Archive | February, 2017

Sacred Pop Culture

One of the tags I use here is ‘sacred pop culture’ because I believe the Divine shows itself in all forms, all ways, including pop culture. This is, in part, because I am a panentheist- I believe that The Something is in every part of creation, out to the edges of the Universe and beyond. I also believe this because pop culture is the carrier of symbols, and symbols are both timeless and unique to their period; through time they hold the thread of the Divine.

The most important message of Life, the sacred truths, are being written to suit each culture and each epoch. Because what so much of America consumes is pop culture, these messages and truths are bound to find their way out. Truth will use any doorway. (I have written a few posts on the topic: Bieber + the Sufis, P!nk as Crone, and death mantras from R.E.M.)

And this brings me to the Grammys and the almost otherworldly performance by Beyoncé.

Some days before the Grammys, Beyoncé announced her pregnancy (twins) via Instagram. And there was a lot of racist, sexist BS flying around about it, but amongst that ridiculousness, was a lovely explanation for the meaning of her photos: she was channelling one of the goddesses of the Yoruba religion- Oshun. Oshun is the goddess of sweet waters, fertility, and love. Beyoncé was embodying a symbol, embodying the Divine for herself. And that is sacred pop culture.

::: ::: :::

I learned about Yoruba in seminary. A Voodoo priest in NYC taught us about the creation myth, special stories and characters, important dates and rituals, and other important facts about Yoruba. (He also said his most frequent ritual customers were white, Christian couples trying to conceive. He had a 95% success rate. Don’t tell me magicians and witches aren’t real.)

One of the interesting pieces of the Yoruba religion is the belief that the Divine was broken into 1001 pieces. Those pieces were scattered to the winds and became gods and goddesses, called orishas, like Oshun. This story is similar to the story of Isis and Osiris in Egypt. Osiris was cut into many pieces and dumped into the Nile (and several other places). Isis spent her life finding the pieces of Osiris and re-joining them. The theme of breaking divine things and re-joining broken pieces is an important aspect of spiritual history, especially Black spiritual history.

And here is Beyoncé dressing herself, expressing herself, as a goddess, and in particular, a black goddess. Her headdress was aligned with depictions of Oshun, but also whispered of the Catholic iconography of the Black Madonna. And she was attended by many other women- perhaps symbolizing other orishas or goddesses. In one part of the performance, they swayed in unison, connected to Beyoncé, not unlike the idea of drops of water reconnecting to form an ocean. I hope, if anything, those attendants symbolized the return of the orishas to work as one, no longer cut and scattered. What a symbol, what an ignited call to action, what a miracle that would be.

Beyoncé used the symbols of black culture, as a black woman and artist, to share a vision with black people. She wears the symbols, but she also became the symbol for this culture, this epoch, this time. And it was holy.

[If you own rights to this image, please let me know.]


Carl Jung defined some of the long-standing cultural symbols, calling them ‘archetypes.’ These were stories, patterns, energies that showed themselves in cultures through time. Think of the ‘Mother’ archetype, the the ‘Innocent’ archetype, or the ‘Hero’ archetype. Jung believed these symbols came from a kind of psycho-spiritual database, called the ‘collective unconscious.’ The collective unconscious holds symbols over time and layers them with meaning. The orisha can be seen as a set of archetypes in the black culture.

Joseph Campbell, an American anthropologist and mythologist, studied myths across time, and developed the theory of The Hero’s Journey. The Hero’s Journey is a story of facing and overcoming difficulty that is repeated across time and cultures, and often includes archetypes.

Both Jung and Campbell recognized that archetypes are called forth from the collective unconscious when they were needed for the journey of becoming something new. Whether it is becoming a new person, a new role, or a new culture- when the archetypes and symbols are needed, they arrive.

And I see this in many places. Writers I admire are channeling the truths of the past. Marybeth Bonfiglio reads to me as the new Lao Tzu. Perhaps not as concise, but still as fruitful, still as packed and powerful, still as clear about the true connection of humanity to nature, about the truth of humanity as nature. Marybeth Bonfiglio is exactly what happens when the Tao Te Ching explodes into it’s 1001 beautiful pieces.

Christian Fabien, when he writes his poetic prose on Facebook, is Sage Vyasa telling Arjuna what the field of the fight looks like and what to fight when war is the system you live in. I see pieces of a modern Bhagavad Gita– questioning moral action and inaction, investigating dualism and non-dualism, combining long-held symbols in new ways that provide insight, and showing the way forward to those who will listen (I don’t think he’s much into gurus, though).

