How Trees Complicate Our Understanding of Gender
A few years ago, the UK’s oldest tree, a Yew that had spent thousands of years in the appearance of maleness, began to grow female berries.
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How do I raise a child to love a world that may be dying, to live with compassion in the midst of what could very well be despair?
Even before death takes a loved one, marking us with deep knowledge, we partake of death every day.
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We’d made a connection across tables, generations, tongues, our own tiny blip of transcendence. Holiness in the noodle bar.
I tried to put the institution of religion aside to better understand God, but the two were so inextricably linked where I grew up, it felt impossible.
The desire to be a mother is now something that lingers inside of me, an omnipresent hunger.