Introducing Words of Wisdumb from Natasha Krause

A new monthly column from idiot and clown instructor Natasha Krause. Natasha will answer your questions with truth, sincerity, and empathy.

Dear Natasha,

In this strange time, how can I create and nourish deep bonds with people outside my quarantine bubble?

Sincerely,

Yearning in Los Angeles

Dear Yearning in Los Angeles,

For the first time in our lives, we are being ordered to stay at home. And when we must venture outside, we have to wear face masks. And if there’s other people around, we have to be at least 6 feet apart. And this is how we, the human race, are banding together to (drum roll, please) save lives… what? Is this real life? Is this that dystopian future that the Syfy channel makes all those shitty movies about? We are currently in a chapter of humanity where “social distancing” equates to “not killing someone”. But without the context of a pandemic, what would you have thought “social distancing” meant?

The CDC says “social distancing” means, “a set of actions taken to stop or slow the spread of a highly contagious disease.” The dictionary says, “the perceived or desired degree of remoteness between a member of one social group and the members of another, as evidenced in the level of intimacy tolerated between them.”

My gushy, poetic heart reads these as two completely different things. The first definition strikes me as binary. The second has room for gray. The first we must do in order to achieve a tangible result. The second can happen when we don’t know where we stand with another person— “Can I get closer? Do they like me? Do I like them?”

And so this brings me back to your question, Yearning in LA. How does one get closer to others when we are being ordered to stay away? I say reach out to the person you’ve been thinking of. It doesn’t have to be with the intention of becoming best friends, but instead, think of it as an invitation to bring connection and compassion into your life. If the person can, they will meet you at your same level of interest and friendliness. And remember— some people are enjoying the social detox.

Like my Croton plant sitting in the window sill, the extroverted part of me is wilting without the water of face-to-face interaction, while the introverted part is beyond grateful for the reset (see picture below). In a similar way I tend to my many house plants, all the relationships in our lives require a different level of interaction for the best nourishment. Some feel good if we blow up the group chat consistently during the week, some make us feel like we can chat once in a while but pick up right where we left off, and some we can only muster the energy to chat every once in a while even though we still love them.

When we do have time to chat with others who are outside our quarantine zone, be mindful of how you feel afterwards. Do I feel listened to and supported? Do I feel invigorated or drained? Do my boundaries feel respected?

Take this time to cultivate your garden of friendships with little gestures. Sow seeds of support by sending a quick text telling someone you’re thinking of them. Trust that some friendships need less than others. And remember to drink plenty of water— because what are we if not plants with more complicated emotions?

Yours,

Natasha

How the world has changed since I wrote these! They were supposed to be in published in May– but we’re on quarantine time nowadays. I’ll add an addendum to Yearning’s answer:

Reach out to your BIPOC friends– and don’t ask for emotional labor. Have questions about how you can help? Google it. There’s plenty of amazing, FREE resources all over the internet. Your social media friends are most likely reposting awesome stuff on their twitter/ instagram everyday. Read it. Donate what you can. Put your money where your mouth is. Black Lives Matter. Do your part and dismantle the white supremacy. Everyday.

Dear Natasha,

How can you tell if you need a therapist or if you just miss having an audience?

Sincerely,

Therapy?

Hi Therapy,

This is not an either/ or question. And can I just say… I love therapy. I love therapy SO much. Yes, I am that person that slips into conversations, “I talked about this with my therapist”. Therapy is fucking rad!

And therapy is hard. Finally talking about ourselves with a professional really brings to light all the parts we’ve been purposefully keeping our heads in the sand about. As Richard Rohr says, “The more we know about ourselves and why we do the things we do, the less impressed we are.”

But you know what? I would choose doing the hard work on myself any day over blindly working out my “stuff” on other people. I love myself AND the other people around me too much to not do it.

Now this gets muddy when performance is involved. There’s a romanticization of dying for one’s art because that’s lauded as the only way to get “there”. Not only is this philosophy unsustainable for the performer, but it sets a bad precedent for others who admire their work. To add even more confusion, the audience can be a worthless litmus test— “But they loved it!” Getting praised for our bad behavior gives a high like no other. It confirms all the negative cycles that are enmeshed in our ego aka our false self. “I knew it— even though this makes me uncomfortable, people like it! So I’m going to keep doing it until I eventually like it!” But what happens when the uncomfortable sensation doesn’t go away? What happens when we don’t have an objective person to unpack the flop with? We are left with a performer who is farther away from their spark that brought them there in the first place.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve definitely had moments of catharsis on stage when I pushed to a place I didn’t think I’d be in. But does performing in front of people fulfill the same thing that a therapist does? Absolutely not.

As Idiots, we are constantly being our most vulnerable in front of a room of people that we don’t really know that well. This makes coming at our performance from the place of the healed adult paramount. It keeps the performer, the other people on stage and the audience safe. And when people feel safe, they can do their best, most innovative, dumbest work ever.

So Therapy, I’d say if you’re curious and looking for an hour of emotional release in quarantine, talk to a therapist. It’s not the Clubhouse main stage, but it’ll definitely make you feel things. If you don’t know where to start, ask a friend who’s already in therapy for a list of professionals their therapist recommends. And you know what? I’m throwing in a guarantee that it will make you a stronger performer and more importantly, a better human.

Btw, did I say I love therapy?

Yours,

Natasha