John Pavlovitz, writing new letters to Ephesia, Galatia, Collosus, and Phillipia- to all the cities in his internet reach. His Christianity actually returns to the better angel of Jesus’ nature. In the way archetypes do, he strips away layers that have not served humanity and returns to the life-giving essence of the teachings. In fact, he is applying the truth that stands across time in Christianity- not the modern interpretation that upholds oppressions. (Matthew Fox creates in a similar vein for Catholicism, but with a Campbell-esque re-invention of the catholic.)

Of course, I admire the raw writing and clear thinking of these people. But my admiration is for more than their skill in thought and word- they are the doorways through which truth finds its expression. The truths that matter find their way forward- and that is the purpose of sacred pop culture. (These writers are, in fact, my Bible.)

::: ::: ::: :::

White House counselor and Nazi, Steve Bannon, believes we are in something called The Fourth Turning- a time in history that will bring great destruction, great clarification, and great re-building of entire cultures. I agree that we are in a special time in history, perhaps even a ‘turning’ (I hope!), but it is not the turning he imagines or hopes for.

The turning we are in is one of hope. Society always moves forward- even if through violence (you remember, the last time we fought the Nazis, we went to war). We are not turning into some throwback of white supremacy and willful ignorance, we are turning forward– into a wider, more accepting, more equal way. Yes, things will be destroyed (that is the way of Kali), but what is destroyed will be what is no longer useful.

How do I know this? Because of the archetypes who are showing up to this fight. Bannon and Trump are imposters of leadership, stupid, bloated symbols of a toxicity that is fighting to live, despite its nearness to death. What do we see rising to fight it? Beautiful black goddesses, uniting the divine energies- pulling the orishas back together, coming out of hiding as the Black Madonna and shining the truth. Every act of resistance in art (even Katy Perry). The writers of modern truth I have mentioned here. The visual artists who discomfort the comfortable.

In pure numbers, there are more of us than there are of them. (Excuse my dualism.) The majority is choosing to create this new way; we are the culture makers.With every choice, we create the new and the good*. We are the visionaries and we are cutting away what no longer works, and paving a path that embraces more, more, more.

Oshun is rising full and ready- and she is reaching millions by cable TV.
The single water drops are pulling together like magnets, ready to crash.
The pieces of the divine are connecting into power.
The Earth has her protectors and those who speak for her that you might finally listen.
Papyrus and slow horses no longer limit the reach of prophets; websites provide instant connection.

We are awake and fighting. And the gods are with us, ready in their modern armor.

*I love it when I learn more and have to add stuff. In this article, Hannah Arendt makes clear that creating the ‘better’ is worse than creating the ‘good.’ ‘New’ must be careful to not fall into the land of ‘better’ and instead strive towards ‘good.’ Yes.




Moon Shadow :: Full Moon in Leo :: Lunar Eclipse

Well, whaddya know? I didn’t make it for the full moon on Friday/Saturday. I was busy, friends. Living and loving (more about that later).

This is just a quick review of what happened cosmically last Friday and Saturday. It was some good shit. Big stuff. Check back and see how your weekend went.

::: ::: ::: :::

From The Sky Priestess

Typically, the Leo-Aquarius opposition teaches us about our personal emotions with people or projects that spark our passion, creativity, enthusiasm and joy – and – how this needs to be balanced with the larger needs of the collective and the evolutionary / awakening process that we are all a part of. This holds true.

However, this is not an ordinary Eclipse. It is woven as part of a Grand Sextile / Star of David alignment. And that just … accelerates and intensifies the sheer level of energy and activations that are possible. It creates a powerful engine for manifestation, but one with highly unpredictable outcomes…

The current eclipse brings forth energies that were at play on 31st January 1999, some 18 years ago as its predecessor in the Saros Lunar Eclipse Series. Look back to what was going on then in your life to see what is being carried forwards now…

[What got intensified for you last weekend? What needs to be balanced between your relational life and your community and cultural actions?]


From Rhea Wolf

To align with our best vision and intention, we need the energy of Friday’s Full Moon, which is also a Lunar Eclipse. Full Moon always happen in the sign opposite the Sun’s current position. Which means we need a dose of Leo. Which means, we need a dose of joy.

