in New York City in the coming weeks. It only took a half dozen texts to block my calendar for a full 72 hours in Manhattan. There is surprisingly little room for chill hangs. Honestly I was impressed so many people wanted to spend time with me. But also booking out that time is how New York works. The days are scheduled.
I’d prefer a world where it’s simple to say just come on over. We can do that in Montana. Friends come over. We always have house guests. But in a city I can’t afford to just rent out a whole bar or event space so it’s not like I can have a big gathering unless the weather is good enough for the park. So perhaps that’s just the nature of higher competition venues.
But I will say it’s awfully nice to just have amazing people just hang out and be normal with you. Maybe you go for a meal. Maybe you have folks over for a beer. Sometimes people bring their dogs. And it’s just a real nice way to live. Lots of space to be private and plenty of joy to be found in occasionally being a social animal.
Everyone probably remembers a moment during the pandemic when time lost all meaning for them. Maybe you regained your sense of time as schedules solidified back into the real virtual hybrid we’ve agreed to keep for some of us.
I don’t recall ever getting back my sense of time. It started earlier than the pandemic for me. I slipped the time train tracks sometime after Trump was elected, before the pandemic hit, but definitely during the course of rebuilding my health.
I’ll be dimly aware that it’s a weekday or a weekend if I’ve got someone who needs my attention or if I’m producing a specific outcome on a timeline. But otherwise I’m basically the the grand dame in Downton Abbey. “What is a weekend?”
It is in fact coming up on a weekend. A weekend where I don’t appear to have any houseguests or events planned or much necessary to be handled. I only have temporal obligations for physical care of my body. So maybe I’ll be able to slip further out in time or maybe I’ll align back to standard American work week. I mostly want to sleep.
I think there is this persistent fantasy in startup life that people will always agree with your bets. We forget the discord of every hype cycle but it’s not always clear who is winning and what outcome is certain. Only hindsight is 20/20.
You do get occasional moments of vindication but it’s rare that they ever clearly overlap with a trend or a moment that everyone is paying attention. Media hype cycles and innovation hype cycles are not the same thing. Trust me I’m a pretty good publicist for a hobby.
Your deals aren’t always going to get attention though and a lot of founders want to keep things quiet so you can’t always talk your commitments.
This is a problem that investing has in common with fashion. I earned my stripes making shit cool for money. It’s actually hard. I call it the The Thursday Styles. The problem with tend forecasting is knowing what’s going to be trendy is a temporal bet as well as a cultural adoption one.
It’s a thing happening over time that is unevenly distributed. I learned that from William Gibson. Some of us live in the future but you can’t be too far out because then it’s just you speculating. You got to be right on the thing and on the timing to make any money.
It’s honestly way harder than it looks and anyone who is any good at taking a bet on what the future looks like has to take some variant of this bet. It’s probably why Dune is such a canonical text for nerds. He predicts the future dimly and is also a messiah time lord? Sign me up that sounds like venture capital to me. The sheer hubris of this comparison is honestly nauseating.
Like fuck all the way off you ain’t Maud’Dib. You’ve got to be very skeptical about the charismatic pull of a messiah my friends. That said I bet you’d believe me if I told you I was a Bene Geserit right? Anyways. My point is you don’t always get it right and you don’t usually get to take credit till the end. And mercenaries can co-opt anything. Your shit might hit the skids.
But sometimes one of your deals looks hot and everyone is paying attention and you get to feel like you were cool. You spotted the band. You saw the runway show. The media is hyped about it at the same time and your friends noticed on Twitter. It’s a nice feeling. And yes I invested in the Chroma seed round. I think Jeff and Anton are cool.
