A Tale of Two Septembers

The month or so since returning home from Austria has been a curious one, characterized by a bone-deep reset of my beloved cabin, which is still ongoing.

Turns out going through every nook and cranny of your home, assessing what to toss, sell, donate, or keep, and replacing everything that’s worn out, spoke to an old version, or wasn’t your choice in the first place isn’t the quickest process in the world.

But good ‘ol grief, what a wonderful one to indulge in.

Layered on top of the great purge, I’ve been enjoying a quiet, soft, cozy, creation-rich end to summer while looking ahead to a fall that’s already done a great job of filling up.

(And arriving early, if the return of the holy rains are any indication.)

In two weeks, just before my birthday, I have an opportunity to debut my sound at a team appreciation campout for the bass music events group I’ve been helping.

My initial plan was to bring a mix, Gravitational Pleasure, that I’ve been quietly building for months, buuut to my surprise and delight, I realize I’ve made enough Siren Jinx remixes, mashups, and originals to play a full set of Jinxian creations.

… Which blows my wee little mind, given I’ve not even been producing for 5 months.

So for the first time, I’ll get to play for more than my cats or a handful of friends.

Aaand playing for the people who make the booking decisions for our shows. 

This is the kind of opportunity I’ve been building towards and watching for all year.

Not long after, there’s the next edition of a local, quarterly group ceremony I try to never miss if I can help it. In ceremony we take a microdose of mushrooms, drink cacao, dance, do yoga and breathwork, then connect over assorted fruits and snacks.

Then I have four “lineage shows” sprinkled through the season, which are what I call the opportunities to see people live who have directly influenced my own music. In this case, Of The Trees, Canabliss, Alix Perez, and Atliens.

Woven amongst all the above is the thrill of everyday life: the pressing business of keeping myself, the felines, and the plants healthy and alive, lovingly honing my musical craft, and the sweet mundanity of dishes, laundry, and vacuuming.

Life is very full, and holds only with what I genuinely want. No exceptions.

Which is a far cry from one year ago, when my previous life was still crumbling.

The final dregs of old income had just left. 

Katsu, my introduction to cat stewarding, died.

Space multiplied. Emptiness bloomed. Stillness suffused my days.

Last fall was very much about letting the loss, grief, and change, compost.

Life began filling as winter settled in with Moana arriving one week after launching my Siren Jinx project, followed by the return of “enough” income in the spring.

Since last September, the journey from a painful to empty to full life has been walked.

Letting everything go with a smile is a gift I’ll forever be grateful for giving myself.

Often we find ourselves stuck with what was, while yearning for what we really want.

The stuckness comes because letting go isn’t easy.

To let go is to step away from comfort, familiarity, safety, stability.

Things, places, people, beliefs, values, identities.

The further down you go, the harder letting go becomes.

And the deeper you go, the more truth you have to reckon with.

But if you want something new, you have to make space for change to bloom in.

The remnants of last year’s garden must be cleared before planting next year’s.

And there’s no better season for letting go than fall.

With love from the cabin,

~ Alexander