Issue No. 002: MISSED AMERICAN DREAMS: A No Newsletter

Lucy Shelby

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MISSED AMERICAN DREAMS

A NO NEWSLETTER SERIES

ISSUE NO. 002 | STILL JULY 2026

PHOTO CREDIT:

Not mine. I forgot to take a picture of this precious tree, that I yammer on about in the NO NEWSLETTER. If you read you'll understand. 

HELLO AGAIN!!

HERE WE GO, #2, A WEEK LATE!

DEAR SUBSCRIBERS, MAINLY MY MOM,

I give you my 2nd official, now bi- monthly, NO NEWSLETTER: Missed American Dreams, for short MAD Letter. Haha, I just discovered the acronym for Missed American Dreams is MAD. Wild, you can’t make that up, too perfect.  

If you are new here, welcome. You can check out my first letter on my blog. Yes I guess that is still a thing. Great word. 

Let’s dive in. I wrote this with my back against a sycamore tree in Mcgolrick Park. 

One may say, just like Shirley Maclaine said to Bikram Choudray in 1974. “You can’t run an American Yoga School in the way you ran one in India. You must CHARGE!” He began charging—after which attendance grew immediately. (quote from Wikipedia and every Bikram teacher you’ve ever met). Though one may also say Bikram Choudray is a charged felon and has fled the United States. To be clear I do not blame beloved Shirley Maclane, Oscar winner in the 80’s, who played Ouiser in Steel Magnolias, also starring Julia Roberts and Sally Fields, AND Olympia Dukakis, who I had the privilege of studying Chekov with. I digress, wasn't my intention, but I do love a weaved in moment to brag. Just watch Steel Magnolias, you’ll see the appeal. Also, I have a history of being star struck by actresses nobody really knows, except maybe your grandma. 

Anywho. I don’t blame Shirley for Bikram’s demise. He did that to himself.. But I would consider this a perfect example of a Missed American Dream. I bring this up because there is a voice in my head, along with external voices, one from, let’s call him a fan, and two, from a past mentor. It says, “you can’t just send your writing out for free”. 

Well, did you ever consider what it costs me to feel like I have to monetize everything in the world that I love. 

When I was in Bali, another brag.

Every morning the Frangipani tree gifted us flowers. We would put them in our hair, the Balinese people create offerings with them and adorn plates. There was an abundance of Frangipani flowers, everyday! And I never thought this tree is devaluing itself. It’s being a bit loose if you ask me. It’ll never find a respectable mate that values it. This tree has no self respect. It is going to go bankrupt and no one will respect or value its flowers anymore. Tree, you need to charge and charge a lot in order to be valued. And in fact you giving all your flowers so abundantly for free is devaluing all the other flowers and plants in the jungle. You are selfish and entitled. And ruining the plant economy. CAN YOU IMAGINE! 

Also, have you ever been in this situation? So you slowly start to charge more and before you know it, the very thing that is free and natural to our bodies is a billion dollar wellness industry. The very thing that you deemed sacred because it is a part of nature and your very nature has prison bars around it and no one, not even you can access it. 

Well, I went dark. The good news is, which is ironic, because that phrase is something that I learned from Bikram, but can’t seem to shake. Thus, the good news is: Frangipani flowers are the most famous flowers out there. She is used for Hawaiian Leis, she is integral to Balinese culture and offerings. Her image is even reproduced and sold in stores with barrets. I used to wear one every day during my 9 week Bikram Yoga training in Hawaii in 2007. 

She is one of the most iconic and preciously revered and loved flowers in the world. 

Everyday in Bali we would excitedly lay at her feet reveling in gratitude that she yet again showered us with so many gifts. 

And I am not saying do not charge, and everything should be free. Because it isn’t. Frangipani flowers are not free. They cost sunlight, rain, healthy soil, and a nurturing environment. If I brought that very tree to my roof pit (that’s my makeshift outdoor space) in Brooklyn and placed her here. She would immediately die. One because If I did that I would be a dufus and I clearly have no idea how trees work and simply because there is no soil. And the winter would destroy her. 

This is what we forget. Especially with NATURE. Nothing is free. And we often take for granted the resources it takes to shower our lives with so many gifts. The healthy soil, water, and sunlight we need to grow. And to be fair, sometimes that looks like a monetary exchange. If all businesses viewed their business like nature, an abundant exchange when given the right resources. I don’t think there would be as much fear and greed and inflation. That is the beauty of nature, it doesn’t lie. And uses what it needs appropriately and works with the entire eco system to ensure health for the entirety because the healthier the eco system the healthier the plant. I am not a botanist. 

I just think we have our thinking wrong around what is actually valuable. Me charging you for my writing doesn’t give it inherent value. It is empty. And me continually writing without an exchange costs too much as well. But what is the exchange? For me right now. It’s that I get to write to you. I am a clown, without my audience I am just an insane person, talking to myself. And I get to write without the pressure of this being anything, but weekly well probably bi-weekly musings. Maybe it will grow. I don’t know. 

I’d like to wrap this in a bow, however, there is no end. So I leave  you with…May your roots grow deep and wide and be nurtured with rich soil, and may the sun shine light upon your skin and you feel the warmth and generosity of Mother Earth. 

May you look at a tree or plant and thank her for her gifts, and feel what is truly valuable and give energy to that. 

AND! may you come across a flower that blesses you. Hopefully a Frangipani.

Xo, 

The Patron Saint of Missed American Dreams

PHOTO CREDIT: Christopher Duggan. (I forgot last time)

MISSED AMERICAN DREAMS: A No Newsletter dispatches every OTHER Sunday evening, just as the city starts to hum again. Let's explore the missed dreams together. 

AI, suggested that above, sounded cool. May not happen. 

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