Today is a day which doesn’t seem to begin with the letter ”c” in any language. Monday, moaning-day, moon-day: a day improved by mooning about, mooching, and meandering. It’s the second anniversary of first pandemic walking and its consolations; that’s your first c-word, consolation. Weigh it in your hand, a friendly pebble. Walk it through its four syllables. Two paces up to a tree. A penultimate pause when you hug the tree (consentingly, always ask first) and breathe out; the Latin lato that’s the wide embrace as you’re carried and suffered by the tree; a last syllable as you murmur thanks quietly and fast, a little shy in case anyone overhears you communing with a tree, and you turn and go on your way, a little eased.
(more…)Month: March 2022
utopian dreaming (2) – philanthropy
This is a post of what I hope might be useful resources for other sentient sensitive sensible human beings here in Vancouver, or Canada, or this continent, hemisphere, planet. Caveats follow further down. It’s a fast post, the basic short version done for a friend, A., via Facebook (and so, private) two days ago, which feels like two years these days and I’d imagine—as far as I can or may respectfully imagine—two decades if you’re in Ukraine or recently fled. I’m writing other things but this here felt more urgent to prioritise and get out right now.
(more…)
Juliet O’Brien 