Hermeto Pascoal, Iporanga, 1985

Not poetry, but needs to be said.

Here is what my mother told me when I was young: the world is harsh. It is unforgiving and it has teeth. Take no shit.

Here is what I have learned from the world: it is wounded and the humans scattered throughout it are rarely the rats of Rat Park, they are the tired, trembling experiments in need of more kindness, not less. Do no harm.

Here's what I have learned from the world: humans are good. They are soft, and gentle, and they are wounded, all of them. When humans were young and wild, they looked at the snarling beasts that came to their fires, the ones with sharp teeth in their long muzzles, and they saw soft fur and the welcome-home wag of a tail.

Here is what I have seen: Given an opportunity, humans will choose creation and love. They will create art, and music, and community. They will tell each other stories, sing each other songs, help each other heal. Even without safety, even when it wounds them, they will love. They will love each other - their family, their friends, their mates - and they will love the world.

Here is what I have seen: there is hope. Sometimes it is ugly and twisted and burns, but humans will hold onto it with both hands and their entire heart. They will share it with one another. They will use it to tame beasts with fur and teeth as well as the ones that live inside of themselves. They will create because of it; they will say I hope this makes someone smile, I hope this makes someone cry. I hope this saves someone. And it will.

Here is what I know to be true: evidence of a healed broken bone from thousands of years ago reminds us that what makes us human isn't our wounds, but how we care for one another through them.

Here is what my mother told me: the world will gnash its sharp teeth at me. It will try to wound me.

Here is what I know to be true: I am human, and humans heal one another and can turn sharp teeth into wagging tails.

love elizabeth s.

I was rambling on the issue of museums and human remains and how certain populations are more likely to have their bodies put on display to be gawked at and then went "well I guess the Pompeii casts were of Europeans. there are bones in there right?" and Googled it to make sure, at which point I confirmed that yes there are bones in there, but more interestingly DNA testing revealed that a cast of an adult holding a child everyone assumed was a mother and child were, in fact, a man and a kid entirely unrelated to him. Honestly that's more moving to me. Maybe they were connected in a way other than blood, but maybe a stranger saw a child when the world was ending and thought the one thing he could do was hold them.

Anyone know the artist? For clarity, the painter, not the writer.

We suffer from an incurable malady: Hope.

— Mahmoud Darwish

Faith

By sun.after.winter

The sides draw closer

Repulsion and longing,

Back and forth, back and forth

Tossing me out to sea

It's been so long,

Years it's been encroaching

Crawling, wave by wave, ever closer

To drown - or to fly

Do I turn back, or do I turn my back

Symbols that once meant so much -

Safety, love, hope, closeness

Now a symbol taunting me, to choose

He's god, he's love, he's hope, he's resilience

So why do I hold back?

Am I still his child?

Loveless, as I am.

Picking and choosing between his words, his laws,

Simply so I can belong?

I Sit beside the Fire and Think, Bilbo Baggins (The Fellowship of the Ring, J.R.R. Tolkien)

Not "humans are inherently good" or "humans are inherently evil" but a secret third thing (humans are inherently social animals which means that we're very good at cooperating and being compassionate towards those we perceive as being part of our community but we're also very good at being tribal and violent towards those we perceive as threats to our community and everyone defines their community differently)

glad to know people will still be experiencing this video for the first time this daylight savings