Honestly, I didn’t know where this one would go.
I was sitting on a plane last week, New York to Los Angeles. I opened my notebook on the tray table and, anticipating this meditation, wrote at the top what is something beautiful. A minute’s list produced a lot of lame stuff – “bottle-brush plants” and “a great turkey sandwich.” Then “feeling stupid” popped out and I knew it was right; it felt raw. Also because a list quickly spilled from when I not only sense my own stupidity, that dopy-dullness, but specifically the moments when I dwell in feeling stupid and open myself to what comes.
Emotional hangovers. Learning a new thing. Sludge music. Making a cultural misstep. Most anytime I’m feeling awkward as hell
Stupidity is a feeling, not an emotion, it’s not hormonal. And I don’t mean (necessarily) a sweat of stupidity as a result of feeling insecure or low in the self-esteem tank. Instead, those moments of sinking into fluster, landing in the murk and maybe taking a couple steps, hopefully without shame but probably not – moments when I feel insufficient, inexact and low-morale.
Sharing true shit with someone I don’t know well.
Making coffee after a nap.
Being bad at something new.
Fuck me sideways.
Getting lost.
It’s not a comfortable place, stupidity. Stupid is not smart, not witty, not charming. Stupid almost never wins the medal, though I wonder if it’s necessary to get there. Because stupidity may be bumbling, but it’s bumbling toward fascination. It’s a place from which to start, not to stop.
Here’s what it is: mid-forties, I continue to get things wrong, but I don’t judge myself the way I once did. Maybe I’m entering my stupidity era? The universe is infinite and my ignorance is, too. Stupidity is a ragged thing to feel, but it also gets me going. More and more comfortably, I guess I’m good at it.
In tomorrow’s supplement for supporters, 3+ things to love:
Some stylish sports footage that’s suited to the moment, plus great recent reads
A reporting tool that works for non-reporters
Three new albums I’m loving: alt-rock, “broken” techno, and a new release of bebop bootlegs
FYI, I’m in a travel tornado for magazine assignments, so there may or may not be a “Meditation” and Sunday supplement next week. We’ll see!
What the what
Meditations in an Emergency is a weekly dispatch from author Rosecrans Baldwin about something beautiful. Supporters receive a Sunday supplement with 3+ things to love, along with a monthly longer piece sent from the road, for some inbox wanderlust. ⛰️
Books mentioned in Meditations in an Emergency are stored in a Bookshop list.
I’m reminded of Kenneth Goldsmith’s piece for The Awl, “Being Dumb” https://www.theawl.com/2013/07/being-dumb/