Without Leo’s influence, we get vision without joy, ideals without laughter, futures without unruly children and artists. Without Aquarius’ influence, we get big messes without purpose, and drama without focus. We need both Leo and Aquarius. But I’m betting that right now, we could use more of the fun, playful, imaginative power of childlike Leo…

For this Full Moon, please remember the things you loved to do as a child, the dreams you had, the wishes you made. Rekindling the fires of authentic and joyful childhood experiences may offer you a much-needed ingredient in your MAGIC.

[What gave you joy, love, or contentment this past weekend? What came back to you last weekend that you loved as a child?]


From Chani Nicholas

Leo knows how to use the vehicle of the persona to connect with the world. With heart.

May we all learn about the power of our creativity. May we remember to make room for playfulness. May we use our personalities to pursue a just and safe world for all of creation.

May this eclipse, and this week’s very fiery, bold and inventive astrology help us awaken to the personal influence we all have on our collective experience.


Lunar Eclipse Goodies

“For some, the eclipse will bring together new friends, co-creative collaborators, lovers, networks, children, community, astral connections and so on. And for others, such connections may be ´eclipsed´ out. That part is the wild card element. Something is bound to be lit up during this Eclipse, and its fate depends on the events that have led up to this moment in time. And the choices you make with the energy that is unleashed.” -Bairavee Balasubramanian


“This lunar eclipse in Leo reminds us that the now is also eternity and history combined: an alchemical blend of past, present and future, distilled into a micro-second of existence in which we have the power to act, choose and become.

“Choices made when the Sun is eclipsed in Pisces on 26th February will shape our future selves.

“We can prepare to choose well then by embracing insights arising now, as the flames of ego are doused by the irrepressible waters of life divine.” -Mystic Mama


“This eclipse is ruled by the SUN, our source of light and life. The Sun is associated with GOLD and Leo governs the HEART chakra, the essence of love. The story of King MIDAS is relevant. A greedy king who loves gold more than anything is given a wish to teach him a lesson. He wishes that everything he touches turns to gold. He is happy with this wish at first, but when he touches his daughter and she turns into a golden statue, the king realizes that love not gold is the most precious of all things. After much prayer, the curse/wish is resolved, and all the gold is returned to life by being bathed in a river. This Leo eclipse reminds us to decide what is really precious to us, appreciate it, love it and cherish it. We must have courage to dare to trust our hearts.”
-The Cosmic*Intelligence*Agency

::: ::: ::: :::

So, how was your weekend compared to all this? What fits? What doesn’t?

I hope you learned something, fellow travelers. That’s what we’re here for.

More later!
Big love from the trail-
Joanna :: xoxo




Twenty Years of Sex With The Same Person

[and if that thought terrifies you as it relates to the person you’re with, you need to find a new person.]

Today is about half way between the night my husband and I got engaged and the night we had our first date. This year will be our 20th year married and our 21st year together. We’re better than we’ve ever been and I find myself in gratitude for him every day lately. We ain’t perfect, but we’re really, really good. And this is to say: so is the sex.

And the sex is good because the respect is good. And the sex is deep because the trust is deep. And the sex is delicious because the communication is delicious. Twenty years and we are getting better and better at this.

This is my gift to him, between these days marking the highlights of our love.

Twenty Years of Sex With The Same Person

We met in our 20s, but sometimes
we double back to younger times-
I wore my high school sweatshirt
you had to pinch my nipples hard
through the cotton
we fucked like 18 year-olds
because we could
to fulfill the fantasy of us-
wishing we’d had
back then.


Other nights, we remember 35,
Bone-deep fatigue
and yet so desperate for skin + connection
like when the babies were small.
Our love-making habitual
our bodies so well known to one another
producing the needed orgasm
and the dreamless sleep of a thousand years


This very moment we are mid-lifers
new worlds happen because
we communicate, fantasize, and explore
my orgasm an icicle blue mandala
the portocorano tinkling between my breasts
something new, even at this age
I come best with my mouth full.


I imagine what comes next-
30, 40 years together
The books and my crones tell me
Other hills and valleys to traverse
with these bodies
this love
We will find a place on the hill
in the sun
and tease each other
the warmth of the hours heating us
and the waves of love and lust
crashing again
like they always have.
Older, wiser, no less sexy.


Growing and wild in this vine of love.
All our years together.
All our years to come.


