17
Tides
Stimpunks Foundation · Zine No. 17

The Nearest Body

on tides, co-regulation, and how the bodies closest to you pull your nervous system into rhythm


L★S
Love You Down
To Your Star Stuff
· open edition ·
Tidal force

The near
body wins


The tide is the ocean answering to the sky. The Moon pulls hardest on the water directly beneath it, a little less on the rock of the Earth, less still on the far ocean — and that difference in pull, stretched across the planet, lifts a bulge on each side. Two bulges, turning under us: two high tides a day.

Here is the strange part. The Sun is 27 million times more massive than the Moon, and it hauls on the Earth with over 170 times the raw force. Yet the Moon runs the tide. Tidal force falls off not with distance but with distance cubed — so the small, close body overwhelms the vast, far one.

Distance matters more than mass. You are pulled most by what is nearest — not by what is largest.

The Sun is 27 million times heavier. The Moon still owns the tide. Nearness beats mass.
SUN 27,000,000× heavier far · loses the tide the ocean MOON near · wins force ∝ 1 / distance³

the small near body wins
tidal pull falls off as the cube

a safe-enough body your nervous system pull across the gap

gravity acts at a distance
the moon never touches the sea

Co-regulation · polyvagal

Co-regulation
is gravity


Now read yourself as the water. Co-regulation is what it feels like when a safe-enough nervous system comes near: soft gaze, an unhurried voice, a steady heartbeat — and yours begins to fall into time with it. You don't settle by force of will. You are pulled into rhythm by a nearby body.

Polyvagal theory names this the deepest safety signal there is — resonance with another regulated nervous system, letting your body drop into its ventral, social, at-ease state. And gravity crosses a gap. Being with someone can be a felt presence, not a hand on the shoulder: a shared game, music in a chat, someone in the next room. Near enough to pull; not so near it overwhelms.

You do not have to be touched to be moved.

The moon never touches the sea. It only has to be near enough to pull.
Spring & neap · parallel presence

Two high tides


No body of water answers to a single pull. The Sun tugs too — and when Sun and Moon line up, their pulls add into a spring tide: high highs, low lows, a deep and easy rhythm. When they sit at right angles, the pulls half-cancel into a neap tide — flat, muddled, hard to read.

So it is with us. When your people, your places, and your routines are all in safe mode at once, regulation comes easy; everything is pulling the same way. When they pull against each other, you go slack and confused, no tide to speak of.

And two bodies can settle into one rhythm without ever merging. The Moon turns once for every orbit, forever showing the Earth a single face — tidally locked. That is parallel presence and body doubling: two people in one orbit, each a steady face for the other, together and separate at once.

Aligned, the pulls add. Crossed, they cancel. We regulate best when our moons agree.
SPRING · aligned pulls add → big tide NEAP · crossed half-cancel flat tide

aligned moons deepen the tide
crossed pulls flatten it

VENTRAL · safe moon SYMPATHETIC · meerkat no moon · no rhythm DORSAL · ebbed flat gone still

swell · chop · flat
a sea needs a moon to keep time

Meerkat mode

When there is
no moon


Take the moon away and the water doesn't rest — it churns. No steady pull to organize it, so it heaves every direction at once, hunting for anything to lock onto. Autistic and AuDHD folks know this state: meerkat mode — up on the hind legs, scanning for threat, unable to settle or focus, an overwhelmed monotropic mind desperate for a hook into flow.

It gets misread as clinginess, as over-attachment, as too much need. It is none of those. It is a nervous system starved of a moon. The constant reaching for a safe person isn't a flaw in the water — it's a tide with nothing to answer to.

You do not settle a churning sea by ordering the waves to stop. You restore its moon.

A churning sea isn't broken. It's a tide that lost its moon.
Ecosystemic distress · ARLES

The storm is
in the weather


When the sea won't settle, we go looking for the fault in the water. But water has no weather of its own. The storm comes from the system overhead; the flooding comes from where someone built the seawall too low, dredged the channel, paved the marsh that used to drink the surge.

