Why you and I are strong
A reminder from the wind
Friends,
Fierce, motherly wind.
I started writing this letter last week after Martinho, a storm that left metal billboards bent over like a sad kid gazing at their gelato on the pavement below. If winds can do that to metal beams, what can it do to humans? Winds can be so fierce.
Before the storm landed, I walked through the ancient city of Lagos and felt the earth pulsing. Seagulls, whitecaps, church bells. The wind carried me to a big mosaic of two black fish, so I thanked the wind and said, “Wow, this is cool.” And then they led me to a tunnel, where they introduced me to the father of the city, São Gonçalo (1360~1422). Two candles flickered at his altar. The wind carried me back to a warm home, brushing my hair the entire way. Winds can be so motherly.
Sunshine, storm, sunshine, storm. Ceasefire, fire, ceasefire, fire.
Knowing that our world bursts with wildflowers and bombs, how are you living? How are you contributing? How are you continuing? We have welcomed spring and experienced the second eclipse of this month on March 29. Speak to the wind and they will answer your questions. April asks for action.
Flourish.
Last month’s seed-planting / manifestation ritual led to a blossoming of opportunities, including two commissions for a full-page newspaper comic and an invitation to participate in a curious exhibition at a library in Maine. Because that is not enough for an abundant, art-loving universe, I finally pressed “submit” on my first ever grant application, I’m in the middle of making stickers to share at the march on the anniversary of the Carnation Revolution, and I’m falling in love with a ten-panel comic I am drawing with a friend.
Busy is not the right word for all of this.
Flourishing might be it.
As empires flail,
I remember when I would take bathroom breaks at my old corporate job and dream of beluga whales, feeling grounded in the truth that we share the same world. Or when I would play beer pong with aggro frat boys and daydream of poisoning them. This current society is built on money and domination because it was created by the rich and greedy. It is not of our making. We have been forced into their sadistic game, and if we refuse to play as their pawns or slaves, there are consequences. But you know this already.
It is when a librarian in snowy Maine contacts me out of the blue, a rainbow decides to show up in the sky, or when my editor says “Yep, I trust you. Love what you do.” I am reminded that all of the punishing rules of this current society are made up. From 401Ks, $70,000 college tuition that somehow doesn’t include the cost of housing and books, ChatGPT stealing from artists, dependence on gasoline, to microplastics in our food, we are forced to follow their rules, or else.
The trees do not care about being rich and greedy. They care about the sun, leaves, rain. About mushrooms, rot, decay. I do not care about being rich and greedy. I care about collaborating with nature, healing as collective earth beings, enjoying earth’s beauty. In order to actually create that reality though, I have to identify the rich and greedy within myself, work on rooting it out daily, sacrifice my comforts that are tied to the rich and greedy, give parts of myself to the world I want, and if it comes to it, fall to the earth for the humanity I love. And rarely will anyone suspect a fallen tree, the source of so much life.
If you need a boost this week, here’s a bitchy, gorgeous playlist that my sweetie and I love blasting.
You are stronger than you think.
Haruka
yes, yes, yes. Also: "April asks for action." Biggest love.