reebs'n'rye.

You know those heavyhearted parts of the world? Where you walk in and can do nothing, but with the strength remaining, embrace? I think it is those places that have taught me that life should never move too fast, that it should be walked together, and that lament is an expression of love.

“All truth is hard truth. We’re in the darkness now, and we got to accept the hard truth to bring on the light. You can hide the truth, but you can’t get rid of it. When truth come out in the light, we get the beauty of the world…Art [is] supposed to show how the world is: sometimes dark, sometimes light.”

-Thornton Dial, via r2.

“I feared I might be imposing on your private feelings by offering a glimpse of one of my own scars. But no one could live with such passionate imagination, and write as beautifully as you write, without bearing some scars also, and it was these that I wanted to tell you I recognize and – in my own way – bless. We all seem doomed to a freedom to choose between indifference and sadness. I can’t – or won’t – be indifferent to life, and yet when I turn my face toward it, how sorrowful it seems. Referring obliquely to the beautiful works of art that perished when the Romans destroyed ancient Carthage, Virgil wrote, sunt lacrimae rerum- “These are the tears of things.”“

-James Write’s letters to Lisa Marmon Silko

I don’t know where my place is, but sometimes I remember to love more slowly.

I’ve been writing a letter to request membership to the Fort Myers Meeting of Quakers. A good, contemplative practice. Consequentially, this weekend was sitting at coffee shops in salty gulf air, conversations with a fellow F/friend and intern, reviewing written materials and considering how to order my thoughts. /// It was also meeting to talk with a local immigration lawyer. Considering how Sanctuary looks. Knowing that Jose was deported on Friday. /// Now to prepare for the impending freeze, immediately after building an elaborate bamboo trellis for my freshly transplanted tomatoes.

“Following a true leading entails surrender, a willingness to yield self-centered control of one’s life so that one may be guided by a deeper wisdom.” (Steve Smith)

Few of the people milling around SW Florida, in the winter time, when the roads are bumper to bumper with idling traffic, are Floridians. And if they happen to be, they’re still often transplant Floridians. In my interactions, typical conversations go like this: (me) “Where you from?” (person) “Niagara Falls.” (me) “Oh really? That’s great, I just moved from Buffalo.” (person) “You must be happy to have left/You’re lucky to get out/General laughter and exclamation that Florida is way better.” (me) “That’s what people keep telling me, but I actually miss it.”

When I planned to move here for a twelve month internship, I compared the Wikipedia pages of Buffalo and Fort Myers. Buffalo, as a city with a reputation for population loss, currently has less residents than it did in 1900. On the other hand, Fort Myers has grown by nearly 30% since 2000. I finally connected the dots. The big roads, new construction, cities that look like strip malls. People. Are. Moving. To. Florida. (I suppose both to Florida and to the suburbs around Buffalo).

Florida is a beautiful state, rich in culture and heritage. Welcoming. It has provided me dear friends and more Vitamin D  than I’ve otherwise collectively absorbed in my entire 23 years of living. But to tell you the truth,when people tell me “You’re lucky to get out” it nearly drives me back up north. I want to turn around and hug Squaw Island, where it looks out over Lake Erie.

I share these thoughts not to make a point about my bias towards Upstate New York or my opinions on urban planning. Instead, to explain how these passing exchanges have woven into my recent reflections on what it means to participate in community, to build “home.” /// It’s easy to idealize moving. But there is something to be said about staying. /// I think that place-making is important. (…) I think it, I’m beginning to feel it, and I’m considering how embodying of those values looks.