we are not alone

They say I can't tell you what to do. That if I

want you to change, I have to somehow work my way around the

edges of your mind, weaving into it the seeds of possibility that

then have to sprout and grow on their own. They say that I have

to let you come to your own conclusions, that there is no

way that my vision of what would be good and right and strong and

true and powerful and beautiful, is something that I can just

give you, that somehow your brain will not be open to

possibilities, unless it finds them scrabbling in the dirt on

its knees. They say that. They say that, but the thing that has

most often given me inspiration is a window into somebody else's

life, into somebody else's brain, into somebody else's

transformation of frustration into possibility. And so here I

am sitting in front of a microphone. Ari over at

Saltwater Stars wrote this beautiful piece, and sent it out

today; they talked about the way they've created success by

moving from desire over and over again, and now, at the ripe old

age of 28, and with their Saturn Return coming tomorrow, it's

time for them to move from what that has created, what that

moving from desire has created, which is for them freedom, which

is for them, not breaking their back in service of a system that

they actively do not wish to engage. And so I say to you,

take this as your text, share your stories, do not be ashamed

to share your stories. I don't know where we got the idea that

sharing a story was rude. Somewhere along the way, someone

decided that if they had gotten up the courage to share their

story, that that meant that you should not share yours, that I

should not share mine, that there had to be only one story

in the room at a time because we couldn't form a collage, we

couldn't overlap, we couldn't intersect in any kind of way

that would be safe and strong and protective. That their story

had to stand alone. That we had to stand alone and you know

what? Trees that stand alone fall over. Redwoods are forests

together. Nothing, absolutely nothing in this world is alone.

And humans need humans. Even if we don't want to, even if we are

frustrated and disgusted and up against, a wall humans need

humans need humans all the time. We need each other. We need each

other because we are not any of us perfect or complete. We are

like the trees, we are a forest together. We also need the

ground under our feet, the sky over our heads. The small and

the large. The animals and the insects. The birds that fly,

that remind us, that harken back to the times of dinosaurs and

giant ferns. And before and before and before some of us,

and our iPhones, closer to Tyrannosaurus Rex than

Tyrannosaurus Rex was to other dinosaurs. That's how long they

were here. That's how long they were here. This planet goes on

and on and on and each layer overlaps the next layer.

Somehow. Somehow. Each piece overlaps the next piece. Each

story overlaps the last story and the next story, but also all

the stories that are here at the same time. We are here at the

same time. We are not alone. We are not alone. I have said since

the beginning, that poetry is my first language. And that every

other attempt to communicate is a forcing of the poem into a

structure that someone else might comprehend.

But I am tired of seeking other people's approval. I am tired of

needing other people's approval. That was my first thought this

I moved from desire, I moved from

desire. We all have a desire to be known by someone in some way.

Even if it is only by the Earth itself. We all have a desire to

have a place, even if it is only enough space to breathe and eat

and sleep. But we all have a desire. We all have a desire and

that desire is connected to another desire or another being

or another, another something, a bigger something, a smaller

something, a sideways something, we are connected; we are not

alone. Which is not to say that we are not individual. It is not

absurd to have the "I." But we are not alone. Our stories

overlap. And the worlds we are creating are not solely our own.

Our worlds overlap. Intersect. We Venn-diagram our ways into

community, supporting and co-supporting and decomposing

and breaking down together. Constantly together.

We are not alone. And your story is as important as mine. Each

story is as important as each other story. And when we bring

our stories together and we tell them and we share our narratives

and we share ourselves, we... we exist. For the first time

perhaps, we exist, when we are together. Which is all the time,