Witness 01: To Read and To Be Read To

Welcome to Witness!

A QUIET JOY
FROM YOU

After a day of urgency
And a rushed TV dinner
I crawl into bed
Too tired to scroll, to read
I rest my head and ask
Read to me?
And with my eyes closed I listen to the sounds, to the words
A snippet of the history of the Great North Wood
(I can't remember it now)
And the words bring distance from the noise of the day
The noise of my mind
Life moves slow
When you let it

Tess, London

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A REFLECTION FROM ME

Welcome to the first edition of Witness, I'm so honoured that you're here! I will of course, note down the time and date that I sent this out and work out the astrological birth chart for it, but until then…

Reading is a luxury in more ways than one. I was an avid reader since words knew how to form in my mouth, eyes, and mind. I found a place in books that felt like the entrance into a new world and an escape from this world. My mum would read to me and it's a memory that sleeps tightly in my heart. Vignettes of us laughing at bedtime, me staring into her soft brown eyes and finding a nook to lay in; in her crossed arms that always felt silky smooth. 

But, my dad couldn't read. He had never learned how to. We offered to teach him but he refused. When I look back on it now, my memories of being read to feel incomplete; because he never read to me. The illustrated pages of childhood books and the blank pages of my journals never got to meet him. I wish they did. I don't have a relationship with my dad anymore, the distance now normalised. In my re-fathering journey, I searched for ways to describe what I needed from him when I was growing up. I couldn't quite find the painful honesty to label it as love, emotion, and support. I just knew that I wanted him to read to me. 

When I close my eyes that's what I imagine. That's what I needed. That's what I wish I had.

It's what I wish he had. 

Because, what a joy it is. To read. One of the greatest. Finding space to read amongst the seduction of screens and places to be; makes it such an intentional choice. Especially when it's not a quick read while on the way to somewhere else, but just time to read, wholeheartedly. In solitude. Full attention. There's nothing quite like it. 

But, the warmth of being read to by someone we love is an extra helping of a beautiful thing. To allow someone to create worlds with us. To allow someone in to soothe us. It feels like it belongs in times of handwritten love letters and friends who write poetry for us. It feels… unfamiliar. Yet, we're only one question away from receiving it. Sure, in an age of sending nudes instead of telegrams, it doesn't feel innate to even think about reading to each other. But, we can ask for it. 

I say, we make being read to a love language. Let's offer to read for the people we love, unexpectedly. Maybe in a voice note to friends who are far away, or whilst sat on the grass before summer dances into autumn.

Let's ask our friends, lovers, parents, family or even slide into someone's DM's with a simple question:

Would you like to read to me? 

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4 Little Practices For…
QUIET JOY

DANCE…
To this song and have a mini solo dance party. 
Sometimes you only need 2:42 minutes to feel good.

EAT…
A bowl of chilled watermelon sprinkled with sea salt, and thank me later.

WATCH…
This with the sound on. 
Did you really think that my first newsletter wouldn't have a panda in it?

TEXT…
Someone you love the silliest compliment you can think of. 
E.g. You're a beautiful, angelic, baby starfish.