The War Remnants Museum in Saigon is a museum that does not shy away from the purpose of its existence. Its core thesis is evident in every exhibition, every photograph, even the song that plays on repeat with the haunting vocals of a child echoing across the halls. On the second floor of the museum… Continue reading In the Midst of Motorbike Storms: Saigon and Reflections on Finding Calm and Movement
If you come as softlyAs the wind within the treesYou may hear what I hearSee what sorrow sees. -from "If You Come Softly" by Audre Lorde Six months ago I wrote a piece about my corn plant that I had been slowly nursing back to health and how broken down things can be revived. Six… Continue reading Toward 34: “If You Come Softly”
If there was a frequent flyer program for crying on airplanes, I would always fly first class. I can't remember when I first decided that these steel birds were the perfect environment for heart-wrenching tears, but they have been the primary setting for some of my deepest (and loudest) sobs in life. Perhaps it's because… Continue reading The Art of Plane Crying
Thirty-three. A year many refer to as your "Jesus Year." Scholars believe that 33 is the year that Jesus started a spiritual and political revolution that led to his crucifixion. It's a year meant to put you on a different path than the ones you were on before. The year you put the things together… Continue reading For 32: The Practice of Letting Go
I begin my days with the start of the prayer of Teilhard de Chardin: Above all, trust in the slow work of God. Time is something that moves slowly these days. Time between the next blood draw, the next doctor's visit, the next thing to change about my daily routine to adapt to new realities.… Continue reading Love notes to my body and the slow work of God
I never thought that sitting outside, the rays of the sun kissing my face and dancing off of my dark skin would feel so rare and necessary. Today is my 53rd day in some type of self-quarantine or shelter-in-place since returning from Thailand at the end of February. I didn't know when I was on… Continue reading Held
The coronavirus had been on my mind since early January because I was scheduled to go to Thailand for vacation and work in February, and I was unsure if I should or would be able to go. I carefully watched each day as cases and deaths in China continued to rise, and held my breath… Continue reading Separation, Distance
I was reminded recently at church that rest is an act of worship. That I must remember Mama Angelou's words that the world will keep going even if I stop to breathe. That it is in these moments that I pause to take in the beauty of the world. I recently went to Alaska for… Continue reading Resetting
On a quiet road in an old Detroit neighborhood, you'll turn a corner and be greeted by vibrant displays of outdoor art. The Heidelberg Project, as it is called, was started by Tyree Guyton on Detroit's Eastside. It is a labor of love borne from a history of the desecration of black bodies and histories,… Continue reading A Moment in Detroit
Cuando me veo y toco yo, Juan sin Nada no más ayer, y hoy Juan con Todo, y hoy con todo, vuelvo los ojos, miro, me veo y toco y me pregunto cómo ha podido ser. - de "Tengo", Nicolas Guillen Tengo. I first fell in love with Cuba over the poem "Tengo" by Nicolas… Continue reading “Finally, We Eat, and Our Children Play”: Reflections on a Visit to Cuba
Odelia Younge 