To celebrate a year of the Isolation Journals, we’re inviting you to join us in a 30-day journaling challenge for the month of April. To support your practice, we’ll be emailing you three prompts each week. Then in May, we’ll return to our regular Sunday newsletter.
If you want a little extra inspiration, you can find a daily prompt here on the site.
Hi friend,
Often I hear people talk about fearlessness as if it's a virtue—but fearlessness feels profoundly unrelatable to me. I’m afraid of so many things. I’m afraid of public speaking, driving at night, and my email inbox. I’m terrified every time I sit down to write, because even with something as small as an email, I have this irrational sense that the stakes are life or death. I’m afraid I’m bad at relationships, and that I’ll ultimately end up alone. I’m also utterly, completely, overwhelmingly, and absurdly petrified of mice.
Back in November, I had the honor of interviewing the dazzling Elizabeth Gilbert as part of our Studio Visits conversation series, and one of the things that was so powerful was hearing her speak about fear—and how gentle she is with hers. “I used to fight it,” she said, “I used to think I needed to be braver, and I don't think I need to be braver anymore. I need to be kinder, and I need to be more curious—and bravery comes from that.” Liz said it came down to a very simple formula: We only have to be one percent more curious than we are frightened. Isn’t that a thrilling thought?
Today we're re-sharing a prompt on overcoming fear from Ayodele Casel, the brilliant tap dancer, choreographer, and actor. We’ve also included a clip of a fearlessly liberated improvised dance that she put together just for us.
Still screaming bloody murder at the sight of a mouse,
Suleika
P.S. If you want to watch the entire mind-blowing, synapse-popping conversation with Liz Gilbert (which I had with her in her church-turned-cozy-abode!), you can do so by becoming a paid subscriber. You’ll get access to that conversation as well as the archive of all past Studio Visits.
It Starts with a Step by Ayodele Casel
The first time I saw a tap dancer improvise, my mind was blown. I couldn’t believe someone could express themselves so freely and virtuosically in the moment, off the top of their heads. It was early in my training and I only had a handle on the basic vocabulary. Eager to give it a go, I asked my mentor at the time to usher me into the next level of tap dancing. He said, “It starts with a step.” I made one sound and felt stuck. It was like all of a sudden, I forgot even the little bit that anchored me.
I quickly recognized that what was stopping me from making the second sound was fear. Fear that I wasn’t ready, or that I wouldn’t be as good as I wanted to be. “I’m stuck,” I said to him. He replied, “Just move.” And with trust and a lot of aspiration, I started to lay it down one step at a time. Determined, I learned to love the challenge, celebrate my growth, and honor my time on the floor with playfulness and curiosity.
The art of improvisation is a lifelong practice. When I remember my humble, clunky, and fearful beginnings, I have deep gratitude for the freedom I experience now in my artistic expression.
Your prompt for today:
Write about a time when your curiosity was stronger than your fear. If it moves you, dance it out.
About Ayodele Casel
Hailed by the legendary Gregory Hines as “one of the top young tap dancers in the world,” and by the New York Times as “of unquestionable radiance,” Ayodele Casel is a native New Yorker who began her professional training at NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts. An internationally sought-after artist and a powerful voice for the art form, she was recently featured by the United States Postal Service on a stamp series honoring tap dancing. She has an on-demand performance called Chasing Magic at the Joyce Theater starting today, April 8; more info here.
One Last Thing…
Our prompts will always be free, and all are welcome.
But if you have the means, we’re humbly asking you to consider becoming a paying subscriber. Over the last year, I’ve worked with the most incredible team of women to nurture this project, sourcing over 145 beautiful prompts from the most extraordinary people I could find, and coming up with new and exciting ways to build community. It’s been a labor of love but also a whole lot of labor.
Our hope is to continue to do this work—because isolation did not start with the pandemic, and it will not end with it. More and more, isolation is a feature of modern life. We want to continue providing opportunities for reflection, connection, and inspiration. We want to continue creating with you. Because as our friend Elizabeth Gilbert says, a creative life is an amplified life.
I do this work because I know it works, and it’s necessary. Here, we create ourselves. Here, we write our way through.