Big blobs with beans of not knowing and sweet queer kisses.

It’s 18:07, I have 43 minutes left and I have no words. All I have is my mind going at full speed, inventing loops and jumps as if I’m pitching the design for a new rollercoaster.

But I’m not. So instead, I’ll share a tumble of thoughts in the hopes of finding something in (between) the lines:

I’ve been thinking about beans of not knowing, which grow bigger as you plant them, fill up with more questions.

I’ve been thinking about a place where you can plant those beans with others, gently and without shame or hesitation about putting your not knowing in a sweet and fertile, accepting, warm soil.

I’ve been thinking about a classroom where you do not feel like you should be googling terms and names below your desk, because asking questions is ok and not having the answer is celebrated.

I’ve been thinking about radical listening, what that looks like, to truly listen to other people, to your environment, the plants, the air your breathe, the land on which you stand.

I’ve been thinking about a big blob that moves and morphs into different shapes that facilitate a generosity in sharing - beyond capitalist logic of self-serving, individualism, competition - that I have never truly felt anyone.

I’ve been thinking about Adventure Time, about that moment when Marceline and Princess Bubblegum kiss and how that makes me feel all warm and gooey.

I’ve been thinking about queerness in its most expansive form that wraps itself around everything.

I’ve been thinking about a space without language, where gestures and movement is enough, or where perhaps just by being present you can share exactly what happens inside of you, but that also sounds a little scary.

I’ve been thinking about crayons, bright, colorful, expressive crayons that draw big strokes onto a piece of paper, big joyful strokes of openness that draw a place where all of this is held.

I’ve been thinking about Parable of the Talents by Octavia Butler and the first pages of that book, where she describes the shape that Earthseed has taken, the skill-sharing and storytelling that lies at the heart of this community. But how also fear is what holds them together, and how I want to find another glue of connectivity that is based on something other than fear or a sense of not belonging / reclaiming space.

I've been thinking about abundant and all encompassing access intimacy and the ways in which this runs through space, time and language.

I've been thinking about holding space for the heavy feelings, the darker thoughts, for grief, for sadness and how that looks like a room filled with pillows, snacks and the feeling of being alone but never lonely.

I've been thinking about water, nurturing, hydrating, sharing meals and drinks and laughter.

Big blobs with beans of not knowing and…