::: ::: ::: :::

Perhaps because of this mid-point in my personal love history, perhaps because Valentine’s Day is nearing, I keep thinking of engagements. V-day is one of the top days for engagements. I wonder if some men who propose that day are secretly thinking, “If I do it on Valentine’s Day I’m gonna get sex and a blow job every year because I can remember what day we got engaged. Har har har…” (Yes, I am going to diss a dude for thinking that.) Women may think it’s romantic until you realize that’s probably why he picked the day.

If you’re thinking of getting engaged on V-day- pick any other day. Literally any other day. Pick the day before, tell her you couldn’t wait. Pick the day after, tell her you were just so full of love you couldn’t contain it one day. Be creative. Connect it to something special between the two of you. (Plus, it’s my birthday, you want that hanging over the day? ha ha ha) Because, when you’re in love with someone, really in love, you want to celebrate them and lift them up on special days. You don’t look for excuses to not celebrate them or double up on your ‘show them you love them’ duty.

Maybe that’s why this all comes to mind now. There have been difficulties in my marriage, big ones. But our love has never been a chore. We have been dedicated to its growth, but never bored with its duties. I hope you find a love that grows deep, that fucks well, that lets you become your full self. Because that is what love does.


incomplete thoughts and symbols

There are two things that have been rolling around in my head for a couple of days now. And I’m going to share them here in the hopes that they might spark something in your head – and you could tell me about what it sparks for you.

They are not perfect or finished thoughts. They are also metaphors and symbols, which means they can be taken any number of ways; rolled like a kaleidoscope to see different perspectives. In any case, I put them here so that we might chew on them, as fellow travelers, around the campfire.

I. Hope

I’ve been thinking about the light and dark of hope lately. How there are some kinds of hope that diminish us spiritually, and other kinds that nourish us spiritually.

As an example of the hope that diminishes, I think of when we hope for a person to change. Only very rarely does a person change because we hope they will. Most people change because the pain of staying the same is too great.

And still, we wish for others to change. We may even change ourselves, in hopes that they will change, too. But that’s now how it works- when we change, the only thing that happens is their reaction to us changes. The person doesn’t change, just their reaction to us. And so we never get the person to change and our hope begins to hurt us.

Is this from expectation? We see their potential or we love them or we want to grow with them and we make it our hope, our expectation? I don’t know. Certainly if our expectations are too high or not stated and agreed upon it becomes a mess. And that mess often leads us to hope more, to find a way out, to change. But it also seems to be the kind of hope that hurts.

On the flip side is a kind of  hope that nourishes us. And, again, I don’t have the best of examples, but I will try. The hope that is nourishing me lately is the hope of shared vision. When I have a shared, agreed upon vision- whether that’s in my behavior, the behavior of others, goals, or culture change- the hope that comes from that feels nourishing.

The hope that is nourishing me lately is one of shared vision of the future and taking action towards it. In other places I have talked about the Buddhist principle of ‘letting go of outcomes’ but I’m not sure that’s a helpful tool in this case (but maybe it is! See? I got questions- let’s talk!). I think the hope that is nourishing feeds itself on the goodness of action and forward movement, even if that action is unclear or changes direction.

Maybe there is no defining these types of hope. I don’t know. Maybe we simply need to pay attention to the outcome of our hope. Does it nourish us spiritually, or does it diminish our joy and spiritual energy? I know that I have felt both of them and that the diminishing kind can nearly kill you. And the nourishing kind of hope can keep you alive in the darkest of places.

Thoughts? Leave me a comment.


II. Who Is In The Crowd At The Crucifixion?

This…this is a very unfinished thought, so you will have to excuse its messiness.

We all know I am no fan of Jesus. But I want to talk about him, and his crucifixion in relationship to the Muslim Ban of 27 Jan 2017.

There is a parallel and a symbol that is making me think and wonder.

This is the face of Jesus, as best as scientists can come up with (and if you can believe in ‘CSI:Anything’ you can believe in the science of this).


From “The Real Face of Jesus” in Popular Mechanics, 2002


This is the man many white, Christian, conservatives pray to and believe died for their sins. They put this man on a cross and let him drown to death on it. And that death washed clean the soul of every Christian thereafter (if you believe that).

Now, in fact, these people probably prefer to pray to ABBA Jesus because white people prefer praying to people who look like them. But, I digress…

This brown man, Middle Eastern man, is who Christian’s believe came to Earth to take away their sins. Who did, in fact, die for their sins. And by his death, they were made anew (in this belief system). Christian’s believe their whole lives are spiritually indebted to this man. They pray to him, sing songs to him, make monetary offerings to him (burn churches for him, kill Black people for him…sorry…off topic. not really).

