I recently finished the best self-help book I’ve ever read: “What Happened to You? Conversations on Trauma, Resilience, and Healing” by Oprah Winfrey and Bruce D. Perry. This book was so mind-opening and validating because it connects early traumatic experiences — even just how much you were held and comforted as a child — to the physical development of the brain. It offers concrete explanations for why you are who you are and act the way you do. Go read it or, better yet, have Oprah read it to you. (Her voice is its own kind of therapy!)
This book made me realize how much I’d been gaslighting myself about what happened to me. I grew up with every material need met and two parents who I know loved me. That’s a baseline many people don’t have, and I’m grateful for it. Even so, the implosion of our family was traumatic, particularly since it happened in my teen years when I already felt very uncomfortable in my skin.
Fast forward a few decades, and I’m officially exhausted by my inner life. I will write about how I am trying to chip away at the default thinking and behaviors that no longer serve me. (Spoiler alert: microsteps, baby.) But today, I want to pay homage to what has always energized my inner life — music, words, and culture — and how cultivating those things through people is a catalyst for connection.
This awareness was sparked by an idea I learned about in “What Happened to You?”: whanaungatanga. Before I go further, I do want to acknowledge that I am a white person applying an indigenous concept to another context. “What Happened to You?” talks about long-ignored indigenous wisdom as the key toward healthier humans and planet. The more I learn about native culture and practices, the more I believe this to be true.
, who read an early version of this essay, said it better than I ever could:“If we really want to connect to each other, this earth, and our spirits as authentically as possible, we should actively invest in learning from native cultures and divesting ourselves from Western individualism, white supremacy, and capitalism.”
It is in that spirit of learning, divesting, reverence, and appreciation that I bring up whanaungatanga here. I believe that sharing is an act of love, so this is my way of illuminating what feels like a healing concept.
Whanaungatanga is a Maori practice centered on making and maintaining relationships that create a sense of belonging. It’s about nurturing bonds with family, friends, your wider community, and the natural world — and in the process, strengthening who you are. Whanaungatanga recognizes that people are interconnected and interdependent, emphasizing the value of mutual support, respect, and collaboration.
As Darrín Haímona, Chair of the Maori Reference Group, explains below, sharing is one expression of whanaungatanga.
“There was no such thing that this was mine and for me only,” he says in the video. “There was only a sense that this is what we had, and it had to be shared with everyone. Those were the values that kept us safe.”
But when he moved away from his community into the city of Hamilton, NZ, the first thing he remembers is the isolation that came with living in one house instead of in a place where “every house was your house.”
This loss of communal life isn’t specific to the Maori. It is a well-documented feature of our modern world. The fragmentation of families, individualism, technology, globalization…there are many reasons for this and the loneliness that ensues. Putting on my Negative Nancy hat (see: traits I’d like to change), it can all seem so depressing and inevitable.
But what about applying the idea of whanaungatanga to nurturing relationships coalescing around art and culture? With family far away and friends often busy or not interested in the same beep-boop as me (it’s hard being a middle-aged raver!), I’m finding other sources of belonging via my interest graph.
It feels like my garden is blooming after an extended period of seed-planting and that’s exciting. These communities nourish me and create a sense of belonging. I want to nurture them, support the people in them, and feel excited by these new relationships. Sharing is one of our currencies.
Music helps me understand myself and connects me to people of vastly different backgrounds. Once after a fun conversation about the Keys N’ Krates concert we were on our way to, a Lyft driver parked his car and came to the show with a friend and me. It was his first-ever electronic show, and we even saw him a few times after that. Shout out to spontaneous people like this driver, plus my festival friends, music husbands (like
), and shoegaze sisters (hello ) .Writing is a newer practice that’s helping me to unfold intentionally while connecting me to a community of people who get it. I am so inspired by the creatives I’ve met who call themselves writers without apology and treat it like a sacred practice. Shout out to new Substack acquaintences like
and ; the good souls I’ve met via ’s Foster Writing Circles; and the soon-to-be volunteers I encountered at 826 Valencia orientation last week.Collage is another passion I’m tapping into that has a vibrant community. Instagram is great for this, of course, but Mastodon is proving to be another fertile space for genuine interactions. (Anecdotally, the connections in the fediverse are stronger than at more traditional, algorithm-driven, walled-garden social networks like X and Instagram.) Shout out to
, a collage artist I met on Mastodon whom you can also follow here. Sebene of , Stella of , and Alexis of are other collage artists you should know.
