And that that which sings and contemplates in you is still dwelling within the bounds of that first moment which scattered the stars into space. – Kahlil Gibran, On Time
I keep thinking about the moon and how I fear for her. Since we crashed into her, my memory has felt ajar.
It eerily coincides with the heightened American assault on women’s access to comprehensive health care.
And the seemingly, dwindling support of women’s bodies:
(Our Bodies Ourselves needs to raise $50,000 by Dec. 31 to maintain staffing and continue program work at current levels. Royalties from the books account for less than 6 percent of their budget. They depend on donors and grants to make up the other lean 94 percent. Our Bodies Ourselves is there for women seeking trusted, independent advice from our meticulously researched books, updated online health center and daily news blog. For nearly 40 years, they have been there when you needed honest answers and expert information.)
(Regardless of how an Abortioneer will re-define gratitude in order to sustain motivation throughout the countless, thankless days.)
Which brings me to my point of this molasses blog: No one in the history of humankind has ever planned an unplanned pregnancy, but when did humankind become so sociopathic and short-term thinking that we forwent our capacity to empathize with the fish that walked out of the water, with our ancient wisdom dwelling in the ethers?