Talk to Fa

I’m thinking a lot about material possessions.

The other day, I spent all day decluttering the kitchen. I’d already reduced a significant amount of clutter in my home over the past couple of years, and I still had so much to get rid of. I put together a donation box full of usable items and took it to Goodwill on the same day. I wanted it gone, out of my sight.

I ask myself which items I really want to keep. I can be impulsive and a bit extreme. Should I get rid of everything? Should I keep some? If so, which ones?

Lately, I find myself detaching more and more from material possessions. I keep wondering what the absolute bare minimum is for me. This applies not just to physical clutter, but literally everything in my life.

When I was little, I resonated with a cartoon character called Snufkin. I don’t remember much about the stories or what Snufkin did in them, but I saw myself in him. I vibed with him. Last week, I randomly thought of Snufkin and found this character description on the official website of Moomin, the cartoon.

Snufkin is a philosopher and a wanderer who enjoys the simple things in life – fishing, playing his harmonica and walking alone at night. A free spirit with no interest in owning things, Snufkin enjoys challenging authority figures such as park keepers. He greatly values his independence, but returns to Moominvalley every spring to spend time with his good friend Moomintroll. Snufkin is widely admired for his quiet confidence and self-belief, especially by the smaller and more timid residents of Moominvalley.

I read the rest of the page dedicated to Snufkin, and I was stunned. It felt like they were talking about me. Decades ago, the childhood me already knew who I was and what I wanted.

I was driving alone on the Pacific Coast Highway towards Santa Monica. The sun was setting on my right. Thick clouds had darkened the sky. The traffic was moving extra slow due to the fire damage. I was feeling this inexplicable ickiness all over my body and in my bones. I was feeling disappointed, frustrated, and sad in a way I’d never felt before. This was a brand new feeling. My heart was sinking deeper with each breath. I couldn’t reach the girlfriends I normally rely on via phone calls. I was crying. I’d just left a beautiful oceanfront home where I experienced sexual misconduct for the first time in my life.

I never thought, out of all the people I know, I would be the one experiencing something like this. I’ve always had a good people sense and sharp discernment. I can usually tell who’s real and who’s not. But this time, I was wrong.

To clarify, I was not pressured to have sex with this person. I received unwanted physical contact repeatedly, despite my verbal and nonverbal cues. My verbal boundary was very, very clear, and I intentionally kept a healthy distance from him when he was with me. But he was drinking the whole time and kept ignoring my boundaries. It’s possible he kept forgetting them due to the intoxication. I was surprised by how a person can misread cues that drastically. What I thought was obvious wasn’t obvious to him.

I tend to see the good in people, and my curiosity is always on fire. My usually positive traits got me in trouble this time. It’s fascinating how two people can see the situation so differently. This one was tricky because one was drunk, and one was completely sober. I drank water and non-alcoholic beverages throughout that day. He told me he was not an alcoholic, but it felt as if he could only relax and be comfortable with me while intoxicated. I grew up around alcoholic family members. They always say they are not an alcoholic. Anyway, he was stunned by the fact that I was content and relaxed with just water. We were on two completely different frequencies.

When I first met this person, I sensed his kind and genuine spirit. I never felt sexual or romantic attraction towards him, but I grew curious to get to know him as a person, as a friend. You might think I am naive, but I wholeheartedly believe in meaningful platonic connections. At that time, he seemed like a good vibe, as cliché as it sounds. But people are complex. They come with layers. And booze reveals a lot about the person.

When I finally reached home that night, I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about what went wrong and what I could have done to avoid the situation. I was already feeling so shitty, yet I kept blaming myself for the horrible experience. This is why so many women, and men, don’t come forward in situations like this. Finally, around 4 AM, I decided to draft a message to him. I described how the day went from my perspective. I expressed how the lack of his awareness and respect for my boundaries made me feel. I sent the message to him early in the morning.

He responded shortly. He apologized for the way I felt, but he claimed he did not touch me inappropriately. He thought we had such a nice day and was upset that this was my takeaway. He added that we are too different, which I agree with, ironically, in many ways.

His response left me speechless. But sadly, I was not surprised.

#stories

To love with all my heart and soul.

Eve

Lauren

Salman

Gwen

Dmitri

#art

I’m loading a car trunk with suitcases for my family. The trunk is packed, and I’m organizing the suitcases like Tetris. I’m having fun. I’m happy to be helping, and my family is happy. They bring one more piece, the old Samsonite I used to move to the US a long time ago. They ask, “Can you fit one more?” to which I say yes. “I got this.”

#dreams

This is a fantastic, accurate description of how I feel about me and all human relationships.

> Watch this video by @joseffinspiration on TikTok

#shares

The other day, I was talking to a friend. He was heartbroken because he and his person love each other so much, but they are not together at this moment. There seems to be so much pain in their dynamic, as much as there’s love. “You can’t be everything,” I said to him. He resonated. It’s been a few days since the conversation, and I’m starting to feel differently about what I said. Why can’t we be everything to the one we love? How wonderful would it be if we could be everything to each other? To pour into each other with all we have? I want that.

#love #stories

A few years ago, I got a cocktail at a bar and didn't get a tiny umbrella on top, like everyone else. My overreaction to the “mistreatment” led me to a homecoming to my essence and a major recalibration of how I see the world.

Talk to Fa Podcast - “Cocktail Umbrella” (S1 E11)

> Listen on Spotify

> Listen on Apple Podcasts

#podcast #updates

I painted this piece in my senior year in high school.

#art

New York City. Old loft building. I enter it through a heavy wooden door. Looks like warm cherry with a reddish tint. There’s a living space as soon as I enter the apartment. I walk into what I think is the kitchen. Instead, it’s a long, narrow room with a bar counter. There’s still a bunch of stuff the previous resident left. The walls are floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. They are filled with old, dusty books. It’s a library. The structure is dark, heavy, and gnarly. Almost no natural lighting. At the end of the room is a small stage where musicians perform. It’s a bar. It’s a venue. It’s a gathering place inside the apartment.

Every year around this time, I dream of this exact loft and library bar.

#dreams