“Le vent se lève !… Il faut tenter de vivre !”
The wind is rising!… We must try to live.
There is a wound intrinsic to being a person. It seems to sit right about at the rib, where Christ was finally impaled. There’s this spot in each of us which can’t seem to heal. As long as it’s there we’ll scratch at it or lick it. We’ll try to ignore it, say no it’s not there, I’m fine, I’m doing really well. If prodded, we’ll recoil from the touch.
I thought for a while that I was different. I didn’t have this wound that I was able to sense in others. Continue reading “The Wound”
I was introduced to a woman selling her book to help raise funds for Puerto Rico. Her book was about consent, a topic that appeared very important to her. She also gave holistic healing to sexual assault survivors. In my brief encounter with her, we talked about consent. She asked me if I was taught about sexual consent in school. I replied that no, no school of mine has ever offered such a class. She seemed to think that was wrong, that they should have courses dedicated to the topic. I told her that I had nonetheless managed to learn the proper role of sexual consent, and that I did so from my family and from life in general. She was genuinely curious and asked how my family taught me consent, but we were interrupted and the question lay in the air unanswered.
Continue reading “A Belief in Romance: A better way to talk about Consent”
It’s nigh impossible to convince someone of a joy they have not yet fathomed. What I mean by these are those special experiences which have great potential to occur, yet will in all likelihood never exist. Continue reading “A Joy Unfathomed, part 1”
There’s a scene caught in my subconscious, revealed to me in fluttering images. She’s standing at a balcony’s edge, or is it the ocean. She’s wearing red. Deep rose red. Like blood. And she’s looking away. There’s a breeze caressing her, flaring up the loose cloth of her garment. Accentuating her form. Rippling waves through her long dark hair.
Continue reading “she”
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what it is exactly that I want from life. What do kind of adventures do I want to partake in? What stories do I want to be a part of. What games should I play. To what places should I go. What should my days be like. What should my home look like. The level of minutia to which I could ask these questions could be exhaustive, and the number of possible questions is infinite, but certainly some deserve answering. How shall I set myself up to live the kind of life that I would deem worth living? We’ll leave it at that level.
Continue reading “Worldly Plans”
We are dreaming. Weightless, caught inside imagistic flurry. Ungrounded in the absence of a sense of direction, or ground. At waking hour we slip away from our dream state to again inhabit our being. Not yet, we say, our eyes weighing down, urging us to go back to dreaming. And the dream returns. We sink back into comfortable oblivion. A seed of an image begins to unfold before us. No, wake up. Wake up. What for? Wake up! Wake up! Continue reading “Into the Heart of Loneliness”