Weaving Solidarity

I am woven through the people I know, the people I connect, and the lifeways, pains, and laughs we share. I’ve been taught. I’ve been affected. I’ve been drawn. I’ve been passionate. I’ve been sick. I’ve been relieved. So many waters have I drifted in my dreams. But seldom have the emotional and carnal energies- that flow through my body as the most vital breath- been invited to the academic grounds. This is where the meaning of this experience rests. This course invited us to go beyond the classroom. This course was filled with lively hearts and strong hands that came together, and walked together. This class invited us to be fully- with joy and fear- to speak and be kind- to know your limits and walk paths before unvisited.

our inner voice is constantly surfacing. and it sparks with the world that surrounds us. we are because of the lines that make our lives, meaningful, spread, tied, and united. the lines that connect us to the smells, songs, sweets, and springs that make us strong. the lines that so fine, so gentle, so vital, make us who we are. know your lines. choose your lines. create your lines. strengthen those lines. power them with genuine intentions and attention. as the poet Fernando Pessoa says “todo vale a pena, se la alma no és pequeña” – share your energy and let your soul expand the outer layers of the body, let it reach others and reach through the energy from the winds and warm soils.

lines have two ends. or two beginnings, one can say. or multiple ones. connected through, with more or less energy channeled through at times. I roam back in my memory of the dialogues and moments we shared amongst our class, and with Jen, Célia, Marla, and the people that sprouted around this movement that came to life. solidarity isn’t an end or achievement to be met. solidarity is a bond that arises from our encounters. our minds can create achievements and goals, but what makes it so that it matters beyond the ends? being together, acting together, sharing spontaneous energy and ideas. our shared visions merged into beautiful gatherings and events.

Swiftly, I left the city. To be nestled in a Valley where fresh water is plenty and running through. Me and Célia talked about this place one afternoon while she taught me how to weave on the backstrap loom. Two lines broke off since. Patience much needed. Gentle but with precision. And the loom opens itself, as you open yourself to changes and others. Once I’m done this piece I’m waiting until Célia and I meet again. So I linger on it- each day when my hands are free to weave in the afternoon breeze.

the river flows- the water we drink, the water we drift,

everywhere is the same, every path meets again,

what makes it worth is the people you meet along the way~

hasta la próxima,

marina