They say
winter is like death,
the stillness before
the new life of spring.
They say
winter is the end of things.
They are right
and wrong.
Before the crocus emerges
in the spring,
it has been resting
and metabolizing
and readying for its journey
to the surface.
Our own beginnings
occurred in stillness,
our nascent selves
coming to rest
in the uteral lining,
with no one the wiser.
The term ally implies I am not directly involved.I am not an allybecause it is not so simple as black and white. because this is not a war, not an us vs. them.The struggle is this: us vs. us, freedoms and futures intertwined like roots of plantsgrown in the same pot.
This post is inspired by a question from a friend. I experienced trauma in my childhood. Beginning in college, I have done footwork, with help, to heal those wounds. My friend knows this history, and so asked me what helps when past trauma makes itself known in the...
This post was originally published 11 September 2019 here under the title "Death: A Holy Interruption." Death interrupts us. This is what death does. Unafraid to break into our lives, it comes, and not when we expect it. It comes when it is ready. That time may or may...
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