Monday, June 25, 2012
Being with change, as it happens, slowly or suddenly or however it feels like doing its thing that day, is so excruciating sometimes.
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Saturday, June 23, 2012
I'm proud, this year, of Hanifeh, the young, Shia Muslim, Afghani woman whom I've never met, with the Sunni husband of whom her family does not approve and the three year old daughter named Dayana, and who lives on the 10th floor of my grandmother's apartment building in Toronto, and who has begun to help my Mamani bathe, as she has trouble stepping in and out of the tub on her own.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
It is the first day of summer and I am bleeding something fierce. I am in a lot of pain. Cramps, yes. But they are a physical manifestation of all the other stuff. Sometimes I think that's what they are, in general. For all women/people assigned female at birth/people with vaginas. A reminder, once a month, that the world is a hard place for you to be born into, a hard place for you to live in. And if there's even some little bit of pain from the assaults you have surely experienced daily just because of who you are that you are not letting yourself feel, here's a reminder. Feel it. Feel that pain.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
I am leaving Berkeley Bowl with a shopping cart full of groceries and become annoyed to see a taxi parked behind my truck. I maneuver around it and am loading my purchases when the driver comes out of the cab and asks for my help in translating between him and his passenger. (How did he read me as Iranian? Even with his broken English, he has to have lived here in Berkeley for long enough to have seen a shitload of us, because unless it's a delighted white person telling me how much they love every Iranian they've ever met, most folks usually call me something like, "That Mexican girl with the funny name.")
Sunday, June 17, 2012
1) no one is ever going to commit to me
2) no one is going to care about me if I'm not there every single time they need something
3) I am going to have this job forever
4) nobody sees that I am valuable
5) I'm going to die before I leave any kind of mark on the world.
You know. Just a little light Father's Day thinking for ya.
Friday, June 15, 2012
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Resisting white heteropatriarchy,
Writing a letter of appreciation to my father that seemed to just pour straight out of my heart,
Picking up boxes that will contain the belongings of a piece of my heart as she moves away,
Doing stupid computer things that help my spiritual home function so it can help my little broken-winged baby bird of a community heal.
Just another day in the life of Mahfam.
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Monday, June 11, 2012
Friday, June 8, 2012
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
It is in fact my job to decolonize my own self. It is in fact my job to examine the ways I've been oppressed and the ways I participate in the oppression of others, and to attempt to heal from my trauma and the trauma I inflict on others, either directly or through being complicit in traumatic systems. It is in fact my job to be a better person to myself and a better person to others. It is in fact my job to be a better person.
Monday, June 4, 2012
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Iced coffee from Sweet Adeline with a splash of half and half and a splash of soy
A whole wheat tortilla with a couple slivers of organic monterey jack cheese melted onto it. A couple of mushrooms, a leaf of kale, some pinto beans, and part of a green onion stalk all sauteed together, and folded into the tortilla along with some fresh green onion, a dollop of organic whole milk yogurt, half of a small avocado, and some Valentina hot sauce.
A bowl of cherries. Please find above, the last of the breakfast dessert cherries.
Friday, June 1, 2012
I like marking the days like this. Next June 1st, I will look back and maybe not remember this day at all, or maybe remember it as the day I woke up and got on a conference call about Disability Justice, got canceled on by a friend, and hung out with another friend and talked about healing and intentional self-work and relationships while lounging by the Fairyland sign.
I look forward to these markers. I look forward to looking back and remembering, last year, such and such thing happened, not having anything to do with my ex, or my old home, or my old sadness, or the hail on the first day of June. I look forward to next year. I look forward to the days to come. I look forward.