On Seeking Balance
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Hello friends, When I was a teen, one of my favorite films was Godfrey Reggio’s Koyaanisqatsi. With a score by Philip Glass, it portrayed a world that moved too quickly, a human made world that had become too mechanized, too out of control. The title was said to mean “life out of balance” from a compound Hopi word that roughly translates—or so my research shows—corrupted or chaotic life or existence. That film made a powerful impression on my young self. I sat in the dark theater as the credits rolled, unable to get the image of the fuselage from an exploded rocket ship—tumbling over and over through the air, as a poignant refrain played—out of my head. I’m thinking of that film because this week was the equinox. Equinoxes are usually times in which I pause, take a breath, take stock, and welcome a sense of equilibrium. Not this week. This week I felt pulled between opposing poles. My sleep was disrupted by visions of immigrants being dragged from their homes. Of tourists stopped at the border. Of brutal prisons. Of cruelty beyond measure. A cruelty that I was keenly aware of as that teen... What’s the contrast to this cruelty? Spring flowers bursting everywhere. Birds calling to each other. People reaching out to help each other around the world. But the more jarring contrast? My personal excitement at the novel I just sent to my editor. At the new covers I’m designing for an older, beloved series. At my plans. Other people are not able to make plans right now, so my joy and excitement at my own feel like some sort of betrayal. Intellectually, I know that is a lie. I know that joy and plans and creativity are needed during the cruelest of times, because to give those up is to let the architects of cruelty win. As I immerse myself in a story from another author each evening, I feel in my bones how important it is to create right now. And to take solace in the creations of each other. But that doesn’t mean the juxtaposition doesn’t rest uneasily upon my shoulders. All it means is that I’m here, and I’m not giving up. I hope you’re not giving up, either. I hope you are finding ways to reach out and to create this week. I hope you can pause and enjoy some flowers, too. We counter cruelty with love and creativity, together. And we do it over, and over, and over again. Best wishes - Thorn My fantasy novel By Wind is free this month on retailers if you need a magical escape where community triumphs. You can also request it at your library.
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T. Thorn Coyle
Hello friends, It’s a rainy summer solstice here in beautiful Portland, Oregon. The sun is hiding, but, as I move my way around the city, I still see all the ways in which things shine. There are roses in full bloom everywhere. People don’t call this Rose City for nothing. Some roses are fragrant, others, not so much. But each flower is gorgeous in its own way, whether pink, red, yellow, or white. What else is shining? The glint on a crow’s beak. Rain on the sidewalks. People. Yeah. People....
Hello friends, These are tough days, aren’t they? At least, they are for anyone paying attention to the world. In Portland Oregon where I live, a dedicated group of activists have been holding it down outside the ICE facility. This is a privately owned building, and another group of activists is pressuring our city council to revoke the lease, so ICE does not have a holding and staging area in our sanctuary city. Especially not next to a school and apartment buildings. Last night, the...
Hello friends, Last week, I talked about encountering foxglove on a city sidewalk, and asked how your heart was. But the foxglove also got me thinking: Who first figured out it could be used to help with heart disease? I’m always amazed at the ancestors who figured these medicines out. Who would think that these lovely pink bells would be useful for more than their beauty? Who first figured out we could cure olives and eat them? Who was it that experimented enough to know that the bark of a...