You brought the tears this morning, Neko. But beauty usually does. The first thing that came to my mind for strange beauty was a moment about a month after my wife died. Before I lost her she’d been prompting me for months to call the gutter cleaners because all of the fall’s leaves were still piled on the roof. I kept putting it off because I hate making phone calls. I finally made myself make the call because it seemed like one thing I could handle without asking my friends for help. I made the call and scheduled appointment and then walked outside to breathe in the fresh air. As soon as I stepped onto the back deck a huge gust of wind came and blew an insane amount of leaves onto my head. It was a ridiculous amount of leaves. I felt like I was in a movie but better because I felt her laughing presence. Browned and fallen white oak leaves aren’t typically what would catch my eyes as beautiful but they were on that day.
I actually think in this time of war, violence, political insanity, entirely too much hate in the world - the need for musings about beauty, and love, and joy, and community, are needed more than ever. So thank you. The human race would be so much better of we all spent some time appreciating all the beauty that surrounds us. For me, every spring, when the color comes flooding back into the world is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. We all feel the pain so much, so easily - we give time to the pain. It is a essential for humanity that we give time, energy, credence to the good in life as well.
I’ve had two experiences of an incredible beauty at an extremely heartbreaking and scary time. The first was the day of 9/11, I was watching the news waiting for my dear friend to come over, we had a day of riding in the pastures and then working in my ceramic studio planned. When my friend arrived she found me crying watching what we would soon realize was too horrible to ever imagine. We both walked outside and stared at the incredible beautiful blue sky and cried how could something so horrible be happening on such a perfect day.
The second time was during the first week of Covid shutdown, we were all so in shock and uncertain of what the future would bring. My boyfriend and I were cleaning our horses stalls. Finding some peace in doing our daily barn work. I look out the Dutch door and see something red flashing by, then another flash, to our surprise and delight four fox cubs out playing games right in front of the barn! What a gift those little pups were!
18 years old, not long into "being on my own" and a thousand miles from family. I had zero food on Wednesday and didn't get paid until Friday. I found a field of wild blackberries. Their colors were beautiful, their availability was beautiful, and their taste was Angelic beautiful.
Thank you Neko. You, too, have brought so much beauty into our lives, and helped me tune into the beauty I find around me.
It’s a strange thing to currently be living my best life ever and thriving in ways I didn’t know possible, during perhaps the darkest time of war and atrocity that I’ve been alive to witness.
For me, that comes with a sense of responsibility: of projecting the joy, amplifying the beauty, to help make my Trans siblings feel strong enough to withstand it — and as you say, insisting on calling the genocides what they are; insisting that all the joy and beauty we’re cultivating in our community be understood as part of a greater cause, for the liberation of all people.
The empires will fall, though tragically many will be crushed in their collapse. Somehow, through it all, the beauty of living will persist.
I am so glad to have caught your writing here. I often feel the same though it is hard. I know that abuse whilst not to be tolerated or accepted , is actually a symptom of abuse. I’ve thought the same thing , that it is a script. I’ve seen scripts passed down in families, communities… there’s a type of broken that festers if it isn’t healed … trying to see the human that got lost in that , is hard work but it is possible and there examples of it if we look for them. Thanks for sharing your thoughts.
Thank you friend. Nowhere in the world is this more evident than in Gaza: where Israel — a powerful, Western-backed nation-state with as much might and force as any entity in the world — exploits the very real horrors historically (and currently) inflicted on Jews as a justification to bring all the violence of Western imperialism down on the colonized Palestinian people from whom it stole an entire country.
The genocide of Palestinians is the cycle of abuse writ large: “hurt people hurt people” on a global scale. It used all the same DARVO tactics as an everyday domestic abuser, blaming the victim and painting itself as the abused. Sarah Schulman’s book ‘Conflict Is Not Abuse’ tells this story in staggering detail, zooming out slowly from the individual example to the apartheid and genocide of Palestinian people.
And in this case, we also see the entirety of capitalism manipulating the traumatized abuser, using the IDF as a testing ground for new means of global dominance and a way to assert the position of Western capital in Middle Eastern markets.
