hurting like a cat

What I don't have left is just anything. I don't

have anything left. Just anything. Just anything I...

this clover here. It doesn't belong to me. But I can touch

it. This breath, the taste of my too-dry mouth. I can taste that.

I can almost remember to breathe on time. The feeling of my

tongue right before I speak, my toes pressed against the floor.

That's only one thing I can touch. But it's one thing more

than no things. The slight rustle of my clothes, against

the cables that make the sound work. I don't know how people do

it. They keep having, they keep having something. Something to

offer, something to do, some hope, some place to go, some one

more step. I don't have one more step. Not one more step. Not

even one more step, not one more drop of water to turn the mill.

I don't have one more. One more. One more. I don't have any more.

I don't. I don't have any more. And people always look at me

like, well, you just gotta find one. And I'm like, no, actually.

No, actually, I don't. And that's the hard part. Because I

think people think that we have to. That there's some kind of

universal life force that tells us to persist. And I am here to

tell you that that is not the case. And that just telling

people to suck it up doesn't actually get you anywhere. And

that if somebody is going to the trouble of asking for your help,

you might want to consider what will happen if you don't?

Because yes, that is your responsibility, even if you

don't know what to do or say. Get in the mud with them and

collaborate. Start digging around together, find something.

Give them the experience of not being alone. The problem with

our world more than anything else, is infinite solitude. This

alone alone alone-ness where everybody is supposed to solve

their own damn problems. Is it white western colonialist? Of

course, it is. Probably other cultures, too, at some point did

that. But it didn't work out well for them either. Because we

don't know very much about those. Mostly we know about

history, and prehistory and ancient ancient oral history.

Thank the gods for the storytellers. Mostly we know

about people who did in fact, find a way to take care of each

other and of themselves, to problem solve together, to

collaborate, to share. We joke in the queer community about

passing the same 20 bucks around and around and around, and

sometimes it's 50. And sometimes it's five. But we do that,

because if you have been down to your last 20 bucks, you know

what it means when someone hands you a $20 bill. And so even when

you only have 40, you hand over a 20. And then you get in there,

in the mud, in the muck. You get in there in your hip waders with

your shovel. You bring your friends, you tie yourself to a

tree so you don't fall in and you start digging. We're trained

to isolate like cats when we're hurting, we're trained to go off

by ourselves and pretend that nothing's wrong until we can

emerge whole and beautiful and sparkly. And you know what? That

is bullshit. That whole system is bullshit. It's not working

and we got to stop. It's not really even a system. It's a

lack of a system. It's a response to the emptiness around

us. When you feel like there's nobody to help you out. You

don't reach. You just go find a nice cozy spot to die. And we

have lost so many good people that way and we are every day on

the brink of losing so many more. It's got to stop. It's got

to stop.

But what is the alternative when everything seems hopeless and

bigger than we are? The alternative, the alternative is

more creativity. Pour more creativity on the fire. More and

more and more, make the flames go to the sky. Reach around them

until your arms grow long enough to wrap themselves redwood-big

all the way to the edges of the circle. And beyond. Because

there are people standing in the shadows that you don't even know

are there. It's got to stop. We've got to change the way that

we approach stress and strain and isolation. That bullshit

line that goes around about you are the average of the five

people you spend the most time around. Lord, that may or may

not be true, but it doesn't matter. Because what's not true

is that averaging yourself up at others' expense is the right

thing to do. Is that setting yourself deliberately apart from

people who are struggling is the right thing to do. Is that

deliberately creating classes and cliques is the right thing

to do. Don't you dare cut people out of your life just because

they're having a hard time. That is not how community survival

works. Give them space if they need space. Give them support if

they need support. And if they're asking for help, get

creative with them, get their permission, get their consent,

get to know where they want your intervention and then bring all

of your tools to the table. You got a weed whacker, you bring

it. You got a roto-tiller, you bring it. They need help with

their garden. And once their garden is growing, it will feed

the whole neighborhood but you've got to get your ass in

gear. And sitting on the sidelines looking with disdain,

or shrugging and helplessness, is not going to help. Sure, put

on your own oxygen mask first, but then reach over and put

someone else's mask on them. Don't just sit back satisfied

like you did the oxygen mask thing while somebody next to you

gasps for air. How dare you? I know you think you're tired. I

know you think you're out of everything. So am I. So is

everyone right now. None of us has a whole spoon. None of us

has even one whole spoon. So we all need to be reaching

together. We cannot.... we cannot isolate for preservation.

Self-preservation by itself is meaningless. It is only

community preservation that will move us forward and community

preservation happens on every single level from the molecular

level on up. Community preservation is the only way to

go. And if you run an organization, run a business,

lead people, have a lot of followers on social media:

gather your people. And help them know how to do this. Help

them know how to take a little bit of what they have, even if

it's only 20 bucks. Even if it's only five, even if it's only 50

cents, take a little bit of what they have and drop it in the

pot. So that somebody else can get what they need. It's not

fiscally irresponsible to do that. It's community care to do

that. And that is how we change things. That is how we get out

of this habit of hiding like cats waiting to die. That is how

we get out of this habit of feeling that when we reach there

will be nobody there. That is how we get out of this habit of

having to wonder what would happen if our lives fell apart

tomorrow. If everything that co-supports us disappeared? What

would happen next? What would you do next? How would you act

next? What would, what would open a door, a window? A

moveable ceiling tile even if you go all Mission: Impossible

on it there has to be something out there that makes the Mission

Impossible actually possible. And that's what community is.

And that's what people provide. And that's why we have to do

this together. And if you're a business owner, double true, and

if you're a community leader, double true.

We got to do this together, which means you got to model

that. You gotta model that reaching out, you got a model

that I don't know what to do, but I'm showing up. You got a

model that. What do you need? Creative problem solving? Let's

creative problem-solve right here in the comments thread. So

maybe somebody else gets an idea. So maybe somebody else

knows that there are people who help. So we change not just the

material reality for that person, but the worldview of

everybody who's watching because if people are watching you, you

can change that. You can change the world. You can change what

people believe, but you've got to do it. You've got to

participate. You've got to engage. disengagement is the

most toxic thing we have. We've got to keep each other