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I am learning to imagine the future:

My sycamore tree began life in the gravel at the edge of a parking lot. If trees can feel pain, that is a painful, unlucky death. I carefully dug it up and put it in a pot I made out of a disposable cup.

Hello small one. This world may be cruel, but I will not be.

I decided to take care of it, not expecting it to survive, and when my sycamore tree unfurled one tiny leaf and then another, it chiseled a tiny foothold in my terrified brain, the kind of brain that doesn't remember a world before the atomic bomb and before 9/11.

I googled the lifespans of trees. My neurons had to stretch and expand to accommodate what I learned: My sycamore tree may live five hundred years. It's hard to think something so big. In twenty years, my baby sycamore tree will be three stories tall, and the home of many creatures. In five years, my sycamore tree will be taller than I am. In one year, it will be summer.

There's this concept called sense of foreshortened future where people who have lived through trauma can't conceptualize a future for themselves because deep down they don't expect to survive, When I look forward, all I see is fire and death, melting ice and burning sky. We were raised Evangelical. All we see is Judgment Day, except there is no heaven.

But now there is a tiny gap in the wall, a crack in the door of my cell

and on the other side, I see a tree

There is, in the future, a great old sycamore tree, full of clean winds and the stir of a thousand wings. A hundred years from now. Fifty years from now. There will be forests in that world. There will be a world.

It takes courage, but we have to imagine it.

Most tree species can live in excess of three or four hundred years. I think I'm learning something. I think there are ancient voices saying hello small one, touch the dirt and the leaves, for now you are part of something that cannot die

in 2030 I will be thirty years old and the world will not have ended and there will still be hummingbirds, and we will have photos of the stars more beautiful than we can now imagine.

I planted an Eastern Redcedar; they may live nine hundred years. There will be nine hundred years. The people in that time will remember us. Maybe we will meet the aliens (hi aliens!).

I will blow out the candles on many birthday cakes in a world where there are wolves in dark forests far from home. I am learning to imagine the future. I learned recently that elk were reintroduced to the Appalachian Mountains after over a hundred years of extirpation, and that they are expanding their range.

That tiny crack I can see through now opens a tiny bit more:

Maybe elk will pass through my hometown, maybe there will be a forest where the pasture is on the high hill that I can see from my home

say it, say it, say it: ten years, thirty years, a hundred years from now

I am learning to imagine the future. There is a crack in the wall of this prison, of this machine, of this darkness, and through it, I see a tree.

nature held me close and seemed to find no fault with me

terfs fuck off

made in 2023

"You can only be butch or femme" wrong that's actually a false dykeotomy

tearing bread apart and handing it to someone else is so… spiritual and intimate

Ok but like unironically this is so Thérèse of Lisieux coded

Like the concept of being so small that you lack the ability to move and raise yourself up without falling because you lack the ability to balance and regulate yourself on the way, but nevertheless you keep trying, and you keep moving in your own small way, and God loves you nevertheless as he loves and cherishes all creation, and there is always a small way—an elevator, a way to be lifted up to God—a way that does not require you to be bigger or stronger or more righteous bc you don’t need to be. God loves you all the same.

So there are several species of frogs that have evolved to be so small that their vestibular balance system doesn't work well and I'm sorry but it's the funniest thing to watch them try to jump.

There aren't enough fucking hours in the day to get real good at chess, violin, piano, singing, crosswords, film photography, contemporary dance, literary analysis, writing, film criticism, historical analysis, political commentary, tennis, Latin, French, German, Italian, identification of invertebrates, programming, cooking, musical composition, watercolour painting, philosophy, stage acting, fencing, psychoanalysis, and sickoposting online.

thinking about the body as a temple and as a constantly-transforming artwork made by god. thinking about the body as something that does not belong to the earth, or your parents, but to god.

do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? you are not your own; you were bought at a price. therefore honor God with your bodies.

corinthians 6:19-20

francis, go and repair my house, which, as you see, is in ruins.

the major legend of saint francis by st. bonaventure

do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.

romans 12:2

if my temple, my body, is in ruins, because of my conforming to the world--my conforming to what others expect from me... then my renewal (my active, compassionate, new understanding of myself and my gender, that brings me closer to god's transformative vision), my act of transitioning, is a holy act.

i’m like if a saint was also a faggot

Some of my favourite requiem chasubles. We never see priests wearing anything like this anymore. Memento mori!

“Every creature is a glittering, glistening mirror of divinity.”

— St. Hildegard of Bingen (via eternal-echoes)

medieval women mystics were the original fag hags

"oh so you're spiritual but not religious" no actually I am deeply religious in alarmingly carnal and esoteric ways. If you even care.

i hate fatigueee its so stupid. ohh when im home i'll do this or that Nope. replacing all of your bones with pure titanium now. Goodbye

All girls these days know how to do is be lesbian, obsess over niche medieval theology, hyperfixate on Mary Mother of God and yearn.

The Creator has entrusted us with the task of performing these small, simple acts of goodness, reserving the grand schemes to Himself. Through our seemingly insignificant actions, the Divine works His greater purposes. Our Lord, who created the expanse of the universe from nothing, is adept at manifesting grandeur from the minuscule.

Archbishop John (Shahovskoy) of San Francisco

"not to be a lesbian but-" Wrong. Intending to be a lesbian. With lesbian intention. In lesbian ways

heyy, fellow Christian here (catholic)

I saw you say that you struggle with the idea that those that don't believe in Christ won't be saved, and i get it because some time ago i struggled with it too, but i have great news for you: the Church teaches that it isn't true!!

Like, what saves people is Grace, and while God surely does give Grace through the sacraments, He can also give it in extraordinary ways only He knows.

Which means that actually a person that doesn't know Christ might be more in Grace than a person that does but, for example, decides to sin and not repent.

Idk if this helps, but it gives me hope and peace so i hope it will bring them to you too

ps: i am not used to talk about religion in english, so i hope that what i wrote was at least understandable ckxjdk

It was really nice to hear that the church teaches this and that non-believers can receive God's Grace and loving mercy, thank you for telling me about this ❤️

they hate it when you serve latina with a complex relationship with catholicism

you believe in the Trinity because you were told to never question the core religious beliefs taught to you by your family and community since a very early age. i believe in the Trinity because it is deeply bizarre, sensual and mysterious. we are not the same!!!

"I thank my God upon every remembrance of you" has to be one of my favorite verses in the bible. that's love

*displays textbook symptomatic behavior of my own disorder that I am well educated on* what’s my deal why am I like this

“Jesus Christ is not a proposition, not a theological concept which exists merely in our heads. He is an event of liberation, a happening in the lives of oppressed people struggling for political freedom. Therefore, to know him is to encounter him in the history of the weak and the helpless.”

— James Cone, God of the Oppressed  (via sonnywortzik)