I'm not sure what the influx of "let people enjoy things" posts this afternoon is in response to, perhaps because my dash is incredibly well curated so I only hear about Discourse™ second or third hand, so maybe im missing some important context here.

But there are legitimate complaints to be made about this season re: racism and trauma triggers and I will go to the fucking mat for people's right to feel safe enough to talk about those things. And a lot of that can be centralized around the discussion of one character in particular, so make sure you're keeping that in mind if people's "negativity" is becoming a problem for you.

Also, the block button exists. Other parts of the internet exist. A whole world exists away from all of this. So idk, maybe take responsibility for your own experience on here because it's significantly more likely that at least for the people whose concerns I've already mentioned, it's hard for them to feel safe to speak up about the things that are troubling them this season.

Fleeting Light/Poetic Air

As humans, we relentlessly examine and ponder the idea of “home”, there are few words more calming or evocative of peace, it like a neroli perfumed shift of air on an unforgivingly roiling day, for amidst the cacophony, collisions and exertions for resources, experiences and value, there is this meaningful space that is free from pressures and manifest expectations. It is a sphere of tantalizing privacy, a sanctuary where one may dream, create, theorize, love, awaken, grow and imagine. The home is an universal cultural emblem, for a few jolly souls, a collection of well-appointed rooms, or even a palm thatched shack, to entertain others, to engage in discourse or gossip, to host a poetry reading, view a titillating film, perhaps a place to gather garden dew pink peonies, serve lilac Bellini’s and an orange perfumed pistachio cake to celebrate a new baby or promotion. For others, a home may be teetering precariously with books, antique swords, wild African masks, abundant houseplants, a piano, hammock and a writing desk, seldom visited except by over indulgent bee’s and rose breasted hummingbirds. There is also a gentle balance of those who craft a sphere between the private and public, maybe having a party now and then, but mostly anticipating fleeing the confines of the office, to drop the laptop bag at the landing, change into the softest lounge wear, light a candle, brew a cup of tea and drift away.

 As much as we know, discover or develop the uses and reasons for a home, from a nest to raise young persimmon pink parrots, or a coven to hoard incantations, almonds and raspberry jam, I believe that a home is more a concept for many individuals, rather than a fixed a set of coordinates that are romanticized in old holiday movies. While many are blessed with growing up in a stationary abode, for example, a casual manse passed through generations, with an attic offering plentiful scope for discovery, maybe happening upon a viridian, peach and dusky gray Persian carpet gifted by the Shah of Iran, or ink stained drafts of the declaration of independence, a crumbling ledger of a great-grandfathers legal fees books, listing “5 chickens and a brass pot” for services, or the seventh generation German Shepard puppy from the original, “Rani”,  it might just as well be a home one carries with them from island to hill, from pole to archipelago, from continental drifts and rising tides.

 As a nomad, I am of the latter sort, finding this aquamarine world itself to be my home, creating a community wherever I go, often based on shared human experiences, rather than of the indescribable kinship bonds that are well recognized and revered in small towns. After all, I have more in common with people than they might realize, for every place has a variety of characters, personalities, eccentricities and talents, given time, everyone finds their purpose in a tribe. As a person bound to the earth, even if it entails different grassy patches, shell scattered beach paths, desert oasis, or gold dream laced city pavements, at various points, I find comfort in the mysterious language of nature and botany, because a seed, also, travels distances, to undiscovered terrain and attempts to establish themselves with the grace of fleeting light and poetic air.

 There are also many benefits of a being a gypsy, for one, we have an opportunity to enhance and improve any location with our presence, we might bestow the incomparable gift of our time to the local institutions, such as the library fund, or promote the area among the wider universe with frequent letters, or grow an enchanting garden that will bloom with wisteria, sweet peas and honeysuckle, moon spells after we bid adieu. By being more fluid with the concept of home, we may help those who are itinerant by global upheaval, wars and warming, by designing homes, services and resources that are adaptable to a new population of displaced peoples. By being more flexible, we might serve as role model for the future, which as certain as day is long, is steeped in uncertainty and unknowability. The younger generations may be fortified by our open attitude to change and a heartfelt dedication to living a rich and deep life, while happily creating a number of homes if that is our destiny. For, we are each leaving and departing home every second, the answer to the riddle and the balm to the trauma, might be that we are always at home. So let’s not be afraid to fly away.