And it struck me, in a strange way that I am not sure I still completely understand, that the Muslim ban was the exact same thing as the crucifixion. Punishing a brown man, brown people, Middle Eastern people, with our American sins.

We started the wars that created many of the terrorists people believe hide amongst Muslims. Bush I, Clinton, Bush II, Obama (who continued it), and Trump (who, as of this writing, also continues war in Iraq and Afghanistan). We are the ones who created ISIS, which we are so sure some Muslim who wants to enter our country is a part of. We created terrorists when we first created the Gulf War (Operation Desert Shield) in 1990. Babies born in 1990 are 27 years old now. That’s a long time to live with war in your country or region (take a moment and imagine what that would be like in your neighborhood). If anyone is responsible for ISIS and terrorist groups and whatever else we blame on Muslims, it is the United States.

And yet, again, it appears that we wish for brown, Muslim, Middle Eastern people to pay for the sins we create. And it makes me wonder about Jesus. I’m not so sure Christians are Christians anymore- perhaps they are the rabble at the feet of Jesus, chanting for his death, hoping to be washed clean. And here I mix my symbols and ideas, because the Jews at his feet did not believe in Jesus’ divinity. Nevertheless, I think there is something here to look at.

Some of you will say, “But Jesus was a Jew! Was the Son of God!” And I can only answer, “Does it matter what brown people are? Does it matter if they are Jewish or Christian or Muslim or Anything or Nothing? Isn’t putting up with America occupying your country a miracle? Isn’t it a miracle to be a human? Isn’t that enough?”

I am still wondering, who do Christians think they are worshipping? And do they see that they are scape-goating Middle Eastern men for their sins, again?

Actually, I think this thought might be complete enough.

::: ::: ::: :::

And if you’re wondering why I’m talking about politics and Muslims on a blog about sexuality and spirituality, let me tell you, baby. Because the body is where Heaven and Earth meet. The Taoists knew it, the Tantrics knew it, and maybe the yogis knew it. (But the rest of the religions have a long way to go.) Relationship and politics are where bodies come in contact with one another. So, politics becomes fair game in spirituality (it always has been). And I will fight for bodies to live free and full lives- all of them.



they know the song :: i will follow them

It is a simplistic metaphor (and therefore will have imperfections), but I sometimes think of the history of the world as a song.

Each continent has its own song, full of the instruments and voices of each country, each state, each culture, and tribe. There are different notes, sounds, layers. The choices that are made, the direction of nations, the daily activities of a city, they are the music.

And the Earth hurtles through space, combining and carrying all these songs, all these notes, and voices, and instruments, and rhythms into its own low hum.

This song of world history has had periods of opening- adding more voices and instruments, and it has had periods of closing down- reducing, silencing, and ignoring certain voices and instruments. This is not the difference between crescendo and decrescendo, it is the place in the music where there is suddenly music and then the tiny, black box stuck to the bottom of G line that means silence.

There have been, of course, cacophonous sounds as well. The horrible, ear-splitting mismatch of sounds that makes you clutch your ears, weep, and scratch at your own skin.

Every war. Every one of them.
The destruction of the Earth itself.

We are taught about Korea, Cambodia, and The Holocaust.
As a Gen-X-er, I watched Somalia and Rwanda and Darfur on TV.
(And so many others I cannot even name because I didn’t have to look or listen.)

We listen to the disgusting song each time. Some of us listen and watch and don’t do a thing. But we listen to it, nonetheless. And we say, “that is horrible.” And we vow that it won’t happen again.

In America, since the beginning of our country, white people have forced People of Color* to be a shield against the cacophony. We have pressed Black and Brown and Yellow bodies up against the horrible notes, like insulation. We have demanded they dance to the music for our pleasure- even if they die in the process (which they most often do). White people have closed their eyes and shoved Black bodies into the abyss to keep the music pleasant for our ears.


a black ballerina in mid-jump wit her arms high in the air


And now, in the midst of upheaval and the first churning sounds of our own cacophony in America, I am listening to People of Color, most especially Women of Color. Because they know this song. They know the first strains of the ‘not-quite-right’ keys being played in the distance. They know it in their bones, their DNA carries the markers that warn them early, warn their bodies, because they have heard this song for hundreds of years. They have been forced to dance, to keep their own children safe in secret ways, to shield white people from the music- they know it intimately.

