I can almost remember how Brighton smells. And how it feels to wake up at Stillwell on the F train, fall back asleep and wake up at Jamaica Ave at like 4 am.
grammaticerror
Omg right? Summer means sandals and bare toes and that means summer is king. I walked around yesterday feeling sun on my skin and it felt like I was recharging spirit energy. And my regular walking sandals are so light now it's like being barefoot. Ahh, heaven.
I would argue it's the only way. Can't outrun the fork.
You're aware of all the changes you need to make, or at least you have a strong intuition. All of my lasting adaptations have been built on tiny increments gained over time, and only from a place of love. Be kind to yourself. Also, if you're not already looking at it, strongly consider your sleep hygiene. Good, consistent sleep is the base of the pyramid. No lasting change, especially when it comes to one's physical condition, can be sustained if your sleep is shit.
In my understanding "stay Black" means "remain authentic," not "retain your melanin," so the statement holds.
Ohh this is art. Well done.
Realized? Very young. Had the language to articulate my experience? Still working on it. From the outside looking in a lot of this must seem like an intentional choice to differ. It's how my mom approached it, like I was just intentionally being difficult. It's how people around me approached it, like I was just intentionally refusing to fit in. My only exposure to autism was in the form of a middle school classmate, and we were not similar, so I never expected that my condition was closer to his than to the allistic folks around me. Some weeks ago I filled out a questionnaire, the RAADS-R. Got a score above the autistic threshold, and things sort of just...became apparent. After ten minutes of reading about the actual autistic experience I was relieved and heartbroken to discover that what I was living through all along really did have a name, and was not in fact just me choosing to intentionally lead a more difficult life. So I was 33 when I learned that I am autistic.
Buckshot is intended to hunt deer. Turkey shot consists of much smaller pellets, which can still do significant damage to a human, but the effective range is lesser due to the way the shot spreads out. Turkeys also see colors differently from deer, so while you can wear blaze orange and not spook the deer, you will absolutely be spotted by a turkey.
Not OP, but yeah, basically. Lots of incidents of hunters getting shot while turkey hunting.
I wonder how much of this has to do with the fact that most of us don't chose the name we have? I've met people whom simply do not "look like" their name. It feels strange to refer to them by something that feels....other. I imagine this is why some cultures allow people to move through names as their lives go on. If we were given the space to emerge as a name, one embodied and truly ours, I think this phenomenon would be lessened.
I think this discussion would benefit from a clear definition of what a "good person" is. No one achieves power on their own, and what's good for the individual is not always good for the group. The inverse is also true. I have lead small teams where I actively fostered collaboration, enabled autonomy and encouraged contribution from all levels. This placed me into a position of power, and I don't think anyone would describe what I did as the actions of a "bad person." But achieving relative power in a small group of people working towards a similar goal is not the same as achieving power in a political system where crabs in a bucket mentality is prominent and everything is seen as zero sum.
As a child refugee who has moved around a bunch, I completely agree. I was never inducted into community, never shown how to establish this vital component of a pleasurable life. And some part of me understands that community doesn't just appear, you have to work at it to find the people you want to be around, but how does that happen? Not in the logistical sense, that I understand how to approach, but in the relational sense. How does one begin to belong having never felt belonging in the first place?