As my birthday nearly coincides with the date that COVID-19 was declared a global pandemic last year, I’ve recently been faced with a loving question from my family and friends about how I wanted to celebrate. Get together with my pod and eat more yummy food, was the simple answer, but the “wash-rinse-repeat” nature of this pandemic-celebration felt dim on my joy radar. I finally realized that there were multiple questions here that I was grappling with. I offer these to you, in case you’ve struggled with this too.
The Fifth Dimension
I am an avid science-fiction reader. In fact - sci-fi, fantasy, magical realism, fairytales, spiritual supertexts, supernatural stories - you name it, I love it. Some of the books I’ve read and loved or been awed by are - Kindred, His Dark Materials, Wildseed, Mind of my Mind, The Shiva Trilogy, To the Left of Darkness, The Faraway Tree, Rivers Run Free… I know I’m blending a few genres here, but in my opinion genre distinction is just like western medicine - an artificial separation of a holistic body-system. I refuse to do it.
Creativity is LOVE (and love gives us permission to play)
I was adamant about not celebrating my birthday in a big way this year. I was feeling very reclusive and didn't want a ton of attention or the pressure of hosting a party. What I did want was some quality time with a few loved ones, and to bake a cake together. I was trying a new dietary regimen for the sake of my health, avoiding gluten, sugar, and dairy. It seemed exciting to try to bake a cake that met these needs, while enjoying the act of baking itself with some of my besties.
Amidst celebration and mourning, living the questions
This Juneteenth marked 14 weeks of living in the corona-nation. It's 15 weeks now and it feels like the extent of losses is becoming unspeakable.
Whether it's Black people killed by the police, or deaths from COVID-19, or the long separation of loved ones far away, or new separations brought on by covid migrations. This time is filled with so much. Health, disparity, sickness/dis-ease, death, grief, mourning, loss. The losses of ceremonies I won't attend, friends I won't see for months or years, babies I won't hold anytime soon. The ripping apart of a nation, sifting of those who are upholding systemic racism and those who are tearing it down and dancing on the ashes. I’m with the dancers, even if our feet are covered with ash.