Life in the sun
Discover more from Unforeseen, unforsaken
We blink, and Life happens.
When we were small, the time didn’t seem to pass quick enough, and now
we can barely get it to last.
Every minute, we grow. Roots form and they spread across places we cannot see and we may then wonder
when they got there, and how long it might be before they’re gone,
or they rot out — because we blink, and Life happens.
A few months ago, my roommate gave me a cutting of a plant, warning me that every other cutting she’d given away had died in the care of someone else.
Another friend told me that this particular plant almost never survived propagation, which stirred in me thoughts about the impossibility of one becoming altogether new and independent, but I didn’t let my mind wander.
I trust my friends.
I won’t say I was determined to make the cutting live or thrive, but I hate to fail, and I always welcome a challenge. At the very least, I didn’t want it to wither and die.
So I transplanted it to a new pot and worked hard to keep the soil moist.
Beyond that there was not much else I could do. I can’t detect roots through soil. It became a waiting game.
Eventually I moved the pot to a shelf high above my head, hoping that might help. When I’d take her down to water her, I’d rub down her three big leaves to rid her of collecting dust. Gently, I’d finger water into the tender place where I knew leaves might eventually form, but as time went on, nothing change.
However, last week, when I came back from a trip to see my family, I noticed a difference. The stem’s thin film (encasing a tender new growth) had grown bigger.
A few days later, I found it had popped open, as a slim, tightly rolled leaf began separating from her stem.
And today, this sensitive little girl has now split entirely from her mama, and begun to unravel upwards
toward the sky.
She is greener, stronger, and more independent, but she is not finished.
This morning I had a moment as this revelation about life and timing and growth clicked into place. Then came the irony.
I suppose she and I are growing together now and I will tell you that I was secretly jealous that she is not undergoing the transitions that I am,
that she is not sad like I am, but then I said:
She has a much more fragile root system than you do, darling and
Her odds of making it are much slimmer than yours are and
She is just now being born, but you have been growing for many years and
You can take care of yourself but
She needs you.
I suppose that sometimes life and growth reveal itself in time, when we are ready. (But also, sometimes we are not ready, so what do we do then?!!! More on that another time.)
When we are ready, we come to the truth and to the clarity and to the answers we’ve longed for.
We come to forgiveness.
We come to the changes we’ve been preparing for (or not) and to the inevitable unraveling required of us.
We peel back so we come to the mess.
We face realities of love and of its unyielding, astounding impression on us.
I hope you are taking care of yourself, too.
A
An April poem:
Pulling blood from a
stone — your reddening fire, your
razor sharp skyline.
Culture(?) section
I finished The Last of Us and I want to play the game, but I am also floored by the sheer helplessness I felt watching the episodes so I don’t want to have any control in the matter right now. I have jumped into the deep end of Reddit’s Pedro Pascal sub, a man who is breaking the internet, and watched women in their 30s and 40s spend so much time obsessing over him. And I get it, because he’s absolutely delicious, but what I have seen in the comments over there is dirty. I love it.
Last night I saw Isabel Pless, Donovan Woods, and Henry Jamison in concert and it was devastating and beautiful and moving. I cried a lot, mainly because Donovan Woods seems to love sad songs, and after listening to Henry for 7 years, I finally sat witness to his immense talent, and he signed my hat and that made me happy.
Check out my favorites from each of them:
I’m Around, Donovan Woods (Starts at 1:38)
Ether Garden, Henry Jamison
and More to Give, Isabel Pless
I’m still not back on Instagram, which is refreshing in a way I can’t describe, yet frustrating because offline I have very little idea what’s going on socially or culturally, event-wise. That said, go check out Bread Box, an up-and-coming queer-owned event space run by the most wonderful people… where I’ll (soon!) be hosting poetry events!!!
Finally, if you don’t already know, queer and trans folks (youth and adults) are under attack via legislation all. over. our. country. right now and some of the bills they’ve got cooking are absolutely horrific, and will not only affect the lives of trans youth, but will also lead to significant rollbacks. Do research, make calls, write emails, tell your cis friends(!!!!!), and spread the word. Lawmakers, especially those in deep red, Southern states, are not looking to “protect children.” They are interested in eradicating queer and trans folks, period. They will make whatever egregious, unfounded claims they need to in order to push this agenda. This isn’t a joke. When Roe V. Wade came under attack, people were up in arms and wanted support from every corner of the country. Where are those people when trans livelihood hangs in the balance?