An invitation

Hi,

I am trying something new! I’ve started a newsletter.

As you may know, I love to write. I’ve always been the journaling type. You know how when a little kid is hurt and crying, and their caregiver asks, “Tell me where it hurts”... I love to tell where it hurts - in excruciating detail - to no one but myself. Evidence provided here dating back to 1998 (though in full disclosure, this is the only thing I wrote in this journal, but I still embrace this personal credo):

I am used to writing for myself. Recently, I’ve written a few things for publication, and have grown more emboldened to share my work publicly. In other words, I finally give myself permission to call myself a writer. I want to lean into that more intentionally. “That” meaning writing to be heard. The more I get to know myself, the more I realize that I have vulnerability cravings. You know those situations where you’re in a group and volunteers are being solicited to do something like share your feelings or read aloud? I’m the kind of person who will keep their hand down up until the very last second when my hand shoots up reflexively. There’s something in me that hungers for the adrenaline of vulnerability. I think this comes from a primal yearn to be seen and heard. 

Humans are like haunted houses. We hold so many ghosts - good and bad - inside us. By writing their truth, I cut keys for my ghosts, giving them permission to exist outside my body with the remembrance that their home is forever in me. By sharing my writing, my ghosts have a chance to make friends with other people’s ghosts. This is how we grow closer and energetically rooted to one another - by setting up our ghosts on playdates. 

I also realize - at the ripe age of 32 - that if a tree falls in the forest, and there’s no one around to hear it, then it didn’t fall. By which I mean, I openly value external validation. But more than validation, I have come to realize that writing meets its fullest potential when engaged in a reciprocal exchange with a reader. I love when readers reach out to me to share where my writing has landed within them – illuminating truths, perspectives, meanings that I wasn’t consciously aware of when penning a piece. I write to heal myself and make sense of the world. If others can find solace or resonance in my writing, then why not share? It’s kind of like buying in bulk at Costco and then dividing the goods amongst friends and family. It just makes sense. 

Readers equally contribute to giving life to a piece of writing. They say writing is a solitary activity, but I’m not so sure about that. Writing - when shared with others - becomes a call and response type of ceremony. Writing is a tool to highlight and deepen our inherent interconnectedness as equal members of nature. A writer gives the gift of language to convey complex experiences and emotions. Readers give the gift of remembrance that we’re not alone amidst these complexities. It’s a divine exchange.

So, this is an invitation to join me! You can think of me as Miss Frizzle - chameleon on shoulder - encouraging you to board the Magic School Bus. I’m not sure where exactly we’ll go, but it’ll be whimsical, daring, learning-oriented, and fun. Things I like to explore in my writing include:

• Seeing how far I can extend a metaphor

• God, the universe, infinity

• Humans, earth, finiteness

• Memory, belonging, shape shifting timelines 

• the Palestinian struggle, Muslim identity, grappling with the world order

• Immigrant stuff 

• The wisdom and infinite life lessons role modeled by Mother Nature (Yes, I’ve read Braiding Sweetgrass. Yes, I loved it.)

• How mindblowing language, writing, and creativity is. (We only have 26 letters in the English language yet there are infinite permutations of expression!!!) 

• Unraveling photography, memories, textures, and emotions from my time in Palestine

• Ghosts

• New Jersey, fan fiction exploring Carmela and Furio finally getting together, gabagool (I will definitely spoil The Sopranos, so consider yourself warned)

• All of the above

• None of the above

I think the nervous filibustering has gone on for long enough. If you’d like a spot in the bus, go ahead and subscribe.

Love,

Anam