where I stand

My values align with care- for myself, loved ones, and strangers. There is no separation. We erect multi layers and levels of borders between “us” and “them” but regardless of these imaginary lines we draw in the sand we cannot escape our reliance on the welfare of one another, regardless of proximity. Peeling them off will bring tears.

Capitalism puts focus on the material, and folks that tap into this mindset always want more. Capitalism centers the individual, not the collective. Fame and monetary fortune- fuck that. It is not sustainable. We are seeing in real time the effects of late stage capitalism. Rejecting this system is not about choosing the wellness of many over the wellness of self, but accepting that the wellness of many IS the wellness of self. It means prioritizing shelter, connection, food on the table, clean water, education, and healthcare for all- dat real deal abundance. 

In order to achieve this we must let go of the desire to have more than our share. When you take more, you leave less. This is an early childhood lesson. You will never convince me that an individual working multiple service jobs to make ends meet is deserving of little while a CEO of an insurance company bathes is excess. If we want a thriving landscape it means those who are currently hoarding wealth will have to let it go, but they didn’t get where they are by being generous, evenhanded, or mindful of community- so it will need to be taken. Think hacker “Robin Hood”, regulatory laws, boycotts, our vote at the local and national level, and being intentional with where we do spend our money- they all have their place. It also means we need to stop funneling our money/taxes into warfare + offshoring business- both of which are about power/control and profit for the already grossly rich. 

We must also dispose of the idea that “the man” will look out for us, that our savior will save the day, that continued faith in these faulty systems will pay off, because it is simply not true. By placing our trust in each other and community we can make our own rules and reach for something new.

This is not just about humans, but also the flora and fauna that live here. Always grasping for opulence comes at great cost to this land that we are heavily dependent on for survival. When we poison the land, we poison ourselves. 

Yes, there is a trade-off. Cashing in unquenchable luxury and pampering for the few in exchange for sustainable resources for the many is an undeniable positive for the average household. However, a shift away from our reliance on fossil fuels (for example) will no doubt affect the family already struggling to get by. Revolution is truthfully formidable and although there is no way around the discomfort it will bring, there are approaches that can mitigate and reduce the turmoil of transition if only we had brave and humane leadership. The alternative- we accept stagnation and the sharp pain and bitterness of capitalism will cut us down. Hardship will come by way of avoidance, eventually. Is it not better to struggle now with the possibility of a better tomorrow than wait for things to deteriorate beyond repair?

Maybe you don’t feel it yet because you are lucky enough to currently hold privileges that others have never been afforded or are actively losing- but look around you, suffering is never far and it is growing. No one is untouchable and that will only get clearer if we continue down this path. Do not mistake a symptom for the problem. Growing houselessness, poverty, crime, violence, and addiction are all effects of a diseased system, not the cause. 

I am not perfect, I could do better, I feel overwhelmed and depleted at times, unable to fathom how anything I do will actually make a difference. This is normal and ok, but then I recall where I stand…

• on the vital soil who has provided me nourishment and connection time and again by way of meal, medicine, and microbiome

• beside the tree who bestows a “there, there” as I kneel before him in tears, mourning the loss of his people as a result of greedy human hands, all while he continues to enrich the air with oxygen 

• beneath the sky that sings in hopeful blue tones and throws a blanket of moody grey- instructing me that mixed feelings are always welcome 

• across from the deer who remains steadfast in her vulnerability 

• next to the salmon who leave the comfort of their salty dens for the struggle of an up river run, towards their fresh natal waters where they will spawn and die, surrendering their corpses to the wilder beast, bird, and riparian nearby

Nature reminds me to move through this world in a way that aligns with my values regardless of if it makes a difference, but also knowing- it does.  

boundaries

Personal boundaries (as written by Wikipedia) “are established by changing one’s own response to interpersonal situations, rather than expecting other people to change their behaviors to comply with your boundary.”

This is no easy task, particularly for the human who has been socialized to accept, please, forgive, make work, etc. I am either nice or a bitch, composed or melodramatic- there is no middle ground given by this patriarchal society.

To start, I had to reject this narrative and find comfort beyond it’s walls by creating my own path, living by my own values, and building strength to stand tall when I meet others who wish to claim authority over, or view my person and this world in such an either or way. This outlook requires decolonizing the brain. Too often we state our values verbally but do not practice them internally which creates a layer of deceit that we may not even be privy to- hence why so many claim to “not be racist” yet support racist policies and people- there is a disconnect. If we all spent more time turning inward rather than jabbing our pointer outward, the world would be a better place.

