- Because in a world that loses reason faster than I can keep up with, stillness and listening are healing.
- The start of a new semester, naturally. The last semester of college is one in which I obsessively calculate opportunity costs: I weigh every moment spent on the Internet against time that I could be cramming with “college” experiences, spontaneous trips, splitting nachos and boba tea late at night, sneaking onto fire escapes to watch the sunset.
- Sometimes, there’s little to say because I could add nothing new. My hurt has already been articulated. I’ve discovered that I nurse pain quietly.
- I am also quietly tenacious. Quiet like steady breathing, or an ocean pulsing.
- This is exciting news: Some friends and I are starting an after-school tutoring program for recently arrived immigrant high school students. It’s a pretty time-consuming organizational undertaking, but worth everything I pour into it and am learning from it.
- Sleep and introspection nourish.
- I’ve been experimenting with other forms of writing and publications. I’m challenging the capacities of what my words can do, outside of the forms I’m comfortable with.
- I’ve been conscious of the balance between how I am making space and taking space; I find myself developing the latter, preferring to lend light to the voices I find particularly insightful in trying times.
- Letting this blog change.
- Letting myself change.
- Where I stopped updating: I was ready to publish a review of a wonderful YA novel about an Iranian American girl when the Executive Order was released. I was doubled over in hurt for this character I had met and loved. I saw the book differently, in a way that the first review couldn’t have done justice to: It was newly precious, and urgent. I will probably still publish a review. But at the time, reality had violently asserted itself into reading.
- And why I am trying to come back: Because we find healing in our communities, the ones that can hold our hands and the ones across digital distances. Stories – and the joy of lifting them up in hopes that they will sow a kinder world – are unending.