time for the long waited thank-you, for sharing with me so much grace!
When i say thank you, it doesn’t mean it was all joys, it doesn’t mean i would draw it up the same way every time -No- the gratitude means; for all that it was/is i love and acknowledge it as a part of who i am now- Its time i remember all the beauty that waits at the surface and is rooted into the depths.
It can be so complicated trying to say thank you. I sometimes feel guilty of so much and angery at all the rest. Guilty for not knowing my history, guilty for not knowing and not moving when you cry.
I don’t agree with folks that think guilt is a useless feeling or a “bad” one. Instead i choose to think that guilt is utterly more complex, and is better looked as a piece in growth like the sprout of a seed trying to grow through its hard hull. But guilt definitely is not a feel that is often useful in discussions or any social space. In turn guilt is an internal dialogue within myself growing up. Eventually through time it moved into conversations with other loves in my life. And so i have such big hugs and kisses for the tapestry of folks i met and re-met in the past 2 years who have helped these guilt’s (and many other emotions and feelings) rearrange into a desires and a motivation. ~ names all-ways changing, we could all use some water 😉
Since this bog will be filled with bugs buzzing about Palestine and the need to re-confront my ignorance and our hopes over and over; i must admit my shaky deep love for the two years of organizing and learning with the folks involved with hampster college students for Justice in Palestine (SJP). A serious awakening to organizing in a institutional setting, and the challenges we all face organizing in ways that do not continue to repeat the violence of social organizing that I was taught to work within, while also opening up to a wider framework of thinking.. eeks!
On a similar line i want to write a thank you to all the Palestinian’s whether diaspora living around the world or folks in Gaza, the West bank or within Palestine 48′. Beyond all the wonderful individual people we be, we also carry with us history: in our blood, on our skin, through our memories, and with our dreams. And the folks i have met who can dream of Palestine have shared in their actions, words, and laughs a story that was not possible in the homes i grew up in. It is due to your courage, out-rage, resilience, and your compassion that i have even the wish, reason, ability to find a way to help pull the lever that will bring these walls down around the universe and inside. Constantly reminded that this should not be a conflict in which american jews are the “chosen people” to fix it. The expectationalism of my dreamed-up history lies on the drawing table never so clearly as when those of you are near. Always reminding me to look “home”. I am always eager and excited for the next moments we meet, or to once again read your words or listen to your music- Abeer (AKA Sabreena Da Witch) who’s music, performance and presence has deeply pulled me to the ground and comforted my understandings. The naming of the witch’s intifada so seriously shook me and the wolves are crying :0
The family with my mother- michele, danny, missiles, peter, carly, ben, jackie, and peet. Mom for all the cutting through that you have done, to put your self in places that were never ready for a persyn of your fierce velocity- for your desire to shield your children from economy- including the finances for this travel to Palestine* and thus giving me this particular insight into privilege. All of my sisters and brothers in the family; each love feels so unique, each one waiting for the time and space to actually see what it is our relationships hold. But for all the intimate and vulnerable times we have spent near one another- the times we felt like the lost kids in the whirl-winds of a grown-up world that never made any sense. And for all the anger that boiled over and the pain we have inflicted on each other when we knew of nothing else to do. Lastly to all the excited, strange, awkward, melancholy Sunday evenings returning home from our different lives. Thank-you thank you!
The family with father- annie, larry, Nanna, and Nelly. Annie for your never-ending love, your desire to go on walks, and stop all violence even if it’s just an excited hug! Thank you also annie for always being there with my father keeping him warm when he’s lonely. Dad for your refusal to wait to share, your always challenging deep focus on the now and here- for your fascination with the past that sometimes grips you with tremors. Thanking you also for your mystic dreams, and your courage to always be a romantic lover, a crying daddy and a compassionate grizzly taurus. For being friends with a gal like me! Nanna for all the phone calls we have had, “we do the best we can”, “day by day”. Uncle/brother Nelly thank you for your honesty, your clear immiadiate emotions, and you desire to be around with smiles.
every-creature i have met and all those that passed in between my glances, to all the butterflies landing on my shoulder, the fairies that rubbed my tumy when lost in the cold.
ill start here.
i have a whole life to give thanks 🙂
forever thankful that all is incomplete, and that i need not “shoot for perfection”. i let go of expectations since each day will still just pass on through. Perhaps the rains keep falling, and nothing ever seems quite clear, i trip and thats it. But will all-ways wish it so that the stardusts do glow.