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The practical:

When you are trying to communicate boundaries in kindness- keep it about yourself. Even if this other person by your assessment is in the wrong, the reality is that you are the one experiencing frustration and this response belongs to you. Relational dynamics are complex. There are indeed high contrast scenarios in which disturbing violations occur (on the micro and macro level), however the bulk of what we navigate over the course of our lifetime falls into a grey zone, and this is where I am coming from. Identifying how you feel, what your needs are, and how they could be met is a good place to start prior to broaching the subject. Even better- acknowledging the ways in which you do appreciate the other + opening up to the possibility that their response may shift how you feel fosters an exchange versus a one-sided take. If this conversation does not lead to a better place between you, and especially if they do not receive it well or take you seriously, then maybe it’s time to re-think your proximity to this person.

Exercising this muscle has allowed me to understand the way I can best engage in difficult conversations without lashing out or capsizing. For me, I need to write it out. Sometimes this is for my eyes only, or a means of first contact with a promise to chat in person later. I am a sensitive creature and I know how easily it is to lose all words when it comes to matters of the heart. Writing opens up a portal of honesty. Reading my typed thoughts allows me to see where I am being unfair or lacking nuance, clarify the confusion I might be experiencing, better identify why I am feeling this way and what might help, and determine if this is even something I need to share… maybe all I needed do was process with myself.

On top of writing, I have digested many books and online classes over the last decade covering a wide variety of topics relating to human connection and personal understanding- knowledge grounds me. I am also in full support of seeking out the guidance of a mental health care professional. Though this has not been a road I’ve traveled (though considered), I have friends speak to the tremendous help it has been in their transformation.

There are situations where physical distance is not possible in the short or long term. Such might be the case with a co-worker, family member, or neighbor. Still, there are tools we can reach for to cope. Whenever I find myself obsessing over a dynamic that does not allow somatic relief by separation, I try to foster a degree of acceptance and also engage in rituals that shift my circuitry. Because I am an aphant, I cannot visualize, so what works for me is movement. Walking quickly through deep woods is one way I set my thinker free from hazardous patterns- I engage in this activity at least once a week, usually more. If I am unable to seek solace in the forest then I must meet myself where I stand… taking a deep inhale while pulling my open palms to chest, I push my hands and breath forward and out, releasing the unhelpful thought or person occupying my psyche, believing them to be moving further and further from my person- out of sight, out of mind. I repeat this until I feel at ease.

Did you know the lungs are connected to grief in TCM? Let that shit out.

In these everyday scenarios, your boundaries are yours to maintain and respect. Practice is required like with any other skill. I am no longer a people pleaser. That doesn’t mean the knot at center chest fails to tighten when I navigate these waters or that I would claim to be a pro (I am still leaning from mistakes), but I am better equipped at mitigating the tension that rises so that it does not arrest me from taking action.

Whether it be saying no, goodbye, or giving my all to those I care about- it all comes from a place of love, kindness, and honesty.

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I also believe that being able to form and maintain boundaries requires agency, and agency is connected to the support systems we have in place. In this way, boundaries are a privilege that we should not take for granted, nor should we lose sight of the ways in which we can lend our hands to those in struggle or forget those who have lifted us up. Boundaries are not meant to be rock solid at all times and to all people. Allowing people in, extending yourself in service, is essential to community and connection.

I have been in a lacking and needful place- isolated and ashamed… fearful to leave a toxic relationship of 7 years… trapped in a vicious cycle of despair. In a moment of desperation I reached out to a person I had only recently met, hoping that she might shelter me and my 2 dogs + cat. Her response was simple- yes. No questions asked. I quickly moved in, and though my life did not suddenly get easier, it was a foundational step in a new direction- an essential one towards who I am today.

Miss and love you, Holly bean. Thanks for helping me in a time of great need.

Holly Mae Bennett: December 13, 1980- December 10, 2020

Poor Things

Bella Baxter : If I know the world I can improve it.
Harry Astley : You can't. This is the real point. Don't accept the lie of religion, socialism, capitalism. We are a fucked species. Know it. Hope is smash-able, realism is not. Protect yourself with the truth.
Bella Baxter : I realize what you are now Harry. Just a broken little boy who cannot bear the pain of the world.
Harry Astley : I suppose so.

This is an exchange from Poor Things, a movie I finally got around to viewing. Bella’s response was a mic drop moment for me, and it would seem for Harry too. Pessimism projected as a form of reality check truth is a defense mechanism to avoid feeling and managing the great weight and range of this world. Optimism too can become a shield- an intolerance to suffering smeared in positivity, casting those who challenge this false layer of “protection” as the problem rather than acknowledge the deep and daunting sickness in the overbearing system. Both aim to avoid heartbreak, but this hurt is an essential one, a reminder of our humanity.