Stimpunks calls this the ecosystemic model of distress: dysregulation lives in the relationship between a bodymind and its environment, not inside the person. Read ARLES downward and a failing system points to the environment that made it, the environment to the lived experience it ignored, and down to the attention and the nervous system it never once accounted for.

Broken systems, not broken people.

Nota broken nervous system — a body of water doing exactly what water does near a storm.
Notover-attachment or "too needy" — a tide reaching for the moon it was starved of.
Notlimerence: co-regulation is mutual and safe; limerence is one-sided and uncertain. Not every strong pull regulates you; some only pull you under.
Notcalm-down-by-willpower — you settle a sea by restoring its moon, not by scolding the waves.
Nota fault in the person — the storm is in the weather and the seawalls.
the system seawall the water is not the problem

look up, not down
broken systems, not broken people

high low predictable · and yours

read the table, go with it
every coast keeps its own clock

Regulation-first · chronodiversity

The tide table


The oldest gift the tide gives is that it can be known. Sailors don't fight the sea; they read the table and go with it. Regulation-first is the same discipline — settle the nervous system before you ask anything of it. Learn your own rhythms; build rooms that publish theirs.

And no two tables match. Every coast keeps its own clock; chronodiversity means your high tide is not mine — and a world worth living in stops treating one timetable as the only real one.

Come in with the tide. You were never meant to hold the ocean still. Find your moons — the near ones, the safe-enough ones — and let them pull you into time. Be a moon for someone. Let someone be a moon for you. We rise and fall by what we keep close.
L★S Co-regulation is gravity. You are pulled into rhythm by the bodies nearest you — and nearness beats mass. You do not have to be touched to be moved.
No. 11 Why Difference Comes First — Helen Edgar (guest)
No. 12 Turn and Face the Strange — David Bowie
No. 13 Warriors and Weirdos — AURORA, the alien who came home
No. 14 The Council of All Beings — multispecies justice & more-than-human kin
No. 15 Every Creature's Own Sky — umwelt, attention-worlds & double empathy
No. 16 Minor Worlds — niche construction & the building of livable worlds
No. 17 The Nearest Body — tides, co-regulation & being pulled by what's near ← you are here
Reflection

Who are your moons — the near, safe-enough bodies that pull you into rhythm?

What does your tide table look like, and who keeps asking you to run on someone else's?

When the water churns, where is the storm actually coming from?

The Nearest Body is the seventeenth zine in the Stimpunks series. After the more-than-human trilogy (Nos. 14–16), it picks the water back up and turns it inward: from a council of beings dissolving into flow, to the single body of water pulled by the bodies nearest it.

The science is settled and citable. Tides are the ocean answering to the difference in gravity across the Earth, raising a bulge on each side — two high tides a lunar day. The Sun out-masses the Moon roughly 27 million times and out-pulls it more than 170-fold, yet the Moon raises the larger tide, because tide-generating force falls off as the cube of distance rather than the square: distance matters more than mass (NOAA Ocean Service; Stanford Solar Center). Aligned Sun and Moon make spring tides; crossed, neap tides. The Moon is tidally locked, turning once per orbit to show one face.

The reading is Stimpunks' own vocabulary. Co-regulation — completing the stress cycle with a safe-enough person, and "being with" as felt presence — draws on Trauma Geek (Janae Elisabeth) and Autistic Realms (Helen Edgar); polyvagal theory is Stephen Porges. Meerkat mode is Tanya Adkin & David Gray-Hammond (Emergent Divergence), carrying monotropism from the earlier zines. The ecosystemic model of distress, ARLES, regulation-first, and parallel presence are the Stimpunks design method. "A body of water" carries Astrida Neimanis's hydrofeminism inward from No. 14; the shadow tide names Dorothy Tennov's limerence only to set it apart.

Broken systems, not broken people. You were star stuff, pulled into rhythm, all along.