Main Course
Healing Fractured Spaces
A quick show of hands: Who else is feeling this mood right about now?
Yeah, me too. I’ve been feeling this for weeks, presenting a facade of calm and normalcy while knowing the absolute dumpster fire that is current American politics is raging in the background.
Recently, I’ve been thinking about the fact that, regardless of who wins tomorrow’s presidential election, much of what ails this country will continue. The toxicity, the fracturing, the discord, will persist. No matter the outcome, it seems it will be harder than ever to mend the tear in our collective social fabric.
Thinking about this reminded me of an online presentation I attended a few months ago, led by Kamuela Enos, the Director of the Office of Indigenous Innovation for the Office of the Vice President of Research and Innovation at the University of Hawaiʻi System. Through Kamuela’s talk titled, “Developing the Practice of Indigenous Data Visualization,” I was introduced to the term pewa. Pewa refers to a bowtie-shaped wooden patch used in traditional Hawaiian woodworking to repair cracks, literally joining together what was once broken apart. (Even if you only watch the section of the recording on pewa [~32:50 - 36:15], the presentation is full of wisdom and insights.)
Kamuela explained that as a boy, the process his father walked him through to make a repair with pewa was as important as the wooden patch itself. Fundamentally, it requires asking, “How do you heal a fractured space, or spaces that are broken?” The process involves three steps: Equity (a willingness to understand the nature of the fracture), Reciprocity (a willingness to build interventions that address the reasons for the fracture, and are built to hold both sides equally strong), and Transparency (the willingness to be clear and honest in intent, and to operate in a transparent way).
I’ve been thinking about this process and how the metaphor of pewa might translate to the fractures we observe in society. What have we tried to hurriedly fix without truly understanding others’ context and loss? How can we create relationships of alignment and mutuality that generate strength for ourselves and for others? When we are in conflict with others, how can we be clear and honest, yet respectful? How can we highlight rather than hide the reality of past fissures, while also honoring the work that was invested to make repairs?
I cannot begin to suggest how this might be done on a national scale, but thinking about what this process might look like writ small feels attainable. If, as they say, all politics is local, then maybe all relationships are personal. And maybe we are each capable of stitching together those things within our personal sphere of care--of mending and healing, of repairing things that have been broken.
In his presentation, Kamuela closed his description of pewa by noting, “If you put a pewa on something, it was meant to be passed along generations. You know that this is sacred and this is special and this is beloved.” This explanation intersects with another quotation I’ve been carrying in my mind recently, from scientist Jonas Salk: “Our greatest responsibility is to be good ancestors.” In this moment, my hope is that we are all thinking about how, through our choices and our efforts to thoughtfully repair what we see is broken, we honor the things we feel are sacred, special, and beloved for future generations.
Quick Bites
I find the natural world to be a balm for the chaos and distress that seems to rule my newsfeed. Below are a few favorites that I turn to when I need a calming reset... How do you reset yourself when things are just a bit too much?
I invite you to send to me a poem, a video, a photo, a song--anything that helps you re-center yourself that you think others could benefit from, too.
I'll share some of these in my next newsletter. Looking forward to what you all send!
Screen grab from animation by Charlotte Agar & Katy Wang
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"The Peace of Wild Things" by Wendell Berry--A Poetry Film by Charlotte Agar & Katy Wang
I've shared this poetry film with a number of colleagues... For me, it's a recognition that so many of us carry our worries for the future into our sleep, and at the same time, spaces of respite are waiting for us, sometimes in our literal backyards.
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Monterey Bay Aquarium Moon Jelly Cam
Something about watching the gentle undulations of the moon jellies is instantly relaxing--I can feel my breathing and heart rate slow with just a few minutes of viewing. If jellies aren't your thing, you can also check out their Shark Cam, Kelp Forest Cam, or Monterey Bay Cam for some moments of serenity.
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Something Sweet
In my last newsletter, I asked you all to share a photo that captures some of the joy of this past summer that you want to hold onto. Ben T. sent this delightful photo of his daughter enjoying a hot summer day at the splash pad in Chicago:
And Alexander A. sent this favorite photo from a summer trip to NYC--it's his own special reminder of the family and life he's building:
Thank you, Ben and Alexander, for sharing a bit of your summertime joy!
With warmth and aloha,
Joyce
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