I’m handing the microphone over to Emily Rapp, today, because her piece, in Salon, is heartbreakingly beautiful. In it, I read of the profound, indeed almost unbearable, corporeality of grief, but also, of an achingly beautiful moment of absolute grace.
“What does it mean to be human, at this time, in this country? I believe it means practicing a radical generosity and empathy, especially when it’s a struggle. You must look around in the soft darkness of your waking life, which is the partner of your dream life. You must understand that accompanying you always is your animal, primal, complicated, desire-driven, calm but desperate, brutal and brilliant self, blinking and breathing gently in the dark, waiting for you to let it into the light.”