And then there is hope…

In the words of Cornel West- “Hope is about making a leap beyond the evidence that is given to you. Optimism usually looks at the evidence and sees whether it is possible to infer that things are going to get better. Optimism oftentimes has to do with being a spectator. Whereas Hope is in the mess, in the muck, in the mire, in the funk. And it helps create new evidence. And so it’s dynamic. Hope is something that is much deeper than Optimism. And it’s no accident that Hope and Despair go hand in hand. Hope is a wrestling with the Despair over and over again but never allowing Despair to have the last word, to dampen your fire, to sustain your hope in your quest for truth, goodness, beauty, and maybe the Holy…. Hope is not just a virtue, it is a verb. You have to be Hope to really have Hope.”

in a day

It all starts at 2:30 am when I wake to a sore throat, but not in the location I expect when I’m getting sick- further forward. Was I snoring something mad? I’ve also been having winter allergies and wonder if this could be another manifestation. I pull myself out of bed to mix and gargle salt water, meeting my weary eyes in the bathroom mirror. I leave the cup behind and fall back into bed. An hour later I wake up to Samara puking- my little moth princess who likes to eat holes out of my clothing. I once again rise to inspect and clean. As I re-enter the bathroom my hand bumps into the empty salt water glass. It falls, shattering into a million pieces, some of which drop into my “if it’s yellow let it mellow” toilet. Gross. I shake and remove items from the bathroom, sweeping up the glass best I can, open palm diving into the toilet to scoop the large chucks, and soon thoroughly washing my hands before I tuck myself back in. My alarm goes off at 4:50 am- time to rise and shine for Work. As I initiate my morning routines I feel a small pressure coming from the bottom of my right foot and immediately realize it must be glass. Lucky for me it’s embedded in my calloused sole which means it didn’t hurt or fully penetrate and I easily remove the sliver with tweezers. Should I count this as a win? 

At work I had several sweet clients with senior pets experiencing chronic and/or terminal illnesses reach out in one way or another, pulling on my energy stores. I accept the cost because they have soft, kind hearts and this is the reality of caring. Some days are light, others heavy- I try to roll with it. 

There are moments when I must willingly subject myself to the challenging client for the sake of the animal, and because I know we live in a fucked up world- expecting people to have their shit together is unreasonable. So on this day I had a long phone conversation with an individual that felt impossible. The more I tried to focus on resolving the misunderstanding so that we could move forward, the weirder and wider things got. Maintaining composure when the person you are trying to converse with cannot is difficult to say the least, but it is a necessary and responsible skill that I am always trying to improve upon, one that cannot be perfected- I am a human after all just trying my best, like everyone else.

There are times when I have no life left in me, bled dry in the name of service. It’s such a strange feeling in that there is a sense of relief- resignation is all I can muster. Copper Creek is a place I visit in the summer where an old mine resides, whose vitality has been lifted, and it carries a similar vibe. It is unusually still and quiet for a forest… an underworld that I have come to recognize- inside and out.

Lessons of Nosferatu

I care about that which is alive- the breath of my fellow human + flora and fauna. No amount of capital gain or imposed religious/political ideology is worth harms done to, for we are irrevocably dependent on the health of this planet and one another.

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For those that have yet to see Nosferatu but plan to, I have written out an aspect of this tale that I would say is not a spoiler (especially since it is a re-make), but may be something you choose to read after you view it for yourself so that you can take it in organically, finding your own meaning. So- read on if you choose.

At the beginning, Thomas sets out to prosper in the only way he knows how- financially. The clear sun filled sky observed as he arrives to his appointment swiftly turns grey and drenching wet as he accepts his assigned task reluctantly. He arrives home with a plan made of flowers and bended knee to ease the distress he knows will rise from his beloved at the news, yet he brings no intention to consider her point of view. Ellen pleads with him not to go, speaking of her darkened dreams that express bad fortune. Death. She is dismissed, as women are- her intuition labeled as trivial, hysterical- a burden to those around her. His 6 week charge begins, a presumably smooth venture up until he arrives at a small village just outside his destination. The unsettling returns. Ill omens are openly granted, yet still he does not heed, for he is naive in his apprehension. On foot he is faced with four approaching horses, dark as the night, belonging to a carriage that bids him welcome, he slowly steps in, his hesitation palpable. There is no doubt that every bone in his body is screaming for him to turn away, run home. Yet he moves onward, entering the ruined castle. As the doors close behind him we know- this is the point of no return, he has relinquished his agency.