These bubbles of inspiring, empowering activity give me hope that our technology-obsessed society is not doomed to nihilistic isolation. Sure, it takes work, but these examples show how social networks, publishing platforms, Zoom calls, and some IRL elements make a sense of belonging possible. I would never have these far-flung nodes of delight were it not for tech that enables discovery, conversation, and community. All of it helps me live less in my head, find creative angels, and feel braver in the world.
It reminds me of a passage in “Goth: A History,” by The Cure’s Lol Tolhurst (a book that wouldn’t rate with me in terms of quality of writing but that I enjoyed immensely because of the role The Cure had in my self-soothing).
In that book, there’s a quote from Bauhaus drummer Kevin Haskins, who explains the magnetism and longevity of the goth movement:
“I’ve heard many of our listeners recount youthful stories of feeling disenfranchised and lonely, and our music provided a world for them to escape to, to feel embraced by. A secret world that didn’t allow access for their parents, and provided a feeling of connection. A sense of, ‘Thank god! I’m not alone after all.’”
I also like to think of us as a network of mycological organisms communicating secretly via electrical signals. We emit pings reciprocated by beings who help us feel a sense of worth and belonging. Investing in whanaungatanga, enabled by technology, is how it happens.
⛽️ Links filling me up right now
📝 “The State of the Culture, 2024” by
After I saw this piece being linked to and referenced again and again, I knew I had to make time for it. It is a gigantic alarm bell that made me question my relationship to dopamine and to the tech companies to whom I’ve given —and continue to give — so much of my life.
I enjoyed hearing Ted speak on
’s podcast too. It was fun learning the origins of the name of Ted’s newsletter, “The Honest Broker.”🎧 “the heart wants what she wants” playlist
As I said before, I’m digging ambient and experimental music these days. My son Strider recommended this playlist after I convinced him to accompany me to see the SF Ballet perform “Mere Mortals” with music by Floating Points in a few weeks. Drew Phillips from Emergency Intercom, Strider’s favorite podcast, curated this list. I love that my kids recommend such great things to me. 🍎🌳
👕 Manifestation Crustacean sweatshirt
I broke my vow to not buy any clothes in 2024 when I saw Busy Phillips wearing this sweatshirt and impulse-bought it. He had me at “You are what you believe.” Isn’t it cute?
P.S. As I mentioned earlier, big thanks to
who gave me feedback on this piece before publishing. Please go check out their Substack, view from here!P.P.S. I’ll admit this edition was supposed to come out last week! But in the name of getting it right, I took extra time to work on it. This is part of the new permissiveness I am giving myself to not be so bound by “shoulds” and “musts.” As a result, you may see more erratic publishing from me, although I’m still going to strive for weekly. Thank you for understanding and supporting my creative practice. It means a lot to me.
Mia’s Queue is a free newsletter about taste, curation, culture, and consciousness. Expect a new post every Thursday (ish). Each edition is full of links hand-picked by authentic curators who savor the hunt for the Good Stuff and know that sharing is caring. Thanks for being here!
More Mia’s Queue: Eric • Stella • Lesa • Kyle • Keith • Cecily • Raymond • Marisa • Andy • Sebene • Gil • Alison • Alexis • Storey • Meg • Sadia • Kel • Tracy • Theresa • Vasha • Eva • Sarah • James • Adi • Letitia
I love this so much and it's something I have been thinking about a lot in recent years. Visiting Standing Rock in 2018 was a life changing experience and led me exactly to the believe you quoted here: “If we really want to connect to each other, this earth, and our spirits as authentically as possible, we should actively invest in learning from native cultures and divesting ourselves from Western individualism, white supremacy, and capitalism.”
Thank you for sharing this!
It takes courage to go deeper and sharing this part of yourself, Mia. Thank you for this! I hope to foster that connection you speak of through collage keeping it in the spirit of whanaungatanga. We are due for another in-person collage session! I’ll be away in May but I’m in town in April and staying put in the summer.