So I choose to listen to them. When white people say, “Don’t worry, it won’t get that bad,” or “Give it a chance,” I say: I do not believe you. Because, at best (like me, I am guilty of this, too) white people have only heard this song on TV or read about it in a newspaper. We don’t know a goddamn thing about this cacophony. And we shouldn’t pretend that we do.

The People of Color, the Women of Color, the Transgender of Color, the disabled, the poor- they know what is here, what is coming. And they deserve our respect, our ear, our following. They are the only people who know how to get us out of this mess. Why? Because they live with and have lived through this song over and over and over. Each generation of Women of Color danced this song and lived. The women I know, their mothers, their mothers before them, their mothers before them, on and on- they lived through the painful, horrible notes of the dans macabre set to play by racism, sexism, hatred, and fear.

What do I do as a white person? Listen to them. Follow what they say. Use my whiteness to rip the music to shreds. To stick the bow of the violin down the player’s throat. To burn the piano. To crush whatever I can so that the cacophony cannot be played. To crush my own white ego, even. To feel hurt and stupid and learn something new. To listen with my mouth shut. And to protect them with my body.

To protect and support those who know what we are facing and how to make it through. Because that is what Women of Color and People of Color are talking about, ‘making it through.’ They are not talking about building something beautiful or playing a new song of equality, right now they are talking about ‘making it through.’ Do you hear the difference between those two things? Listen to it.

I am listening not only because I want to live, in my selfish white way, but because I want to be a part of the life of this song– the part that destroys the cacophony so that we can open the music again, bring in more beauty, more voices, more rhythms, harmonies and melodies. I will help everyone, everyone I can to ‘make it through’ so that we can all dance again. Dance together, dance in the notes of equality and justice and love.

But first we must make it through. We make it through together. We listen for the notes of hope and we work with whatever gifts and tools we have to make it through together.



::: ::: ::: :::

[*In this essay, Jews are counted as ‘People of Color’ because they were treated as ‘black’ during the Holocaust.]

I’m sure I’ve said ridiculous, racist, white things in here. I welcome feedback so I can learn. Because the dismantling of my whiteness and privilege is the building of equality.

::: ::: ::: :::

04 Feb 2017

And then, I was politely schooled (whether intended or not, it hit me square in the heart) by someone whose writing and ideas I admire with this tumblr post. Which says: “Your belief that all humans should be treated with equal respect shouldn’t be conditional based on whether or not individual people are nice to you.”

And I felt like an asshole, because, of course, that is how this post could be seen. That People of Color should be supported into full human rights and social justice because they have been nice to White people. It was a moment of pain in my head and heart when I realized it could be taken this way- and that it was another piece of my racism that made me blind to it.

I felt the pain of wrong-doing and the pain of cognitive dissonance (where my beliefs about myself and the truth about my actions come into conflict in this post). Avoiding cognitive dissonance (or wrong-doing) do not help. I take responsibility for my lack of clarity and my racist action and perspective.

Most of what I write here is me trying to use words to describe the ‘hard to pin down’ thing that happens when your head+heart speak and join together. Sometimes those feelings and insights pass too quickly for me to notice and then properly pin down with words. (Also, being misunderstood has been the story of my life as an INFJ.)

Words are important, though, especially as machines that bring our thoughts and feelings forth to create reality (they are flawed machines in most cases).

So, let me be clear with my words: People of color have been thrown before the cacophonies of the world because they were seen as less valuable than White people. This is not okay- not then, not now, not ever. This was a piece of my head:heart that did not get properly introduced into the (inadequate) metaphor. I am not here to help People of color because they have been nice to White people, I am here to create equality because it is the right thing to do- the right way for the music to be played, the full song, the true song.

And when I used the word ‘together’ it embodied- although I did not state it- the idea of equality and full rights for all humans that I was trying to get at in this post. For me, ‘together’ meant having everyone at the party of the world history song with equal standing. The singers, dancers, musicians, all there, all equal with full voices and support and access and resources. The moment when someone grabs your hand at a party and pulls you on to the dance floor- and everyone is having a proper, joyful time (you know that moment?) that is ‘together’ for me. And that is the song and the movement I am helping to build. (Even in my messy attempts such as this.)

And it is also why I am a member of Black Lives Matter and why I pay reparations. Because it is the right thing to do in this cause, this song, this dance. (Which I thought maybe was an ‘overachieving white lady’ thing to say, but now I realize we probably need a few more overachieving white ladies in the fight for racial equality and justice.) Also: put your money where your values are.