heppy thunksgravy

I’m writing this from my second visit in Lexington public library…. It’s such an inspiring space! Definitely in my top 3 libraries, I’d say. They’ve got an afternoon showing of the Incredibles 2, as an alternative activity to Black Friday frenzies, and in the teen space, a pair of siblings are playing Mario Kart on the public Wii.

In the front of the library, there’s a display shelf with “Library of Things.” This is totally amazing and I’ve posted this before, but thought to share again…

And this moving photo exhibit about family members separated after the Korean War. Titled, “A Long Separation.”

Happy Thanksgiving, world. Grateful to have access to such a great resource - among other things! In my bucket list in life, it would be pretty neat to be a librarian someday - and give back to this kind of environment that offers us so much.

Lately (other than fangirling about games) I’ve been thinking about a dozen different things.

One big theme that’s been marinating: Emotionality vs. rationality - and constant attempts to squish emotions into logical frameworks.

I know that I do that internally all the time. But there is so much soft energy, spiritual explanation, and things that just are. My friend and I ranted about this. We both come from contexts of constant analysis- where logic is the epitome of intelligence. But there is so much more to existing as a human than just rationality.

The mind is so often thought of as superior. “Mind over body,” “Thoughts over feelings.” Although there is sometimes the risk of arbitrarily gendering everything, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Mind and Logic feel more coded “male,” in my mind. Already a trope: shutting up women because they “are too emotional.”

I’ve been having these really interesting conversations about how to tell people in all honesty how you feel about them. Vulnerability ripples in slow but powerful ways. Been talking about female-ness and soft-ness – and trying to stuff yourself in male frameworks to be “successful,” instead of valuing what you have as a “gift.”

“Such a gift!” my roommate says, so emphatically. Having your period? A gift, which, I have thought about but never really believed.

Have been thinking a lot about family and things that get carried on generational levels. What if people lived to be 700 years old? Of course the knee-jerk is concern for overpopulation, which is legit. But if you could suspend disbelief on that note - think about what scales of understanding you could know?

Have been thinking about mindfulness and how everything is a verb in a state of happening, not so much a noun. Plastic bags can eventually become garbage, and so can nuclear waste. Thich Naht Hahn’s quote which makes me cry a little:

“Nuclear waste is the worst kind of garbage. It takes 25,000 years to become flowers.”

That’s all for now. Not the most coherent/graceful post - but feels good to get these random thoughts out!

bean tree at hiatus end

I went to Nashoba Brook Bakery yesterday with an old high school friend. The leaves were yellow under a white sky. In the bakery’s backyard, the brook babbled (are there any other verbs that a brook can do?) Tall bean tree loomed overhead, dropping giant leaves big as fans.

Writing is awkward and unfamiliar; it has been a while for sure, since last December - and then, even, writing was sparse.

Something about meeting up with K, and being in my hometown made me feel very centered in a nice way - I forgot about writing, poetry, drawing, as a means for self-understanding.

I’m living in Cambridge now - I never thought I’d make my way back to this small city, equally cobblestoned and techno-gentrifying. I love my neighborhood; it’s shaded with old trees and adjacent houses proudly sport anti-facist signage.

The last year has been full of adventure; there’s no way to fully summarize it. I did, though, find a folder full of pictures of feet (my feet), that I had taken in places all over the world. It would be nice to show them all in a short reel.

Here’s one I took near the tree at work.

I feel connected to my job - so much so! The people are warm and so awake. They are loving and thoughtful and playful and they care, so much. The odds of this kind of place existing - slim! At one of our team retreats, we talked about values. I think this quote sums my experience up pretty well:

“I think of our team as valuing playfulness, joy, and humor,” someone said.
“But also,” someone else chimed. “It’s okay if there are days where we aren’t playful.”
Folks agreed.
“We’re here to care about the whole person.” We are whole human beings.

There’s joy, care, vision, and silliness. I’m incredibly grateful and I hope I can do a good job- serving our mission, and adding to our community.

Today in particular, I think I was drawn back to writing because I’m having a pretty hard day. If I think about where I am - successful by all traditional means, successful by many “spiritual” means, and deeply lucky to feel safe in my identity, in my neighborhood. Family, friends, work, privilege. Almost makes me feel like a hard day shouldn’t be so hard.

But still – a hard day. When you experience pain in one of your close relationships, you carry it everywhere. Today this pain has been seeping into my work, my sense of self. I know that even a very healthy relationship has stormy days, though it doesn’t feel easier.

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about peace and violence - in particular expanding the definition of violence.

Violence can exist on long time scales, and at large: policy and corporations denying you agency, safety, and care.
Violence can exist in non-physical form: emotional abuse, manipulation, control.
Violence can exist internally: self-criticism, self-anger, fighting yourself.
Violence is passed down through generations, and generations.

Some of this comes from reading Thich Nhat Han’s book, Peace is Every Step.

I’m interested in this last point in particular: it can take incredible mindfulness and practice to *not* do the thing that your parent did, that their parent did. Fear from abuse, poverty, discrimination lingers, and while anxiety also has a biological root, anxiety does not exist in a cultural vacuum.

Some of this rears its head when you fight with a loved one.

I don’t mean to wax too sad for too long here. But I am prompted to think about how to where things come from, when we fight. At couple’s scale, at community scale, at nation scale. And what are ways to cultivate peace?

Peace, and caring for the whole person. I’m still working on it, and trying to go about it in a playful spirit. In the meantime, there’s always rambling on Tumblr.

See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

More you might like

heppy thunksgravy

bean tree at hiatus end