🐥The Paradox of Now #23

Glastonbury Free Press (ish)

Hi people!

This newsletter is all about improving our small corner of the world and it managed to do that within minutes of arriving at Glastonbury.

One of my friends used a TPON business card to get food out of someone else’s teeth.

Not quite what I had in mind.

But technically… still on brand!

Now let me give you a taste of what's coming:

🐥My favourite act of the week
🐥The lessons Glastonbury taught me
🐥What would you put in a cupboard?

🥚Eggstra News🥚

Glastonbury Essentials

🎺The Horne Section – Best live act I saw at Glastonbury. Alex Horne is a genius. Funniest man on the planet right now. No contest.

🧴Bleu de Chanel – A smell so good someone complimented me and it was my friend behind me that was the one wearing it!

👉Finger Pointer – If you go to festivals, get one. Changed my life. Never lose your mates again.

The Paradox of Now

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What Glastonbury Taught Me

Or... 5 things I learnt in a big field with no mirrors, no plans, and a man wearing a Hoover.

Things don’t always go to plan. This piece is proof of that.

It’s Thursday night. And this is the last sentence I write at 9:48pm. The newsletter goes out at 2pm Friday. This is not how I usually work.

I wanted this to be the pièce de résistance. The one I’d be most proud of.

But that’s not what this is.

Just a few hours ago, I was deep into writing something entirely different. Another piece. Another path.

A piece that needed to be written for myself and one that may only ever be shown to one other person.

My mind is not where it maybe needs to be right now, but that’s ok.

This one though? This is what you’re getting.

And maybe, just maybe, this was always the one that needed to be written.

Glastonbury deserves the greatest storyteller on earth.

Instead, it gets me operating at 17%.

At most.

But if this newsletter has taught me anything, it’s that you don’t need perfection to create something worthwhile.

And that accountability is a superpower.

Nobody knew what I wanted to write. So whatever this turns out to be... that’s what it was always meant to be.

So here we are.

No story arc. No polish.

Just five Glastonbury-shaped lessons and the metaphors they dragged back with them.

1) Nobody remembers, so do what you want

Wear whatever you want. Be whatever you want.

At Glastonbury, I saw sights that should live rent-free in my mind. And yet, I cannot recall a single one.

That is the point.

The most outrageous acts, the most eye-watering outfits, the most feral decisions... all forgotten by Monday.

And if not forgotten by Monday, forgotten in two generations anyway!

Be yourself.

Be weird.

Be authentic.

Just don’t be a dick.

2) Avoid mirrors. See more.

I didn’t look in a mirror once during my time there.

And it felt liberating.

We weren’t built to see ourselves all day long. The closest thing we had to a mirror back in the day was a puddle.

Our ancestors never fixed their fringe before foraging.

So in solidarity, I shall not mess with the mullet before moving my metatarsals.

It was a small but powerful ego drop.

Until I got home and caught my reflection.

Harrowing. Absolutely harrowing. But still worth it.

Give it a go.

Ditch the mirror. Gain some perspective.

Be in the moment.

3) Embrace your weird. Celebrate your Hoover.

Alex Horne said something beautiful in the middle of a chaotic, brass-fuelled fever dream of a set with The Horne Section.

He sang about being a paradox. An enigma - while one of his bandmates danced around with a Henry Hoover on his head.

This is what resonated.

He isn’t just weird. He’s committed to the weird.

Fully leaning into the nonsense. Writing songs about Chinese Five Spice. Launching peas into the crowd.

And it works because it’s real. It works because there’s no apology.

Also because he’s a genius. But that’s beside the point.

Authenticity makes everything land. He’s made a living from trusting that the mess of his mind might just be magic if he gives it room.

Not every idea makes it to the stage. But without the thousands of crumpled up sticky notes piled high in the bin, greatness would never prevail.

4) You are allowed to feel overwhelmed

Glastonbury is human chaos.

The number of people, the volume, the queues. It’s a sensory overload.

(Bonus lesson: this is why sensory toys are also great to take to Glastonbury).

It’s easy to feel like something’s wrong with you when it all becomes too much.

But Dunbar’s number says we’re only really built to handle 150 people.

That’s your tribe. That’s your brain’s upper limit.

Glastonbury has a couple hundred thousand.

No wonder it’s overwhelming.

I felt it too.

Panic creeping in while stuck in the stampede with no choice but to shuffle forward bit by bit.

But understanding the psychology behind it gave me peace.

It’s not a flaw. It’s not weakness.

It’s biology.

Evolutionary psychology.

And the same goes for your inbox. The unanswered messages. The unread notifications.

You were not designed for the life we are living.

And that’s okay.

Don’t beat yourself up.

We just need to be reminded of that sometimes.

5) You’ll get there. But it’ll take longer than you think.

If you think it’ll take 10 minutes to get somewhere at Glastonbury, give it 30.

Add in the crowds. The friends who need a wee. The queue for water. The rotisserie chicken someone suddenly needs to consume and then bury.

The weird circus acts. The spontaneous massages received by old grannies in masks.

The destination keeps moving.

And sometimes, when you finally arrive, you realise you don’t even want to be there anymore.

You just liked that one song they did in 2005.

And didn’t realise the rest of their songs are rubbish.

That’s life.

You make plans.

Then real life throws you a path that looks nothing like the one you had in mind.

The truth is this:

The walk there is what matters.

The arms you link (Linky Linky). The conversations on the way.

The way a friend shares the last drop of their water without you even realising.

That’s the stuff that lasts.

So keep aiming.

Keep heading towards the thing.

Just know that it’ll take longer than you expect.

And that’s not a bad thing.

It means more time for the good bits.

More time to walk alongside the best people.

More time to notice that you’re already living the moment you were chasing.

Just slower.

And a little weirder.

And who knows… You may even get to experience a group of wizards playing the piano in the forest along the way.

🐥 Haiku’s Haiku 🐥

He may look like the OG Haiku, but look closer and you’ll spot it.

He’s like the inverse version of himself. Haiku from the Upside Down.

This week’s photo was taken at the Glastonbury Free Press, a real newspaper they print and release daily during the festival.

Just one of the many little touches that make the place so brilliant.

I figured it was a fitting photo for the newsletter.

They both have the word news in them... right?

Good enough for me.

🌴 Palm Tree Euphoria 🌴

A simple question and one which is better left with no context.

Please comment the first answer that comes to mind when completing the poll.

See you next week Dashing Ducks! 🐥

P.S. if this little cupboard of curiosity made your brain open a few dusty drawers, forward it to a fellow duckling who’d definitely hide something weird inside.

Word of beak is how we help improve our small corner of the world.

PLUS… Doing so gets you a FREE gift!