the growth of liberation

i’m coming to terms with something.

i don’t want another course. i don’t want another somatics for the resistance intensive.

i want things that are smaller, more simple, less instagram flashy, more visceral and fleshy and real.

i want you to walk alongside me while i do my work and see what this practice looks like.

or we meet every night at sunset and put our fingers in the dirt and i hold space for you to practice noticing what it feels like, viscerally, to touch the grit of the land.

not advertised, not graphic-ked. a simple invitation.

you come every night at sunset and we feel, together.

that’s the kind of thing i think we need.

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this weekend eila asked me if there are any ancestors who support me in this work. i feel wholly unsupported and i said “sort of? maybe my (paternal) grandpa. and my maternal grandfather who I put on the altar.”

then i thought about it and thought about it and thought about it and realized that both of these men loved to grow things.

and i also love to grow things.

and perhaps revolution and change and trans liberation and resisting white supremacy and liberation in general is not about a big moment

but the tiny moments of belonging that we find in this simple gesture.

feeling together. side by side.

growing things.

the daily moments we choose and practice to stop the violence.* (Susan Raffo, Liberated to the Bone)

you and me at sunset.

feeling the dirt

between our fingers.

letting the ants walk their simple pathways

instead of smushing them in our fingers.

you and me at sunset

and the land.

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