Hey,
Falmouth’s been good to me, so far.
I’m on the coast, so I get sea mist and cliffside walks.
There are beautiful running routes and traffic-free trails.
And there are a lot of people doing soulful, purposeful, connective things.
I had, no exaggerating, a life-changing lymphatic drainage massage with Erin Dale a few weeks ago. (It’s not as brutal or yucky as it sounds, I promise.) I’m into a routine of shopping at un_rap (zero waste) and The Natural Store (organic/health foods) for most of our food. I’ve got a few coffee shop haunts.
More than anything, though, I’m loving the people here. And it’s not like they’ve done anything extraordinary, it’s small acts that go a long way to helping me feel settled and set in a place. A wave hello from a familiar face, a loyalty card with extra stamps, having somebody recognise me and greet me by name.
I spend a lot of time thinking about what community looks like and means. I’m thrown in and out of it a lot in this nomadic lifestyle — sometimes seeking it, sometimes pushing up against it.
Something that I’m just starting to realise, to sit with and know in a deeper way, is that a lot of what I’ve been calling community is just relatedness. As in: feeling related to a place and the people in it, and feeling both relate back to me. It’s a dance, a symbiosis. And it’s not really that complicated.
No man is an island, I know, but I’m always surprised by just how little it takes for me to feel like I’ve got everything I need. A place that speaks to me, the means to manoeuvre myself through it, and other people experiencing it in a similar way. The rest emerges — and it’s usually beautiful.
Need a little help moving slower?
Ease your way out of Friday afternoon with this newsletter, a nice cup of something, and a little background music. Steal my setup if you aren't sure where to start.
After I press send, I’m going to enjoy a cup of Olfactory Coffee’s Steadfast roast. Falmouth-based and Falmouth-bought, I got these particular beans unpackaged from un_rap. Rock up with a container, fill up with fresh coffee, and head home. Highly recommended, regardless of the packaging you choose.
With your brew in hand, I would really really love for you to take seven minutes and thirty nine seconds to listen to some music with me. First up, the studio version of runnner’s bike again. It’s delicate, reflective, and plaintive. What pictures do you paint in your mind as you listen? What does it evoke?
Now, watch Noah perform the same song for La Blogotheque.
I love his music, I love Bristol, and I love the soft haze that covers this video. It brings the song into new lights and shades, textures it and gives it even more resonance than before. I’d love to know what you think of it, as runnner is becoming one of my sacred artists.
(Be careful on their channel — there are so many amazing performances from so many wonderful musicians you could end up losing a day or two in the annals!)
Take it easy,