It's the coming together like we might with our partner, or with the partner we longed for, or the partner we miss. This is being with each other in care. This is being with each other like we care. This is being with each other beyond care. This is being with each other in trust. This is trusting each other.

This is meeting in places where we can do things. A dance studio, a music studio, a living room. Outside in nature. This is about finding each other and coming as you are.

This isn't about the future. And this isn't in a way about the ever-present pressure that we live under. It's exactly a retreat. It's more about the past. It's more about remembering. Remembering the thing that we never have time to remember but we always feel. The thing that we want: unity, togetherness, care, empowerment, depth, getting real, joy, unguarded playfulness.

It's very romantic.

It's time to, I think, take romance out of the little boxes. So many of our dreams, our hopes, our aspirations are bound up in these plans, These plans that are confined by and defined by the world that we live in. And the world that we live in, it's a bad place. I don't mean the world you live in inside you. I don't live in a bad place most of the time. Sometimes I do. But the world around me, the world of work and needing to prove oneself, of needing to ignore so much that doesn't feel right in order to extract a little bit that we can believe in.

This is a retreat from all of that. But it's not for just a weekend, nor is it for a lifetime, because nobody can do that. The world is the way it is. So I think it's for three months. It's as if we were a band or we were forming a band. Yeah, like we're forming a band. But to do a project. And then the project will be finished after three months. We could do another project. But this project would be for three months.

And we would, let's say, practice every week. Maybe on Sunday. Maybe all day. Maybe for two hours. Maybe some people come all day. Only some people come a couple hours. Maybe sometimes you can't make it. It's okay, it's a jam. But we are practicing.

We're practicing for something that needs practice. Being together in different ways. The different ways. The ways that are not always confined by or heading towards going back home. But find home where we are with each other.

And it's not two people. Maybe sometimes. It's a group. It's not a collective though, I think. The collective is too confined by some sort of sense that it needs to hold up against the rote individualism that is defining of this terrible world I speak of. And I don't think it can.

I think that what we need is the practice of taking a break. Call it pleasure activism. Call it radical rest. I want to be with you in a way that unveils more than is found in just standing at my feet with a glass of wine at a house party. Or I want that conversation to continue a day or a week later and for another week after that until we get beneath all the signifiers and gestures and trust-building, to trust and to care.

And we start to exchange actual information about our hearts and our minds and we find inspiration in that and depth and promise and we might find a different kind of future we might find the ability to think about the future together.

That's my dream.