all that and more
What can I give to you? My dear strangers, I want to give you a small light that guides you into a place that feels familiar and brand fucking new. I want to transmit a feeling that sometimes wells up in me when I read--a sense of being a part of this world. A sense that there is so much I don't know and an optimism about how to seek my way into knowing more. I know that these are luxury feelings and also deeply essential. Maybe, for you it can be found in the way a song moves you; in the deep, sacred sound of a bass string struck with tenderness; in the way a person's eyes meet yours when you are fighting back tears and they raise their chin in solidarity; in the way your five dollar bill folds into the fist of another who needs it more; in the way your dog's belly heaves with satisfaction when you scratch her chest; in the way a reverence for a pot of beans can change an empty day into a full one.
The magic of words is that they can transport us or ground us, bind us or free us, be silent or raucous. I wish for you the gift of radical words that give you just what you need.