Sweet release
Exquisite Practice no.4 : A ritual for reinvention, and some lists to spice up the process.

Happy Wednesday! Today’s newsletter brings you an exquisite practice for shedding dead weight—quite literally. And right on time, for a few reasons...
For one, life has been moving at an explosive pace since the last exquisite practice I shared in October. Case in point: in three days, I’m uprooting my life in Vancouver and moving to Greece—a decision made ten weeks ago with very little premeditation. I wrote a whole thing about it here.
The second reason is that we recently entered the Year of the Wood Snake in the Chinese zodiac (a big deal here in Vancouver), which is a time to weave old wisdom together with new growth, and shed skins restricting our expansion.
There’s nothing quite like an international move to ignite both internal and external processes of existential inquiry. I’d know—I’ve made more than a few in my life.
We packed up and moved to Monterrey, Mexico when I was four, back to Vancouver at seven, then across the country to circus school in Montreal for several years, and back at both eleven and seventeen. Later, I moved to London in the UK with my ex-fiancé (a story for another day), before setting off solo on a world tour with Cirque du Soleil in my early 20s. In 2019, a crippling spinal injury forced my unexpected—and unwanted—return to Vancouver, just weeks before the pandemic shut down the world, and all touring productions, for years.
To say transition has shaped my life would be an understatement. For better or worse, jarringly hyperbolic circumstances have repeatedly forced me to become an expert in letting go—of places, people, identities, plans, and the illusion of control. Again, and again… and again.
But this burden hasn’t come without its gifts. I mean, who better to write a Substack called SpaceUnknown? Embracing and cultivating these gifts is what’s allowed me to stop fighting a losing battle with the operatic rhythms of change in my life—and instead, harness their power. And powerful they are!

Now, obviously, one does not live a life of chronic, cosmic disruption without learning a thing or two about packing. Specifically, about packing light. At 31, the entire material contents of my existence can fit into five boxes and three suitcases. One box for tax archives and memorabilia. Four for books. Two bags for clothing, and one for shoes.
Yet even this feels excessive. There lives within me a restless, ever-present striving to shed more. Not just for financial reasons—overseas shipping is extortionate—but for the sake of energetic efficiency. In growth, and in packing, the things that slow us down aren’t always what we expect. It’s not the weighty heirlooms all the time, but the accumulation of tiny, seemingly innocuous nuisances I call “bits”.
Bits are the things (clothes, legal documents, browser tabs, unexamined habits, trains of thought…) that feel too important to toss, but too insignificant to know what to do with. They’re the electronic cables, abandoned craft supplies, and spare multi-national currency shoved into drawers. They’re the stoned, 2am Etsy purchases made on behalf of a fantasy self. They’re the ultra-rare Corso Como era Romeo Gigli tassel coat with baggy sleeves you’ve been meaning to take to the tailor for years. Bits are the stray hair ties jamming the gears of our becoming. It’s not always the boulders, but the bits that keep us stuck.

