Beloved friends,
You're getting me in prose-poetry stream-of-consciousness today, which I hope you enjoy; as you will read, I am jetlagged and sleep-deprived, though happy and well!
Since speaking to you last I have climbed into winged metal tube and flown across the continent, from the Pacific Coast to the Atlantic Coast, twice. I sat among the clouds, and above the clouds, and it was absolutely normal, and it was a miracle. Oh, the awe of gazing upon the clouds from above the clouds. What a wonder!
Recently I switched from our warmer-side-of-the-year linen sheets to our cooler-side-of-the-year flannel sheets. Every time I savor how good the sheets feel against my skin as I climb in at night or wake in the morning, I think of a loved one with gratitude. When we moved from Mexico to Washington we spent one night in California: we flew from Banderas Bay to the San Francisco Bay. We arrived, went to sleep, got up, picked up a U-Haul, filled it with what we'd stored 5 years before, and drove it to Washington that same day. Upon waking the one morning I woke in Oakland, in a bed I've awakened in many times, in the home of beloved friends, I adored the sheets. I said so as we parted. My friend, knowing that I owned little and needed much at that time, insisted that I just remove them from the bed and take them with me. Oh, my heart! My eyes fill with tears as I remember this. I think of her again, again: the kindness, the generosity, the everyday miracle of friendship and love.
One day I volunteered with the Gleaners here. I carried the big ladder from the truck into each yard, set it up. Climbed it. Reached up and picked fruit, set it carefully into the bag I was wearing. When the bag was too heavy to carry any more, or when I'd picked all the fruit I could reach in that spot, I climbed down, set the fruit carefully in a box, moved the ladder, and did it again. Again. Apples and pears. I will be 56 years old in a few weeks and all my life, I had no idea how much work it was to pick fruit. Every apple now, every orange, even more treasure. The simple miracle of what comes with such ease to us. The gift that we are given by those who pick for us. The treasure of human labor, of our interconnections.
When I remember the miracle, when I remember awe and wonder, when I cultivate these, I can remember: I am lucky, blessed, privileged, grateful. Clean water runs from my walls in multiple temperatures. Electricity, too, runs from the walls. I can be warm in the winter. Goodness. These blessings.
When I visited my mother, I helped. She saves the everyday dangerous tasks for me now: carrying the porch furniture down the rickety basement stairs for winter. Climbing the ladder to replace the lightbulbs. Moving the furniture to get the rug up, to lay the new rug down, to move the old rug to another room. We took the bed apart, bit by bit, to lay the old rug in a new place. We got stuck, again and again, behind the mattress, the box spring, against the wardrobe. We paused, we considered, we schemed. We described our ideas and when we could not understand each other we described them again, again, calmly. We got a little piece of paper to pretend it was the rug to say, "What I mean is if we folded it up like this..." and we never raised our voices. We never got impatient. Long years of practice, of bringing our best intentions, of healing. The trust we have built. The blessing, the miracle of loving relationship.
My trip home Monday began after 5 hours of sleep and it was 24 hours before I was in bed again. Rising at one ocean, sleeping at the other. The trip was due to take 12 hours and took 24. The computer said to check the engine, so: deplane, rebook, reboard, rebook again, rebook again. 7 hours in O'Hare airport between flights, sitting at a little table, writing the replies for my Workshop for Living that week. Hours in the middle seat. Gentle good spirits all the way through: a miracle, a little miracle, this resilience and goodwill. I know I will get home. I am safe. There is food. I have work; I have a good book. Enjoying the journey. Surrendering to the moment, delight, surprise.
James, driving 2.5 hours to get me at SeaTac just two days after he made the trip home himself, pausing only for a moment so I could climb into the truck and then turning to drive 2.5 hours back home to the forest. In love, in love. The miracle of the truck which for four months was our home between land and sea as we considered where to land. The miracle of the marriage.
Miracles, miracles. The blessing of life.
There is so much that is hard now. What a respite it was to spend a week and a bit awash in miracles. May I remember. May it fuel me. May you remember. May it fuel you.
Love,
Dahlia
Resources
Safety and Wellness
Azelastine is a drug we've had for a long time; it was approved by the FDA in 1996. More recently, we have realized that in addition to the antihistamine affect it has been used for for decades, it also has antiviral properties. A study came out in September showing that it significantly reduced the spread of Covid, RSV, and influenza (H1N1). I, of course, am not your doctor, but this would be a great thing to discuss with them.
Laughter is the Best Medicine
I am having tremendous fun exploring your comedy recommendations. Thank you so much! I nearly hurt myself listening to Josh Johnson, a fantastic Black comedian known for his work with The Daily Show, doing this bit: Drake vs. Kendrick Explained for White People and this one, in which he tells about the times he has given someone The Ick. Thanks to Stella
A New Personality Type
Have you heard of otroversion? This is a new description for a type of personality that is neither introvert nor extrovert. Psychiatrist Rami Kaminski has coined this new term. "So if introverts look inwards, and extroverts outwards, where the hell do otroverts look? Neither of the above. 'Their fundamental orientation is defined by the fact that it is rarely the same direction that anyone else is facing.'" – that is from a quick little article in The Guardian that can help you orient. If you'd like to read more, here is Kaminski's organization: The Otherness Institute, which has a lot more to say on this topic. How exciting to have new ways to say and know ourselves and one another!
Appreciation
Someone sent a message recently that tickled me, and I tucked it away with the things I might share with you. It made me smile to hear this beloved person using her skills in a loving way. Thanks to A.
"I was thinking of you at 7am this morning as I did my dental meditations in the dentist chair."
Resistance is Love in Action
Oh, beloveds, has the election given you a lift? I hope so.
Zohran Mamdani's election-night victory speech felt like watching history. 23 minutes of hope, determination, and we-not-I. May Democratic Socialism bring much good to my former home of New York City.
The Catholic church has begun a campaign called, "One Church, One Family: Catholic Public Witness for Immigrants." Chicago Cardinal Blase Cupich released a statement which says that "the Church stands with migrants", and in Philadelphia, Catholics protested outside an ICE facility.
Defiance.org is a new organization who position themselves as "a club for courageous Americans". You pledge a monthly amount (anything, down to $1) and get a monthly briefing about actions and causes. You pick what to support and Defiance funds the top choices and offers more support for action. Thanks to Charley
My daily resistance actions practice is now several weeks deep and has revolutionized the state of my heart and mind. Some days the action has been small, just signing a petition someone else in my texting group has shared, but normalizing action just means more and more action. Action breeds hope. And my-and-our small actions add up to the big movement we need to remove power from people with terrible intentions. May it be so!
Supporting Me in Supporting You
I invest half of a day in the creation of this newsletter each week, for which I earn less than I'd get paid if I spent that time working at McDonald's. I want to keep this up! I want to continue to offer it freely for widest access. That will only be possible if folks who can support my work choose to do so. I'd be grateful for your support in supporting you! Feeling grateful for me today? You can make a one-time donation of thanks of any size right here. Thanks to Jordan for suggesting I include this! Want to support me in an ongoing way? You can upgrade to a paid subscription for as little as $5/month. Thanks to Becca for stepping up to do that last week!
If you're a reader of books and you buy them from indie Bookshop.org by starting at my bookshop, I will receive a commission of 10%, even if those books aren't in my shop. Thanks to whoever bought Enshittification this way recently! (Bookshop tells me what the titles are; they don't tell me who boughta them.)
Sharing my newsletter with others when it moves you is also a wonderful support; this increases my readership, which hopefully leads to more support in time.
If you are a supporter, thank you; it means the world to me to know you value my work in the world, and it puts food on my table.