It is no coincidence that every single Transgender person I know, except two raised under Israeli propaganda, is vehemently speaking out against the Palestinian genocide — in the time of our *own* genocide around the world.
The personal is political; the political is personal. We must bring the same clarity of purpose and commitment to justice, to both.
I agree <3 I understand though I haven’t read that book, I’ve been aware of the situation in Palestine for many years and I’ve worked actively in the community to raise funds and implement projects for trauma relief a largely in conjunction with centers for those fleeing from
war and persecution.. but basically any human beings who’ve suffered trauma or abuse, so please know how sorry I am that this world is how it is for you and you have an ally here. I’ll try to get hold of the copy of the book and am always grateful for recommendations. I admire your commitment to communicate about all of this so tirelessly. I’ll take a look at your page & at some point I will update mine with learnings around healing modalities incase that’s ever of interest. ❤️
Many years ago I was on a shuttle between the Orlando airport and the rental car center. We were on one of those big cloverleaf extensions connecting one highway to another. In the center of the cloverleaf was a big pond and there were at least two score of big, pink birds. Flamingos? Something like them. I'm sure I gasped aloud. The shuttle bus was maybe half full, but I swear every single other person had their nose buried in their Blackberry (that's how long ago it was, pre-cell phone fucking stupid Blackberries). I could not imagine what was more important there on that screen than the proof that these magnificent creatures were existing right outside our window. It was astounding and I've never forgotten it.
One of my mother's favorite flowers was the purple lilac. So I appreciate your appreciation of them, and the photo as well. We had a big tall bush of them in our back yard in Southern NH when I was young. I miss them both, my Mom and the lilacs of NH.
I had an emergency hysterectomy and the room they gave me was in the empty maternity ward, so I had the best room, overlooking the Baltimore Harbor. It was March and everything was quiet and still, no tourists. Watching the moon rise over the water (on pain meds) was so beautiful.
"My heart breaks for every possiblity." You have well described my emotional state for the last year and a half, and especially the last few weeks and days. I am privileged and surrounded by beautiful experiences large and small, in nature, with family, with strangers. With the atrocities happening elsewhere, some of those moments can feel profane, and I feel a mixture of guilt and gratitude. But I'm trying to be present, contribute with my voice and my actions and my resources and teach my children to do the same. It's so hard to reconcile. What you are sharing and putting out into the world helps; thank you.
When grieving the death of my father. Cracked me open raw to receive the full spectrum of life, including how fucking beautiful it is in the midst of such loss and sadness.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts and the view of your beautiful landscape, I found this just after my great friend Jeffs funeral service in Melbourne, the grounds of the cemetery were so beautiful. Almost incongruous with the grief we were wrestling with, the gentle reminder that nature has that power to renew, that evening the sunset was insanely vivid and we ate pho at a great Vietnamese restaurant in Springvale. I just feel so weary of the words that hover and fall into nothing while my heart is breaking.
Then we drove 700 kilometres through this vast place inculcated with indigenous culture for over 50k years and my wife and I just quietly drove home.
A small park overlooking Lake Michigan near the mental hospital caring for my mother as a young boy always made me feel beauty. One of the most incredible places to wait for a bus.
A girl, (a woman) in college. Of course right? When I first noticed her the whole room, and my ego, disappeared. When I came back to my senses I noticed my jaw was opened in awe. Then I crawled back in my skin. I tried eventually to let her know but it wasn’t to be and I’m about as smooth as a belt sander.
I can think of two times in particular I was struck by spectacular beauty around us. During the first spring of the COVID pandemic, everything seemed wonderfully lush and colorful, more than ever before for some reason. Coincidence? The other was last June when my mom suddenly passed; nerves and senses all on high alert, winding down I-77 through the mountains of West Virginia everything seemed so defiantly alive.
