Wider and stranger than you think

Comfort doesn’t need to be the human default, but it appears to be. We crawl back to it after tragedy because the stretch outside feels too hard.

When you act, no one else can occupy your exact space and time. The laws of physics don’t allow it. No one else can fill where your body is, making its exact movements.

That space is yours. That evidence is yours.

You’re still here. You can still contribute. Behind every mental projection of the world is the actual world—wider and stranger than you think.

Fill the space.

From our recent photo exhibition “Memories in Iquitos”

Threads of memory

What connects us to our grandparents and to soil—it's the same network.

Mostly underground.

Call it mycelium.

Memory lives there too, threaded through systems that refuse to break.

Easy to ignore. It exists quietly—purpose without performance, service without announcement.

My 9th grade history teacher told me it's not who you are, it's whose you are.

Interdependence is the most descriptive term I can find for this.

Biblioteca Amazónica

The Conditions

Inside us is a perfectly wrapped gift of healing.

It's ours. We deserve it. It would make our lives easier, our grief lighter, our hearts more likely to spill themselves in tempra paint.

So when does it come?

When the conditions collide.

Not when we will it. When the cascade can do its full cascading.

This isn't a cop-out. We can generate some of those conditions ourselves. But others? They require a combination of things beyond the magic spell we want to spin from our palms.

In the need for conditions, we stand on grace—for ourselves, our lives, each other, the future.

That's my blessing and my prayer.

The conditions of the farm