What Moved Me, No. 1

This is a new kind of post for me. No framework, no verse, no lesson. Just a short list of things that made me stop, feel, and look again, shared the way I’d share them with a friend. That’s the only editorial standard, really.

Not “the best of” anything. Not things I think you need.

Just things that moved me. Past or present.

This time, it’s a live set, a video essay, and a dance with shadows.

This week I came across a live set, one night in Mexico City. And it’s been playing on repeat for me ever since.

It’s a candid piece with four musicians jamming out, truly loving what they do, shot impressively in one go. For all cinema nerds reading, you know how hard this is. It starts off slow, small, and dark and eventually fills the entire stadium in ethereal light, where figures appear into the frame as if out of the mist.

It’s a sonic journey and a feast for the eyes. A dance of shadow and light.

Fred Again is the Brit who’s smiling like a maniac and never gets up from the keyboard. He’s one of my favorite artists and I found him during the final set of Coachella festival 2023, right before my world turned upside down. His talent of blending spoken word with melody inspires me to one day produce music of my own.

I refer a lot to modernity and how it constantly overfills our cup. But what exactly is “modernity”? And how did it come about?

On the drive to my four-day nature solo this week, I found this video essay by Jiang Xueqin on exactly that question. In just one hour, he presents a sweeping argument that modern life has mistaken endless self-discovery for freedom, when meaning and liberation may only be possible through our bonds with other people.

His central thesis is powerful:

Freedom is not the removal of every obligation.

Freedom only becomes meaningful through relationship, recognition, care, and shared life.

The more I immerse myself in nature, the more I see this to be true. Not just in our relationships with other humans, but with the greater natural world.

This piece moved me to dance at dusk on day two of my nature solo - next to Brother Tree, the weathered Jeffrey pine that’s witnessed countless passersby over many seasons on this barren rock.

Haunting. Echoey. Vast.

The title felt fitting as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon and the shadows lengthened.

And for a few minutes, I moved with them.

-S

p.s. I look forward to sharing what transpired during my nature solo tomorrow on our Sunday Reflections livestream at 8am PT: