The Latibulum

A burrow of belonging for burnouts.

Every other door on this street opens onto a room. This one opens onto a hole in the ground, and going down into it is the point.

The word

Latibulum is Latin. Lewis and Short give it as “a hiding-place, lurking-hole, covert, den, of animals” — a badger’s sett, a fox’s earth, somewhere a creature goes when it has had enough of being findable. Then they give a second sense, the figurative one, and quote Cicero calling a place the latibulum et perfugium doloris mei: the hiding-place and refuge of his grief.

So the word already does both jobs. It is where an animal goes to be unavailable, and it is where a person goes when something has knocked them flat. We did not have to stretch it. Ryan met the word here; the dictionary entry is here.

In our own vocabulary this is a cave — the quiet end of a Cavendish Space, where the work is being unreachable for a while. Not a break room with a twenty-minute limit on it. Burnout does not run on a twenty-minute limit either.

The wireless

There is a set in the corner with one station on it. It makes no sound at all until you turn it on, and it says how long it runs before you do.

RUNS 1:14:00 · ON YOUTUBE, VIA ADRIEL JEREMIAH WOOL

Ocean Waves (2025 Extended Version)

Not a recording of the ocean. Ryan calls it a fractal composition of the nature of the ocean, modulated into swells, and that is the thing to know before you press it: the rhythm is built to be breathed along with rather than listened to. It runs for an hour and a quarter and it does not go anywhere, which is the point of it.

Adriel Jeremiah Wool. Nothing of it is hosted here; pressing is what sends the request.

The television

And a set with a tube in it, dragged down here from a decade that had nothing to do with hills. One programme, and it is a class you can take lying down.

RUNS 22:45 · ON YOUTUBE, VIA ITSTIMEFITNESS

Seated Tai Chi for Beginners and Seniors

Tai chi and qigong, taught entirely from a chair — Repulse Monkey, Parting the Horse's Mane, Cloud Arms, three repetitions of everything so that all the exercises become familiar. Everything in it is seated, and not as a modification: as the design. Nothing in it requires standing and nothing in it requires moving at all.

Annette, of Itstimefitness. Nothing of it is hosted here; pressing is what sends the request.

Things to do with a bodymind

We are not minds riding around in bodies. We are bodyminds — nervous systems woven through with cognition, feeling and flesh — and a bodymind in a burrow has needs that deserve to be met. This shelf is lifted straight off our own Bodymind Break, which is where it belongs and where there is more of it.

stretchReach for something. It does not have to be far, and it does not have to be up.
flapHands talk. Stimming is regulation, not a symptom to be quiet about.
fidgetSomething in your hands, turning. A ring, a zip, a corner of a blanket.
meditateOr sit there badly. Nobody in this burrow is checking your posture.
stim danceChair, floor, one hand, nothing. See Happy Flappy.
body scanStart at the feet and work up. What it is, and how.
eatThe unglamorous one. Something warm, something cold, something beige.
drinkWater counts. So does the third tea you forgot about.
peeGo now. It is on the list because it is always the thing being postponed.

Nothing on that shelf is a button. No ticks, no streak, no progress bar, nothing that notices which ones you did. A shelf that kept score would have turned a bodymind break into a small unpaid job, which is the thing the break is a break from.

In practical terms, supporting nervous system regulation means tending to and responding to the body’s needs first and foremost. This means prioritising physiological needs. Things like taking rest breaks, keeping warm, cooling down, regularly hydrating, moving when the body feels it needs to, and going to the toilet as soon as you need to.

— Embodied Education: Creating Safe Space for Learning, Facilitating and Sharing, quoted on our own Bodymind Break.

What the burrow is

Nothing plays until you press play. Both of the things down here that can make a noise are silent, and have been since the page loaded. Until you press one, this page has asked YouTube for nothing on your behalf — no iframe, no cookie, no request — and both of them tell you how long they run before you decide.
Nothing is counted. No visits, no minutes, no streak, no shelf of things you got through. A burrow that tallied your rest would be a burrow that had opinions about how much of it you were entitled to.
Nothing is behind the dial. This room is quiet at every setting because it was built quiet, not because Gentle took anything off it. Turn it all the way up to MAX GLITTER and exactly one thing happens: the lamp breathes, slowly, and nothing else in here so much as leans.
You can leave without telling anybody. There is nothing to sign, nothing to join, and nothing that notices you came. The street is still up there whenever you want it, and it will be just as loud as you left it.
It is a hole in the ground and it is allowed to be. Hiding is not a failure state. It is what the word has meant since before anybody thought to be ashamed of it.

Who made the noise in here

“Ocean Waves” is by Adriel Jeremiah Wool, a Stimpunk, and it is his — used here with his permission and hosted by him, not by us. The seated tai chi class is Annette’s, of Itstimefitness; we found it for our own Campfire Learn Together on somatic practice and bodily survival knowledge. Neither of them is affiliated with this street beyond being on it. The shelf is our own Bodymind Break, and the quotation on it belongs to the page it is quoted from. Everything is collected in the liner notes.

HOW LOUD DO YOU WANT IT?

Starts wherever your device says. Nothing moves, flashes, or plays until you say so — and down here, MAX GLITTER is one lamp breathing.