This series of events in one way tells of how we erroneously find meaning and making in fortune (capitalism), burying what the heart and soul knows to be true. We will pursue it at great peril to ourself and others because we are convinced that it is the only way towards a better future. Money, status, recognition. A prison formed long ago by well off men seeking power and control, setting rules and regulations regarding what is normal and what is not. What is good and what is folly.

Though gender is a construct, it has lived long enough to form a mountain of matter… As men, you must be rational at all times, the insight of emotion is weak and useless. As women, you may hold onto such lowly content, but you will not be taken seriously. Too easily we refuse the significance of our inner guide in one way or another, and so the walls of our undoing hold, and the cycle of violence continues.  

Nosferatu is a monster of our own making that we cannot defeat by mirrored means, for true strength is developed not taken. We overcome by waking up to their existence, influence, and methods of dominance in order to understand rather than deny this looming shadow. A grand show of honesty that releases their control, which by all accounts, does require a degree of self sacrifice.  

Black Eyed Peas and Greens

Growing up and still, this is tradition- for good luck and money in the New Year. The one I most readily remember as a child is when my mother served us cold shredded cabbage straight outta the plastic bag and fridge + luke warmed canned black eyed peas- maybe salted. I served myself a small portion of each, my mom gave me a look that needed no words before putting more on my plate. It was a challenge and demand- an expectation to take seriously this endeavor (or so I thought). Each bite was a struggle but I made it through. As an adult I asked my mom- what was that about? Why not dress it up, make it good. Was this a part of the ritual- gotta work for it? She laughed, "I was hungover that year and that’s about all the effort I could muster." Ohhhhh!💡I’m still cracking up about this dawning moment years later. 

Our connections are only one layer of who we are. My mother is my mother, but she is also a friend, and that NYE she did friend things that resulted in her feeling like shit the next day, something I didn’t understand at the time- I was just a kid. Seeing our relationships outside of the roles they predominantly play in our life is crucial. It allows us to appreciate the complexity of one another, to see each other as fully human rather than as a specific purpose served. Someone with wants and needs, a past of joy and pain + dreams, who we know well and also not at all. It allows us to relinquish the authority of containment and foster deeper connection. 

https://vanillaandbean.com/black-eyed-peas-with-smoky-collards-and-cheesy-grits/

May this new year bless you with hope and kinship- a fortune indeed.

it's the little things

It’s half past 6 when I rise. Coffee calls and I’ve been restless for an hour. Sliding out of bed I stiffly walk and loosen as I find my way in the pitch black to the bathroom. Must- urinate, blow my nose, manage this unruly hair, brush my teeth, splash water on my face… now that feels better. I dress, gather the essentials, and cross over the threshold, alertness in my body. 

Down the well worn gravel drive I go, mindful of my step. The sun will not rise for another hour- the neighborhood sleeps in. I wonder how I must look as my cloaked figure creeps through the dark. Is there someone looking out, suspicious of my make? I grin. My hands are in my pocket, key wedged between my fingers. I move through the middle of the street and feel safe on this path, but I know how quickly that can change. Best to stay in this frame. Even so, I enjoy myself. I love this scene of modest stimulation. Gentle rain drops…. Light wind… Soft sparkles… The low volume sound of my clothes gliding together. I see a large lit Santa peering out a window and think- you have a menacing quality. I look forward to a warm brew and pastry- un rituel du dimanche. 

I arrive just before the sandwich board. So I sit and check my email- three friends each write- I love you. This is a good way to start the day. Two minutes pass and the clatter of metal bids me welcome. Inside they know my order- a quad americano with oat milk….

“What are your plans for ringing in the New Year?” 

I reply- “It will be quiet, that is all I know.” and return the query. 

“My roommate is having a Mario Cart party, I’ll likely lose quickly.” 

I laugh- “Fun! I haven’t played that game in forever.” 

“Yeah, we’re playing on old equipment- a Wii.” 

A giggle quietly escapes my lips…  vintage for me dates back another two decades. I appreciate this simple and warm exchange and wish them a good day as I head out the door and back the way I came, mostly. 

As I round a corner, coffee comforting and in hand, I startle and jump. A looming shape appears that at first glance my mind states- there’s someone behind you! I calm and chuckle when I realize this figure is me, another side of me, another part of me. Formed by the casting of nearby luminescence. 

“Oh hi, Shadow” I whisper, “it’s good to see you”.  

