I write to you from the finish line of the fast lane.
Ramadan, a vast quickness.
In an empty belly, 3 days removed from routine hydration and nutrition, I apologize to my stomach for all that I have put it through. I learn to acknowledge my gallbladder and liver, feeling bubbles force their way from east- to west-torso.
Moreso, I spend time with the language of lymph, protruding postures and the horizontal axis in my rest chamber.
Every corporeal system rebels against this stark divestment from nourishment. On day 4 a fever suddenly arises an hour before sunset, then breaks into a burst of energy and equilibrium. Thank you.
I praise my body thoroughly in all the ways I’ve come to know how. My physical trainer, Dr. Rani, creates a gentle program for the month of April and plays zikr on the sound system during our sessions. We share our spiritual experiences and she introduces me to a somatic practitioner, Grace.
I write poems and read them for Grace as a map of intentions. She listens and I trust her hands as they knit my body and mind back together.
Grace invites me to a freeform dance class, and I discover these liquid limbs again. I wear an oversized linen tunic with elastic waistband linen trousers and rainbow sneakers. After some self-consciousness, my pirouette turns into a bird dance and I take off in flight around the room. I start walk-dancing…this thing I did at college parties with my friend where we glide on the floor in quick pace, allowing us to float through the air like streamers tickled by wind.
I get a surprise visit from sissy the next night and we trace all our old haunts for three days. I choose a promise ring that is blessed by a man who runs the Old Sacramento Trading Post. He gifts me the book I’m holding because I remind him of the woman whose diaries its based on.
I read the first few pages and my jaw drops over our Javanese lunch. We sit together at a cafe later and sissy forgets her body, but the chair will remind her.
Every time I see my name tatted on her wrist, I wonder if I am ever the reminder that hands her back into her body.
She flies back east and I stay west.
On April 9th, I hit the nine month mark on sabbatical. I liken it to a rebirth, and by chance, a woman I never met before this day gives birth to me and sings my name into my heartbeat. She adds an “rrrr” at the end because it sounds like jaguar in Spanish. “Hawarrrrrr!”
For an instant, I remember what it’s like for a soul to enter a body. What a terrifying gift. Thank you.
I mouth adoration, request forgiveness, and speak gratitude for this recalibration, lips criss-crossed by four languages/lineages competing to come through. I tell her, “te amo,” and in Pashto I tell her she is my daughter too, “thum de ma loor ye.”
I ride roller coasters the next day as a brand new baby.
By mid-April, I am part way through two classes with The Alternative Art School. In a course called “At Home in the Body” with artist Janine Antoni, we are guided to write Yes Manifestos in a quick exercise (of which there are many, each a reflection of a dedicated and studious mind) ~~
In another class, “Embodying Method” with curator Zoe Butt, we listen to her make space for the forest curriculum to root into our module on “art as use.” We read “Situated Knowledges”1 by Donna Haraway. I’m pulled out of my sabbatical sweetness to think about situating my self in the world again.
In my stark divestment from nourishing capitalism, a different kind of fast lane, I have had to trust my body as a vehicle to take me where I need. Through the fevers, energetic breakthroughs and sustained equilibriums, I have understood a little more about where I stand, how I stand and how much I can withstand.
And now, finally, emerging from the cocoon of a remixed reality, where I’ve used my eyes to listen and ears to see…
…an earth-wide network of connections, including the ability partially to translate knowledges among very different—and power-differentiated—communities. We need the power of modern critical theories of how meanings and bodies get made, not in order to deny meanings and bodies, but in order to build meanings and bodies that have a chance for life.
~Donna Haraway “Situated Knowledges”
a north star. thank you.
OFFICE ༼--༽ HOURS !!
For the month of May: I’ve opened my studio-office for catch ups, brainstorms, shallow/deep dives, advice for anyone interested in booking a session. Totally free brain for rent limited time special.
I’m also offering about 10 akashic readings this month for anyone seeking guidance.
Another note: In our house, if someone eats through the month of Ramadan, they send money to a charity or those most in need. Please consider a donation to Jamil Jan Kochai’s fundraiser to bring necessities to people living under dire conditions in Afghanistan.
I hope you’re well wherever you are <3
Full title, “Situated Knowledges: The Science Question in Feminism and the Privilege of Partial Perspective”
You’re amazing ❤️