What a difference a month makes.
I started March on a dreamy yoga retreat – a privilege to be sure – where I stepped away from technology, reconnected with myself and my loved ones, and reached new levels of calm. My hopes were high that I had experienced the necessary reset to enter triumphantly into the rest of 2026.
Then came a couple hectic weeks, and that connection and calm were swept away. If I’m being honest with myself, it was less the hectic schedule and more my unhelpful and intrusive thoughts about those few weeks. Maybe it was the never-ending winter, or feeling more physically ill than usual, or the state of the world, or a number of professional setbacks all in a row. Whatever is contributing, my internal dialogue has certainly not been serving me this month, nor has it aligned with how I want to show up in the world.
But I always come back, however begrudgingly or slowly, to the fact that thoughts can and do shift. If I’m in a bad spiral, even for weeks in a row, I can find my way back. Case in point – my notes after returning from the retreat, and the headspace I was in:
I don’t want to retreat from or vacate my life. I thought a lot over the retreat week about what makes that time so incredible, and whether those things can be replicated back at home. Adventure? Not being on your phone all day? Leaning into connection? Those are all things that can be done to varying degrees and doses right here in Philly, or in the immediate surrounding areas.
The day after Dixon and I returned, we hosted his (our) parents at the house before my Improv 301 showcase. I let it be messy – the suitcases were still downstairs, the bathroom wasn’t clean, I was still in the shower when they arrived. There is a recent version of me that would not be okay with any of this, hosting family just 12 hours after landing from an international trip. There is no better way to put my money where my mouth is than giving up the veneer of perfection in order to lean into connection.
Nearly 20 friends and family showed up for an afternoon of improv (for many, that would be an afternoon of torture), and then gathered at a local bar to socialize afterwards. Some of us had just seen one another in Colombia, others were reunited after last year’s trip, and others met for the first time. In the hum of conversation and laughter, I felt like I was right back on the retreat. Prioritizing connection, letting things slow down, savoring these moments with people I love. If that’s what makes a retreat the most meaningful, then I can find that magic every day.
A month later, that hopefulness has been harder to access. And while not such a fan of “fake it until you make it,” I did write this letter for Heights about hope manifesting through our actions. Even when my internal dialogue is sour, I just keep leaving the house. I keep showing up, even if it’s not quite how I want to. And even if I don’t know what I am hoping for, putting one foot in front of the other means that all is not lost.
Then, at some moment, the fog clears a bit. Not every thought is part of a negative spiral. For a moment, I notice how much the tiny lilac bushes in my back patio have grown since last year. An idea for a yoga sequence pops into my head again. Momentum builds, and even if the contents of my thoughts aren’t all productive, I can at least take some steps forward.
In another month, my thoughts and emotions will shift again. But I know to put one foot in front of another, and that thoughts are not permanent. And we live on.
The Thing I Can’t Figure Out
I expect an “okay boomer” from this comment… why don’t people wear headphones on public transportation anymore? Being in the city is already activating enough, and while I love the bustle, I don’t love a constant drone of AI-created Tik Tok narrations.
Song on Repeat
I watched “Sly Lives (aka the Burden of Black Genius)” last week. It’s a fascinating discussion of not just Sly’s journey but the pressure and expectations placed on Black artists, and how quickly they are discarded or disregarded when speaking out or experimenting with new types of expression. So I’ve had “Family Affair,” “Thank You,” and “Stand” in my head all week.
The Musical I’m Writing
In a fun tidbit, I started taking Musical Improv with Philly Improv Theater (PHIT) in March! So I am less writing a specific musical and more thinking about simple choral melodies and ideas. In music improv, the chorus of your opening number is the platform for your fellow players, establishing the who, the where, the what, and most importantly your emotional state and want. It’s the most fun (and silly) two hours of my week!
Point of Connection
As we headed upstate for my Mom’s 70th birthday last weekend, finding ways to connect more deeply with parents is on my mind. A couple questions I plan to ask when we are together: “What do you remember thinking about, focusing on, and feeling when you were my age? What are you reflecting on as you hit this milestone?”
Okay… so how do I actually do this?
One of the most effective ways that I have used for combating unhelpful thoughts is evidence. How do I know that what I’m thinking is true? And if the evidence isn’t there (which it often isn’t), I’ll go seeking out more information. That may be clarifying a situation with a friend or colleague that has me mind-reading, or spending time thinking through likely outcomes of a situation that has me catastrophizing. Again, the thoughts don’t go away completely, but they lose some of their power.
