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humansofnewyork:

"Do you remember the most frightened you’ve ever been?"
"When I thought I’d have to raise my son alone. His father and I weren’t getting along."
"Sounds like you worked things out with the father?"
"No. The fear just went away when I learned I could do it on my own."

(via dixiecaviar)

hellojaeson

I think women got stronger with age…

Not because they lifted more sacks of gold

Or filled up dams with metric kilo tonnes of granite 

Or dug out more graves than a hundred million uranium bombs

Instead,

they quietly found

something to give meaning to life.

I mean…

Take 

my

grandmother

When my own grandma was alive…

The only thing I looked forward to… 

Was

her

in

the

kitchen…

Concocting, reinventing, rediscovering edible alchemy…

The chemistry between us…

Between her and her children… and her children’s children…

Seem to come

from

absorbing

her

very sweat

and toil

over

gas

stoves

and charcoal fires…

So I bit into parts of her spirit…

And so

When we

the collective 

we

When we read

about

biscuits

Or chicken

Or gravy

Or bread

Or marinades

Or casseroles

Or any other algorithm

Devised revisited and revised

from

scratch 

Each

bite

from

each

batch

Is 

blood

running

from another solar system

Another parallel universe

Making constellations

patterns of meaning

spreading

out

growing further

reaching and climbing

from 

our gut

our tongues

our lips

all the way up

to the ceiling

and past 

the roof

until

it reaches

and unites us

like a very 

very

very

long

phone 

cord

that 

allows us

to speak to the dead

commune with the living

and make magic from wheat dust, animal remains and burning trees.

So

Don’t just talk of the birds and the bees.

Each mouthful

of this work

is where

I feel

the strength of the lone mother comes from.

From feeding

her little selves

with the mathematics of comfort and survival and love.

All in one mouthful.

As fearless as kisses.

Her lips to ours.

Eternal as sunrise and moon glow.

Women got stronger with age

when they use their kitchens

as weapons of mass inspiration

where God and Man converse

through the wordless dialogue of texture, flavour and nourishment.

Each bite, a psalm.

Each sip, a stanza.

Each gulp, an Amen.

They say,

men are the heads of households.

They leave out.

That the women

in these stories,

are the nerve endings that connect the cortex to arms and legs and heart and veins.

Keeping clusters of generations of tummies and beating chests renewed after each sermon at the dining table.

Is this all just metaphor and fable?

When you lose your grandma.

And when you start to cook and eat and smell the kitchen

just to bring her back 

for just a morsel of a moment.

Then come talk to me

and tell me,

she didn’t bewitch you with her eternal sorcery.

My own grandmother 

is stronger now

than

when

we hugged

at the airport

on my way to freshman year

a million

ticket 

stubs ago.

Women grow stronger with age

and

I sometimes

crumble

under

its weightless power.

sharron64:

upworthy:

Just Made A Rape Joke? Think It’s Edgy? Well Here’s A Truth Bomb.

Comedian Jamie Kilstein thinks we shouldn’t joke about violence against women. That view got him notably shunned from the comedy community; other famous comedians weighed in, called him names, it was a whole thing. As a result, he lost a TV deal, promotional gigs, and friends — all because he said rape jokes are bad.

Sharron64:

He’s right, there is absolutely nothing funny about rape.

Also, I’d say its sick not hilarious if comics are making jokes about rape. It’s seriously bad taste.

Hellojaeson:

Edgy comics are the same people who make fun of politicians already unpopular. The same people who’ll make fun of the fat kid whom everyone else is berating.

Edgy comics don’t stand on the edge. They’re right in the middle of the mediocre mess of human compromise.

So the next time some ‘edgy’ comic makes you laugh, stop for a second at least and consider what you’re condoning. Comedy is inherently cruel. I’m not sure why but we humans enjoy laughing at someone else’s misfortunes.

A Show for Our Ambivalent Times...

I feel that Rectify is something unique.

It celebrates the life we live in right now.

With all of our well meaning fears.

With all of our unwillingness to bow.

Or break.

And then be so fragile at times, we want only to burst and boil over.

And be pulled every way we know as directions from our coiled truer selves.

Who are we?

How many different directions can we be pulled apart?

Can we drift away from our centre?

Rectify asks these questions in a way that the answers aren’t as important as what we can do… when walking down such a slippery slope towards blurred light and false finishing ribbons…

This being human is a guest house. Every morning is a new arrival. A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor…Welcome and entertain them all. Treat each guest honorably. The dark thought, the shame, the malice, meet them at the door laughing, and invite them in. Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.
Rumi (via faroofash)
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