You brought the tears this morning, Neko. But beauty usually does. The first thing that came to my mind for strange beauty was a moment about a month after my wife died. Before I lost her she’d been prompting me for months to call the gutter cleaners because all of the fall’s leaves were still piled on the roof. I kept putting it off because I hate making phone calls. I finally made myself make the call because it seemed like one thing I could handle without asking my friends for help. I made the call and scheduled appointment and then walked outside to breathe in the fresh air. As soon as I stepped onto the back deck a huge gust of wind came and blew an insane amount of leaves onto my head. It was a ridiculous amount of leaves. I felt like I was in a movie but better because I felt her laughing presence. Browned and fallen white oak leaves aren’t typically what would catch my eyes as beautiful but they were on that day.
Wow, in one with naturę.
I actually think in this time of war, violence, political insanity, entirely too much hate in the world - the need for musings about beauty, and love, and joy, and community, are needed more than ever. So thank you. The human race would be so much better of we all spent some time appreciating all the beauty that surrounds us. For me, every spring, when the color comes flooding back into the world is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. We all feel the pain so much, so easily - we give time to the pain. It is a essential for humanity that we give time, energy, credence to the good in life as well.
After being diagnosed with cancer and wandering around my yard to soak in the new feelings and leucasperum (sp) blooms.
Sorry to hear about environmental illness that isn’t classified as such and isn’t treated by hospital for that angle
I’ve had two experiences of an incredible beauty at an extremely heartbreaking and scary time. The first was the day of 9/11, I was watching the news waiting for my dear friend to come over, we had a day of riding in the pastures and then working in my ceramic studio planned. When my friend arrived she found me crying watching what we would soon realize was too horrible to ever imagine. We both walked outside and stared at the incredible beautiful blue sky and cried how could something so horrible be happening on such a perfect day.
The second time was during the first week of Covid shutdown, we were all so in shock and uncertain of what the future would bring. My boyfriend and I were cleaning our horses stalls. Finding some peace in doing our daily barn work. I look out the Dutch door and see something red flashing by, then another flash, to our surprise and delight four fox cubs out playing games right in front of the barn! What a gift those little pups were!
18 years old, not long into "being on my own" and a thousand miles from family. I had zero food on Wednesday and didn't get paid until Friday. I found a field of wild blackberries. Their colors were beautiful, their availability was beautiful, and their taste was Angelic beautiful.
Thank you Neko. You, too, have brought so much beauty into our lives, and helped me tune into the beauty I find around me.
It’s a strange thing to currently be living my best life ever and thriving in ways I didn’t know possible, during perhaps the darkest time of war and atrocity that I’ve been alive to witness.
For me, that comes with a sense of responsibility: of projecting the joy, amplifying the beauty, to help make my Trans siblings feel strong enough to withstand it — and as you say, insisting on calling the genocides what they are; insisting that all the joy and beauty we’re cultivating in our community be understood as part of a greater cause, for the liberation of all people.
The empires will fall, though tragically many will be crushed in their collapse. Somehow, through it all, the beauty of living will persist.
I am so glad to have caught your writing here. I often feel the same though it is hard. I know that abuse whilst not to be tolerated or accepted , is actually a symptom of abuse. I’ve thought the same thing , that it is a script. I’ve seen scripts passed down in families, communities… there’s a type of broken that festers if it isn’t healed … trying to see the human that got lost in that , is hard work but it is possible and there examples of it if we look for them. Thanks for sharing your thoughts.
Thank you friend. Nowhere in the world is this more evident than in Gaza: where Israel — a powerful, Western-backed nation-state with as much might and force as any entity in the world — exploits the very real horrors historically (and currently) inflicted on Jews as a justification to bring all the violence of Western imperialism down on the colonized Palestinian people from whom it stole an entire country.
The genocide of Palestinians is the cycle of abuse writ large: “hurt people hurt people” on a global scale. It used all the same DARVO tactics as an everyday domestic abuser, blaming the victim and painting itself as the abused. Sarah Schulman’s book ‘Conflict Is Not Abuse’ tells this story in staggering detail, zooming out slowly from the individual example to the apartheid and genocide of Palestinian people.
