Meaningful Mud's Monthly Mu - October 2024
"so I set sail in a teardrop and escaped beneath the doorsill"
Hey there,
And welcome to Meaningful Mud’s Monthly Mu October edition. I thank you all for your being here and for giving this a read, a glance or anything in between. It is all much appreciated.
In a conversation with my coworker this past month I was gently arguing my case for the unmatched virtue of personal organization, attempting to strengthen my thesis with the subtle employment of idiomatic language. Eagerly awaiting my opening to organically sneak in the ‘benefits of having all your ducks in a row,’ what rather slipped out of my mouth was ‘the importance of putting all your eggs in one basket.’
And that ladies and gentlemen, captures much of my past month: betwixt and between, fair to frot, lapses in concentration and frightening, full fluctuations between just too much and not enough.
“Close but no cigar!” as my primary school tennis coach would fervidly shout across the court.
In deviating from past practice in curating this little newsletter, almost immediately after sending out last month’s September edition I began throwing my insides onto the page, haphazardly and incoherently. Starkly confronted by death’s fullness, grief’s paralysis and life’s rawness, this seemed the sole stable space to safely hold all I was thinking, seeing and feeling.
Although the majority of these meanderings have been turfed or archived (is there a difference?), during these ponderings I was nostalgically visited by a memory of my 16 year old self, vividly reliving the sensory fullness of these adolescent moments.
It’s summer time in South Africa in all its refreshing glory. For my holiday away I have packed along one of my treasured possessions: a pair of Cheap Monday jeans - faded stonewashed dark gray with shit-cool faint orange lining. Skinny fit. But not too skinny. Just skinny enough. #readytorumble
Each evening, before painting the town red, or by the most generous estimations a very pale pink, I would evaluate whether the planned shenanigans met the scrupulously stringent set of criteria developed to determine whether or not these jeans would leave the comfort of my suitcase and experience the exhilarating adventures of a night out in the salty Cape Town sea breeze.
For some reason or other (though I am certain my 16 year old’s logic and rationale could explain) each night’s potential promise could not convince the powers that be (them being me) that the evening plans warranted their wearing. So after a two week holiday I returned home with a suitcase full of dirty clothes, a clean pair of unworn jeans and a niggling feeling, which I imagine Frank Costello describing as “I smell a rat.”
If only, back then, the concept of mu was somewhere to be found in my teenage tool box, nudging and guiding me to ask a better question!
Yes, Mr. Vonnegut - “so it goes.”
But perhaps this is all what they call growing up and maturing: learning, or re-learning or remembering and all the other ‘res’, because I do believe it’s all somewhere within us, just in need of a little dusting off, that it is always the right night to wear your favorite jeans and never the wrong time; that the special occasion you are patiently awaiting has arrived and is happening right now.
So to you, my readers, wishing you all a month ahead of spraying your perfume like there is no tomorrow, asking him/her out, wearing those socks that fit just right (Aviva, put on that dress, girl!) and “climbing your goddamn mountain.”
I thank you all once again for being here.
Take great care everyone.
Tyler
A Poem for Woody
By Z.A Fouché
the sun in Los Angeles is setting earlier summer is gone eating raspberries with the white mould my avocado is too hard my cactus is dying and I am trying to write a lexus commercial the trucks screech the people scream no body hears there is a spoilt cinnamon roll on the sidewalk and Henry is getting drunk again for the 4th time in 4 days and later he will come ask for some electrolytes the sun sunned last week and now the clouds are coming and everybody will miss the summer but they hated it when it was summer and the beaches will be empty and the bars will be full and then it will be thanksgiving and then it will be christmas and then it will be new years and then and then and then we will get a fresh pint of raspberries the ones you want to eat and the child will laugh and the adults will remember and then they will laugh philidelphia creamed cheesed faces and the cactus will be happy and the family will be here and I will write a different commercial maybe for myself and i will stare at my poems people will be happy people won’t be happy people will think of you people won’t think of you people will have children people won’t get married people will get married people won’t have children i know this Henry will be here for his electrolytes tomorrow at sundown
The menu ain’t the meal but give it a bash anyway
Sharing with you all one of my go-to bowls for times of trouble and times of joy - Carrot Cake Baked Oatmeal.
Amy, this one’s for you!
Ingredients:
2 cups of rolled oats
1 ½ carrots (or how ever many you fancy)
Handfuls of walnuts and raisins
Generous sprinkles of ground cinnamon
2 cups of a milk of your choice
1/4 tsp sea salt
1/4 cup maple syrup/date honey
2 tbsp melted coconut oil
Instructions:
Add all ingredients to a mixing bowl and stir to combine.
Transfer mixture to the prepared baking dish (which has been greased with oil or lined with parchment paper) and bake for 35 minutes at 180 degrees or until the top is an awesome golden brown color.
Serve warm with a freshly sliced banana, a heaped teaspoon of peanut butter and a splash of a milk of your choice (alternatively, top with whatever your heart desires).
Thank your divine and enjoy.
“I am beside you. Look for me.”
- Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, Ghosteen Speaks
Sonic Suggestions
- 4 Non Blondes, What’s Up
If you do not like this one it is totally on you!
“There’s always a sunrise and always a sunset and it’s up to you to choose to be there for it,’ said my mother. 'Put yourself in the way of beauty.”
― Cheryl Strayed, Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail
Thank you all once again for reading and for your being here. It is deeply appreciated!
Please also consider forwarding this little offering to a loved one, friend or stranger and feel free to reach out should you wish to share any comments, critiques or suggestions. I would love to hear it all.
Wishing you all an optimistic October!
Always LOVE reading your newsletter! Thank you! xx
Wonderfully written. Lovely way to start off the month.