Our country is in the throes of an undeclared civil war, and in the wake of the Orlando murders I find myself with little to say except in urgent letters to political representatives. I look to the elders–to James Baldwin and especially to Audre Lorde–for a path with heart because all around me is broken, bleeding. Lost.
On the subway home last night, surrounded by the beautiful purple and green and pink and black and brown and yellow and blue and red misses and misters and mizzers of my city–variously tired, wired, sober, drunk, happy, sad; variously queer, too–I felt this powerful tenderness for every person in their precious, precarious trajectory. I wanted to strap on an arrow and bow like an Amazon, like Artemis, like Eros himself, and protect them all. We each have a right to be cranky, undefended, soft around each other–to sit shoulder to shoulder without fear or judgment. We are getting closer to that state. We are moving further away. Continue Reading →
Summer has arrived and, with it, a desire to sprawl, preferably under a tree or by water. For those of us lucky enough to live with the seasons, now is the time to surrender – to fruit and flowers and temperatures high enough to prevent us from doing anything rigorous without breaking into a sweat. It is time to be still, in other words, which is not a forte of most Americans. Our lifestyles are built around the hustle and bustle of multitasking – of navigating two or three screens at once, of talking while texting, of filming concerts on our iPhones rather than dancing at them, of layering appointment upon appointment while narrating our every activity on social media. It is what it is, for Americans have always been go-getters, but it is no surprise that the call for “centering activities” has been on the rise. Witness the popularity of yoga, of Buddhism, of tai chi – not to mention of blood pressure medication, muscle relaxants, and tranquilizers. But while I respect each of these practices, I’m intrigued that we look to other cultures (and prescription pads) when it comes to quieting ourselves. For as long as there have been words – before there were novels, let alone status updates and tweets – there has been poetry, and poetry is all about staying in the present. 
I withhold not my heart from any joy.— Ecclesiastes 2:10, via Anne of Windy Poplars