I paused. What would it take? I thought about the ice melting in Greenland at a rate not expected for 50 years. I thought the fires tearing across California, forcing hundreds of thousands of people to evacuate. I thought about the Bahamas, the Amazon, and the desperate cry of scientists saying we have approximately 14 months to turn this ship around.
And then I thought about all the people who aren’t doing anything to change. The ones committed to their patterns of consumption despite the world melting and burning around them. …
Forget your perfect offering.
Just ring the bells that still can ring.
There is a crack in everything.
That’s how the light gets in.
The ways in which the capitalist belief system keeps us oppressed are many. We are taught that our worth is based on our productivity and ability to work. We are taught that love comes from a purchase or a partner. We are taught that certain feelings are “bad” and that we can buy / drink / eat / fuck / smoke or otherwise numb these feelings away. …
As the leaves turn and the air brisk-ens, Americans are gearing up to buy $2.6 billion dollars worth of bite-sized chocolate bars and multi-coloured sugar. This annual cultural practice is a mere drop in the climate crisis bucket, but since water has begun pouring over the edges, every drop counts.
We are throttling towards certain death if we don’t make significant and immediate sacrifices. Anything not imperative to our survival must be left behind.
No ‘trick or treat’ on a dead planet.
\ ˈspel \
1: to form words with letters
2: a spoken form of words held to have magic power
The world is built out of stories we tell ourselves. Every time we speak we are casting spells, whether we realize it or not. To take back our power, we weave words with intention. This spell can be used however you see fit — in ceremony, as a meditation, mantra, or woven into your travel goods. You are free to modify it to fit your needs, and you’re invited to use your intuition to pair it with herbs, oils, flowers…
I just paid $14 for a bag of dirt. It’s not the end of the world but it’s also not ideal for a full-time artist living off the support of patrons and, well, Medium claps.
It happened so quickly. I didn’t check the price before the shopkeeper loaded it into the back of the car and all of a sudden I was handing over 26 bucks for one shiny blue pot and a bag of dirt. Apparently that’s what you get when you decide to buy garden supplies at a bougie plant shop in the middle of Hollywood.
The world we live in is built out of story. When we moved on from the trees and the mountains and the fields and into homes and cities, we built them out of story. Tales of who we are, how we live and love and breed. We left nature behind and wove a new narrative.
Everything is story. Blue is for boys and pink is for girls. Love belongs to two people under God. Work is done Monday to Friday. …
ESOTERIA is a publication that takes a deliberate look at things unknown. Our mission statement is to better understand the human condition by engaging with fields and experiences that have been otherwise dismissed.
We’re interested in work that is measured and thought-provoking. We aim to emphasize radically compassionate thinking and err on the side of optimism. We welcome any and all perspectives backed by the motivation of evolving human consciousness.
What, specifically, are we looking for?
We’re looking for personal essays, interviews, inquiries, open letters, recipes, meditations, book reviews, and any other formation of words and photos that look at…
I knew what I was getting into when I decided to read the YouTube comments on the film I made about love and dating. “Ignore the comments,” DUST’s programming director warned me a few days before the film’s release. “People can get really nasty behind avatars.”
I didn’t listen. My film, Multiverse Dating for Beginners, is about a woman who suffers many broken hearts while struggling to secure a date with the guy she likes. She jumps through several parallel universes in attempts to get it right. In doing so, she notices how differently he responds in each situation. Specifically…
I am grateful for my neuroses.
Patterns and poetry from an old story.
Pages worn. Cover torn.
I am grateful for my anxiety.
How it reminds me my fear of pain.
How it places gentle hands over bruises still healing.
I am grateful for my mind.
Thinking and processing and analyzing all possible outcomes.
Calculating and whirling and coming up with only this:
Gently darling, your thoughts aren’t real.
Those patterns? They are ancient myth.
Those bruises? They aren’t tender anymore.
The shades of their healing show the depths of your heart. …
Fugitive. Systemsthinker. Saving the world is easier than we think. There is no world.