Since only two suitcases are coming with me to Greece until I figure out where I’m landing long-term, the past ten weeks have been all about ruthlessly unburdening myself from all my extraneous “bits”. Every square inch of luggage space is precious real estate. Nothing can come with me that can’t pull it’s own weight in value.
Part of what makes this challenging is my acute awareness that the person I am now is not necessarily the person I’m packing for. Historically, these life-altering moves have preceded a monumental overhaul in my sense of self. I’m not just preparing to shed a city and the life associated with it; I’m preparing to shed an identity. The objects I bring must not only support my present self, but a seamless transition into my future self. They are transmutational talismans.
This week’s exquisite practice details my process for selecting these objects, and shedding the rest. I share it with you, because you don’t need a transatlantic leap to reinvent yourself—only a willingness to clear space for what’s ready to emerge.
Sweet Release: an exquisite practice for reinvention
STEP ONE: Make time to save time
Bits don’t just take up space, they take up time—moving them, mending them, maneuvering around them. In the rush of daily life, auditing our bits can feel like a drain, when in reality, it’s an investment. For this practice, carve out at least a few uninterrupted hours for each area of your home.
STEP TWO: Dial the atmosphere
This is a ritual, not a chore. You’re midwifing your future self into being. What sounds, scents, flavors, or textures would make them feel truly welcomed? Set the stage. Make it feel like an arrival.
STEP THREE: consolidate the chaos
You can’t curate what you can’t see. Whatever part of the house you’re working with—get it all out into the open, make a pile.
STEP FOUR: Self check-in
Take a moment to connect to your present self.
What do you love about your life now? Why? What sensations do those parts of your life allow you to access (ex. warmth, spaciousness, lightness, relaxation, expansion…)?
What do you not love? Why? What sensations do those parts of your life generate within you (ex. heaviness, contraction, tension, numbness…)?
Look around your space. Which items amplify the version of life you enjoy and the sensations it generates? Which ones feel like clutter, noise, or obstructions?
Now, reflect on your past selves.
Which rhythms, identities, values, desires, and preferences have shifted over time?
Invite at least three past versions of yourself to walk through your space. What items are they thrilled you have? Which make them cringe? Which are they indifferent to?
Finally, turn toward your future self.
Who are you becoming? What skills, capacities, habits, visions, and values shape this version of you?
Invite your future self into your space, and ask them: “Which items actively supported this version of us to take shape? Which ones got in the way?”
STEP FIVE: refine
Use these prompts to whittle down your maybe pile.
Would you wrestle a senior at a flea market for this item?
You encounter this item in a dream, glowing with meaning. What does it represent? Is it’s symbolism significant to your future self?
You’ve been sentenced to life-long exile, and have a two-piece luggage allowance. Would you take this item with you?
Would you feel proud to pass this item down to your grandchild?
Would your grandchild feel connected to you through this item?
The Metropolitan Museum of Art is doing a retrospective on your life, featuring a curated selection of personal belongings from your estate. Would this item make the cut?
How far would you go to restore this item if it were damaged in a flood?
After this item is tragically destroyed, a skilled artisan offers to recreate it for you—but only if you can justify why it deserves to exist in the world. What do you tell them?
Thousands of years in the future, archaeologists unearth this item beside your skeleton. What do they conclude about your life? About humanity in this moment of history? And how does their interpretation sit with you?
STEP SIX: honour & re-home
Everything that made the cut deserves to be chosen—not just kept by default. As you put each item away, take a moment to acknowledge why it’s staying. Does it support your present self? Your future self? Does it bring you joy, ease, or a sense of belonging? Place it with care, giving it a home that makes it easy to access and appreciate.
For the things you’re releasing, let them go with intention. Some items might be perfect for a friend or community swap. Others can be donated, sold, or recycled in a way that aligns with their value. If something no longer serves you, but still has life left in it, pass it forward so it can serve someone else.
And for the pieces that have reached the end of their usefulness? Thank them, if that feels right, then let them go.
With every object you keep, re-home, or release, you’re shaping a space that reflects who you are now—while making room for who you will become.
EXQUISITE LIST
…of exquisite stimuli. Personally selected by my senses, for yours.
READ
Rachelle Robinett of Thinking, Naturally on Herbalism for Trauma
Rachelle Robinett—who’s held a top spot on my woman crush list for years—is the queen of sourcing exquisite healing herbs you’ve never heard of, all while looking like she just stepped off a runway that also happens to be on a beach. This post explores herbs to support a neuroendocrine system fried by chronic and traumatic stress. But if herbalism as a path to holistic growth and healing tickles your curiosity, her entire Substack is well worth the deep dive. She’s also an upcoming guest on SpaceUnknown!
I Burned at the Feast: Selected Poems of Arseny Tarkovsky
The poems of Arseny Tarkovsky—father of celebrated film director Andrei Tarkovsky—are ones I always seem to return to in uncertain times. Having lived through some of Russia’s most tumultuous eras, from the Russian Revolution to the fall of the Berlin Wall, his words linger like gleaming drops of light suspended in webs of darkness.
Something was leading us.
Built by miracle, whole cities split—
like mirages before our eyes.
And mint bowed beneath our feet,
and birds hovered above our heads,
and fish nosed against the river flow,
and the sky unscrolled above the land,
while behind us, fate followed
like a madman with a razor in his hand.
—Arseny Tarkovsky
WATCH
The Lunchbox (2013), dir. Ritesh Batra
I wasn’t prepared for how deeply—yet subtly—this Mumbai-set romantic drama would get to me. It was less a bawling-over-ben-and-jerry’s kind of impact, and more like a quiet, but enduring, ache in forgotten places. Shook. Five stars.
The Worst Person in the World (2021), dir. Joachim Trier
Quirky-thirtysomething-woman-at-a-crossroads type films usually annoy me deeply, but somehow, this one made up for the whole genre. Renate Reinsve—Dakota Johnson’s hot, Norwegian doppelganger—navigates a long-term identity crisis with chaotic charm. The result is heartwarming, hilarious, and devastating in equal measure.
Youtube Channel: Bald and Bankrupt
If you’ve ever craved travel content that combines Anthony Bourdain’s warm, human-centered focus, with David Choe’s reckless, borderline-suicidal edge—Bald and Bankrupt is for you. Or at least, it’s for Austin and me, who can’t stop consuming the chronicles of Benjamin, a bald, middle-aged Englishman with a kink for showing up alone in the places you’d least expect a bald, middle-aged Englishman to be. Places like rural Tajikistan, post-Assad Syria, and a deadly South American migrant trail. True to his handle, Benjamin never travels in luxury. His goal is to experience local life in some of the world’s most forgotten corners—immersing himself as authentically as possible, while connecting with the people who live there. Will boost your optimism for the human race.
LISTEN
Fashion Neurosis with Bella Freud
I was cruising smooth on a fine literary wave before Fashion Neurosis dropped out of nowhere and destroyed my reading habit for the following six weeks. This podcast is essentially fashion hoe crack. It consists of Bella Freud—fashion designer, and great-granddaughter of the Sigmund Freud, father of psychoanalysis—interviewing her extremely cool and accomplished friends about their relationship to clothes. Highlight episodes include Rick Owens, Eric Cantona, Zadie Smith, Kate Moss, Nick Cave, and Kristin Scott Thomas.
Sweet Release: A playlist for letting go
Shed some skins (and quite possibly, some tears) with this cross-cultural journey of musical catharsis curated by yours truly.
That’s it for this week! I’m still in the process of cooking up February’s paid-tier workshop. It’s extremely good—oh my god—I can’t wait to share it with you. The working title is “Wizard Shit”, and since that’s exactly what I’m teaching, I doubt I’ll change it.
In the meantime… stay exquisite :)
— Antonia
And when you're ready for the next step…
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I stumbled upon this post just now and it so made me think of this jewel of a Substack piece of yours: https://www.instagram.com/p/DJJxFE1u0RK/?igsh=MWpxbzd0Zmc5djRrNg==