A Beginning

On making meaning in hard times—and a manifesto born of belonging

Photo by Thais Aquino

Dear community,

For some time now, I have been inspired by the vast array of Substack offerings to offer something of my own. I receive a flow of followers every day and until now have not felt I had the capacity to focus on another thing in my life. At last, this Substack idea has stopped flickering and come into focus. It feels like a relief to have a place to try new ideas, test older ones, and share what matters most to me in hopes that some of it might matter to you, too. Together, we may yet make meaning of the great conundrum of being alive in these times.

Here is a little something I wrote for my friend Andrew Harvey, who is always urging me–and all of us–to take a stand.

Manifesto
 
This manifesto is stained with coffee and wine.
It has been repurposed for a five-year-old learning to spell
Cat, mat, epiphany and serendipity.
Come winter it will be crumpled up
and used to start a fire in the wood stove.
 
This manifesto has been written in blood.
Menstrual blood, gunshot wound, broken heart blood.
Scrawled in crayon, whispered in watercolor.
It has been written in invisible ink.
The words reveal themselves when touched by falling tears.
 
This manifesto is multilingual.
It speaks Hebrew, Arabic, Creole: mostly the vocabulary of praise.
It sings in hip hop and aria, gospel and silence.
It can be translated into any language, living or dead.
But only if the translator claims it as her own.
 
This manifesto grew inside me
Seeded by my most intimate companions
Nourished by naps, chilled custards and warm baths.
I would not dare to speak it without you beside me
To catch the toy arrows as they fall at my feet.
 
This manifesto is an invitation, not a demand.
A fiesta, not a funeral.
It welcomes those who yearn for justice
And forgives those who perpetuate harm.
Jesus jotted down this idea in the sand and Mary Magdalene finessed it.
 
If I were to distill pages and pages of carefully reasoned argument
To some kind of quintessence, it might be:
Listen, you belong to each other.
You are as common and as quirky as a quark.
We have been waiting for you.

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With love,

Mirabai