We move along towards that green porch light. Inside we sit and write as the daylight slowly seeps in.  

still, in the cold and damp there are buds and blooms

Where do I find joy? 

• In the breath and beauty of the natural world

• In the dog and cat I meet and treat each day + my feline familiars 

• In the warm embrace and robust laughter i so often share with b boy

• In the curation of gifts for loved ones

• In the solo adventures i sometimes take myself on

• In the backyard of my two closest friends, sitting around the fire 

• In the peace of dance, when music comes alive and takes over my body leaving my mind to rest

• In the pages of books that ground me in real life understanding or carry me away to far lands where there is magic and justice 

• In the days spent with my Louisiana family, showing them the wonders of the PNW

• In FaceTime chats with out of reach but close at heart loved ones

• In the dark humor and camaraderie I share with my co-workers

• In the words I am compelled to share, that make meaning out of the chaos floating in my cerebrosphere

• In the films that inspire and hope

For all of this I am grateful.

valuables on my person

Where I stand…

I refuse to become that which upsets me. I will not throw back attitudes that deeply need to change… they have done enough harm. I will maintain empathy and an open mind + ear, even when it is challenging. I will feel and process my emotions but not let them take the wheel or steal the time I could put towards actionable measures that support.  

I will take care of my mind and body, further honing the natural watch dog within, so that when it comes down to it- I can protect… fight back. 

Fear, anger, worry, sorrow, and disgust are my friends. They are catalysts for change, but not the foundation. 

Love is my bedrock. 

Empathy- "the ability to share someone else's feelings or experiences by imagining what it would be like to be in that person's situation."

• Trans rights are Human rights. 

• Pro Choice matters- I believe in bodily autonomy and that anyone with a uterus should have the power to make decisions for themselves, in the company of those they trust… free from the reigns of the religious right and misogynist. 

• I am an anti-racist who routinely evaluates my thought and bias. This is an intentional and on-going process, not a passive or static one. 

• I strongly support universal healthcare and education + the green new deal… providing opportunity to move beyond the chains of circumstance. Investing in people’s welfare is the only way to grow a sustainable and robust future. Fueling the war machine is its antithesis. 

getting ripped on weights and woes

Distraction:

US culture asks us to universally sacrifice the old for the new- but the new is a body made of microplastics. It nuclearizes the pursuit of peace and prosperity with the aim to separate our time and energy from growing global atrocities, but the bliss of ignorance comes at great cost. It tells us there is always more we could and should be doing as long as it falls in line… or online where hostilities spread and corrode like a toxic slime.

Friction:

The land mass of “liberty” contains two party tectonic plates in a perpetual strike-slip grind, producing destructive shock waves with no creative purchase in mind.

A flag of fascism on the right, and a hard to swallow pill of still on the left.

It is laborious to hold hope when eruption feels inexorable, so I build strength to resist letting go- by getting ripped on weights and woes.

Division | Revision:

Activism is in part related to experience- some of us are compelled forward based on circumstance and history. At the core, it is an engaged mindset that seeks to dismantle internalized systems of oppression- independent of identity. You can be queer and prejudice, a woman and misogynistic. Proclamation against is only the first step towards transformation.

To live in this world is to be influenced in ways that will inevitably project harm. Our privileges and/or marginalizations do not automatically make us wrong or unquestionably right. These facts of life should be acknowledged and act as a point of reference for understanding ourselves and each other, not as a weapon to injure or slay.

Salvation is in our ability to challenge the demons that we shelter inside so that we may come together and defeat the few rich fucks that skeeve on the outside.

We need the fertile grounds of grief- to move beyond our festering anger, to see each other as peoples of this earth not defined by continental or state lines, to know that we are an intricate part of this planet so that we stop exploiting the great cook and provider. This requires acknowledging the horrors of history in order to course correct. What was then is also now, and what is now will be our future.

Collaboration

The only clear path towards a better tomorrow will depend on our ability to connect with one another across the divide. Realistically reaching- it is hard to imagine such a landscape, but I will try.

Rougarou

I now feel the joules of my labor- 

That took the form of resistance- 

against the push and pressure to bend- 

into a beauty mold made by others- 

an emphasis on the outer over in. 

Caring less is an external rejection and has not been the bulk of my process. Instead, it has been one of internal expansion- pulverizing standardization. 

This about face is more than self reflection. It includes how I view others and acknowledges their intimate connection. 

It also embraces the choice to feed the beast of beauty. I have in my own way and can confirm that exterior manipulations have the ability to grant us the confidence we need to proceed- regardless of where that stems from. I keep this complexity close, and at the end of the day it all takes courage.