Responses to a recent tweet by Pete Buttigieg rightly called out the presidential candidate for his use of the phrase "American Heartland" as "code for white." The incident raises interesting linguistic questions about how we unpack complex cultural metaphors.
I can't tell you how honored I am to be included among a handful of amazing writers and artists in the most recent issue of Third Point Press, a literary journal that hails from my very own hometown of Lancaster, PA. (There's an extra special thrill in getting published somewhere that even your mom has heard of!) Check out my piece, "Abstracted."
Are you okay?
I only ask because
your selections of late
have gone rather grim.
Not an ode to joy
not one kiss.
I am writing you
the way a gazelle
must grow ever sleeker
the indelicate jaws
of the lion.
Crow in a birch tree
shakes rain from its wings...
When it comes to questions of how to respond to the cultural demand to "honor the soldiers who died for you" -- what should my honor look like?
It is enough to show up to this act of intention. Without the need to grasp what cannot be grasped. Without the need to name what cannot be named.
To hold my heart like a candle wick, steady, upright, held open to the presence of my gods.
How much do I allow my life to be governed by my decisions? How open am I to making real choices, on a daily basis?
How much do I allow my life to be governed by my decisions about how the world and how people "ought to be," and how I "ought to behave"? How open am I to making real choices, on a daily basis, facing up to the potential within every single moment to integrate love and free will, and to respond to the diversity and interconnection of an ever-shifting and always surprising reality? This is what I thought about as I walked in the woods this morning.
An animist is never alone, not really. But how does that help an introvert?