Thank you for this powerful essay. I don't really know what else to say right now. It's so difficult to articulate what's happening in this moment, and not just in Gaza as you note. Are we seeing the death of empire(s)? The birth of nation(s)? It's hard to gauge as we're in this chaotic, historic maelstrom, being swept around in time's violent winds. Of course, like others, I'd like to think we're seeing the collapse of empires for something better, more just, a spatiality where accountability and reconciliation exist. But who's to say that will come? I refuse to give up hope, however. That would leave me dead inside.
I think of the family I support in Gaza. I can't give up on them. The fact that they are surviving, despite the odds, is remarkable. That gives me hope. So, I will continue to support them in the small ways that I am, praying that they make it out alive and that there will be a new dawn for them and all the other Palestinians suffering.
It really is a chaotic, historic maelstrom. And despite everything, I agree we have to remain hopeful and keep on contributing as much as we can. Impossible times… ❤️🩹
These times really are impossible. That's why we need to stay connected to those with good hearts and sturdy minds. Thanks for replying and, most of all, thanks for writing this truly wonderful piece.
So what ambitious literature of our times should be produced? Call it liberatory, call it revolutionary, call it populist and progressive or socialist, call it something imperative to the times. It should be created as if our very lives depend on it, because they do. It should be made and distributed as if the fate of the planet depends on it, because it does.
I feel strongly that we are now in a revolutionary time, and I hope to see more art and writings from the masses of the people. it's needed more now than ever
Thank you for sharing this beautifully raw piece. Your words are not just testimony; they are a summons. If rubble is what empire leaves behind, the question is: what do we build with it? Do we allow it to harden into monuments of forgetting, or do we stand with those who refuse erasure?
The end of empire? The birth of a nation? Perhaps neither. What matters is whether enough of us are willing to act, to use what we have to break the silences that keep the rubble in place.
Your essay left me holding the weight of Gaza, Sudan, rubble, statues, and empire exactly as you describe: grief, rage, and helplessness circling like restless ghosts. It moved me to write a response, reflecting on trauma, soul wounds, and radical love as resistance. I also tried to link it back to your inspirational stack (I'm learning so forgive the clunky way it is done). Here it is:
Thank you for writing in a way that not only demands to be read, but also invites response. I hope this can be one thread in a larger conversation about how we carry grief and transform it into radical hope.
Months have past since I saved your read... yet I wanted to pass by today as I just finished reading it, and wanted to show my appreciation towards this unfortunately beautifully painful piece. To be honest I am not that educated on the subject and have not read before about Aime Cesaire’s theory of the “imperial boomerang”— yet found it to be really interesting and a hard truth of today's world too. I too wonder, whether what is happening is the death of empire(s) -as Cryns Johannsen stated on her comment- and which I dream about too, or the other end of the spectrum mentioned, which I'd rather keep aside. Keeping the hope at sight when what everything else that's unwrapping right in front our eyes shows us the exact (or an even more extreme reality) isn't an easy task, but one we should fight for. Thank you so much Bhakti, for this piece, and even if read late, I still appreciate pieces that make me think, that make me question, that make me dream of the better world, deep down, I know, exists. Have a powerful week!
Thank you for this powerful essay. I don't really know what else to say right now. It's so difficult to articulate what's happening in this moment, and not just in Gaza as you note. Are we seeing the death of empire(s)? The birth of nation(s)? It's hard to gauge as we're in this chaotic, historic maelstrom, being swept around in time's violent winds. Of course, like others, I'd like to think we're seeing the collapse of empires for something better, more just, a spatiality where accountability and reconciliation exist. But who's to say that will come? I refuse to give up hope, however. That would leave me dead inside.
I think of the family I support in Gaza. I can't give up on them. The fact that they are surviving, despite the odds, is remarkable. That gives me hope. So, I will continue to support them in the small ways that I am, praying that they make it out alive and that there will be a new dawn for them and all the other Palestinians suffering.
It really is a chaotic, historic maelstrom. And despite everything, I agree we have to remain hopeful and keep on contributing as much as we can. Impossible times… ❤️🩹
These times really are impossible. That's why we need to stay connected to those with good hearts and sturdy minds. Thanks for replying and, most of all, thanks for writing this truly wonderful piece.
This is a revolutionary time. It must be.
So what ambitious literature of our times should be produced? Call it liberatory, call it revolutionary, call it populist and progressive or socialist, call it something imperative to the times. It should be created as if our very lives depend on it, because they do. It should be made and distributed as if the fate of the planet depends on it, because it does.
I feel strongly that we are now in a revolutionary time, and I hope to see more art and writings from the masses of the people. it's needed more now than ever
Thank you for sharing this beautifully raw piece. Your words are not just testimony; they are a summons. If rubble is what empire leaves behind, the question is: what do we build with it? Do we allow it to harden into monuments of forgetting, or do we stand with those who refuse erasure?
The end of empire? The birth of a nation? Perhaps neither. What matters is whether enough of us are willing to act, to use what we have to break the silences that keep the rubble in place.
Your essay left me holding the weight of Gaza, Sudan, rubble, statues, and empire exactly as you describe: grief, rage, and helplessness circling like restless ghosts. It moved me to write a response, reflecting on trauma, soul wounds, and radical love as resistance. I also tried to link it back to your inspirational stack (I'm learning so forgive the clunky way it is done). Here it is:
https://open.substack.com/pub/thehumanway/p/rubble-resistance-and-radical-hope?utm_source=share&utm_medium=android&r=o3h8f
Thank you for writing in a way that not only demands to be read, but also invites response. I hope this can be one thread in a larger conversation about how we carry grief and transform it into radical hope.
Thank you so much for reading and for your comment ❤️🩹 Will read your essay now.
❤️🔥
Months have past since I saved your read... yet I wanted to pass by today as I just finished reading it, and wanted to show my appreciation towards this unfortunately beautifully painful piece. To be honest I am not that educated on the subject and have not read before about Aime Cesaire’s theory of the “imperial boomerang”— yet found it to be really interesting and a hard truth of today's world too. I too wonder, whether what is happening is the death of empire(s) -as Cryns Johannsen stated on her comment- and which I dream about too, or the other end of the spectrum mentioned, which I'd rather keep aside. Keeping the hope at sight when what everything else that's unwrapping right in front our eyes shows us the exact (or an even more extreme reality) isn't an easy task, but one we should fight for. Thank you so much Bhakti, for this piece, and even if read late, I still appreciate pieces that make me think, that make me question, that make me dream of the better world, deep down, I know, exists. Have a powerful week!