In these moments of quiet contemplation, I try to forget what it feels like to live in anger. Not because anger doesn’t have its place. Not because we don’t have every fucking right to be angry. No. But because sometimes great sadness needs the space to sink in. I let it take over completely. Get lost in the kind of despair that shakes apart entire families like a bulldozer ready to fuck over sacred land. We don’t understand how land is sacred. We only understand using land and owning land. But land is alive and it gives life to our body and our spirit. It teaches us to have patience and to wait— as we watch and listen to the earth to get nourishment for our body, for our soul and for our community. It carries the history of people and connects us to dimensions of consciousness, places to understand time. But we forget this. We always forget how things arrive.