And in this case, we also see the entirety of capitalism manipulating the traumatized abuser, using the IDF as a testing ground for new means of global dominance and a way to assert the position of Western capital in Middle Eastern markets.
It is no coincidence that every single Transgender person I know, except two raised under Israeli propaganda, is vehemently speaking out against the Palestinian genocide — in the time of our *own* genocide around the world.
The personal is political; the political is personal. We must bring the same clarity of purpose and commitment to justice, to both.
I agree <3 I understand though I haven’t read that book, I’ve been aware of the situation in Palestine for many years and I’ve worked actively in the community to raise funds and implement projects for trauma relief a largely in conjunction with centers for those fleeing from
war and persecution.. but basically any human beings who’ve suffered trauma or abuse, so please know how sorry I am that this world is how it is for you and you have an ally here. I’ll try to get hold of the copy of the book and am always grateful for recommendations. I admire your commitment to communicate about all of this so tirelessly. I’ll take a look at your page & at some point I will update mine with learnings around healing modalities incase that’s ever of interest. ❤️
Many years ago I was on a shuttle between the Orlando airport and the rental car center. We were on one of those big cloverleaf extensions connecting one highway to another. In the center of the cloverleaf was a big pond and there were at least two score of big, pink birds. Flamingos? Something like them. I'm sure I gasped aloud. The shuttle bus was maybe half full, but I swear every single other person had their nose buried in their Blackberry (that's how long ago it was, pre-cell phone fucking stupid Blackberries). I could not imagine what was more important there on that screen than the proof that these magnificent creatures were existing right outside our window. It was astounding and I've never forgotten it.
One of my mother's favorite flowers was the purple lilac. So I appreciate your appreciation of them, and the photo as well. We had a big tall bush of them in our back yard in Southern NH when I was young. I miss them both, my Mom and the lilacs of NH.
I had an emergency hysterectomy and the room they gave me was in the empty maternity ward, so I had the best room, overlooking the Baltimore Harbor. It was March and everything was quiet and still, no tourists. Watching the moon rise over the water (on pain meds) was so beautiful.
"My heart breaks for every possiblity." You have well described my emotional state for the last year and a half, and especially the last few weeks and days. I am privileged and surrounded by beautiful experiences large and small, in nature, with family, with strangers. With the atrocities happening elsewhere, some of those moments can feel profane, and I feel a mixture of guilt and gratitude. But I'm trying to be present, contribute with my voice and my actions and my resources and teach my children to do the same. It's so hard to reconcile. What you are sharing and putting out into the world helps; thank you.
When grieving the death of my father. Cracked me open raw to receive the full spectrum of life, including how fucking beautiful it is in the midst of such loss and sadness.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts and the view of your beautiful landscape, I found this just after my great friend Jeffs funeral service in Melbourne, the grounds of the cemetery were so beautiful. Almost incongruous with the grief we were wrestling with, the gentle reminder that nature has that power to renew, that evening the sunset was insanely vivid and we ate pho at a great Vietnamese restaurant in Springvale. I just feel so weary of the words that hover and fall into nothing while my heart is breaking.
Then we drove 700 kilometres through this vast place inculcated with indigenous culture for over 50k years and my wife and I just quietly drove home.
A small park overlooking Lake Michigan near the mental hospital caring for my mother as a young boy always made me feel beauty. One of the most incredible places to wait for a bus.
A girl, (a woman) in college. Of course right? When I first noticed her the whole room, and my ego, disappeared. When I came back to my senses I noticed my jaw was opened in awe. Then I crawled back in my skin. I tried eventually to let her know but it wasn’t to be and I’m about as smooth as a belt sander.
I can think of two times in particular I was struck by spectacular beauty around us. During the first spring of the COVID pandemic, everything seemed wonderfully lush and colorful, more than ever before for some reason. Coincidence? The other was last June when my mom suddenly passed; nerves and senses all on high alert, winding down I-77 through the mountains of West Virginia everything seemed so defiantly alive.
“The greens are as saturated as they get.”