Our Karman Line


Today let’s concentrate on following the air.

The edge of our atmosphere, the beginning of space? It has a name. The Karman Line.

Today, ending the week, I’m concentrating on acknowledging and paying respect to that line… a holy edge between that which nourishes me and that which isn’t suitable for my lungs.

Breathe in the atmosphere that you know, remembering the dignity and beauty of our very real limitations as human beings tethered to Earth.

Breathe out into the majesty of the unknown and magical that is inhospitable to lungs but so powerful for spirits.

The Karman Line is your line. It’s our line. It’s where auroras flirt. What will you do at the edge of your power?

And no, you’re not there yet.


Interests are starting to viciously compete.

Nerves are fraying or frayed long past the root of the axon..

Folks have decided that the best way to protect themselves is to hurt each other, and I don’t mean physically.

I was in a union leader’s office recently and they mentioned, almost in a whisper, that they didn’t know what to tell people in the next meeting. They were worried that the moment required more than what was on offer from their leadership. The solution they came to? Retirement.Β πŸ˜‚πŸ™ƒπŸ€¬πŸ˜“πŸ˜’

I used to get angry when my white allies would walk away when times got hard. I would clench my teeth, get drunk, call them cowards. Over time, I started to get used to the idea that I needed to expect that solidarity would only be available in short bursts from everyone and to treat them like notes being played on an instrument. The music is supposed to come from us playing together in a rhythm, not one note droning on from a tired bassoon player hoping to extend that long B flat. It doesn’t mean that you get a pass for falling short (because sometimes you’re just out of shape, not out of gas) but we should at least discuss it first. Even nuclear reactors occasionally require new fuel rods.

Urgency, lately, has felt kinda silly to pursue tbh. Everyone everywhere is feeling the urgency of everything already. Why bring it up when it is literally (seriously, look it up, it really is) damaging the complex mental-health fabric of the United States more than it already was before 2016? Uncontrolled urgency generally destabilizes the work because that shit ain’t urgency… it’s anxiety, irritating sister of depression and I don’t organize with that asshole on my committee.

There’s nothing like international work to crystallize the sorrow that is felt by people who are wholly dependent on your undesired military might to survive when they realize that the person making the calls on how that might is used is… well, our president.

So where am I at? What song am I trying to make out of the drummer who has been playing cut time for hours, the bassist with fingers that are bleeding, and piano player that hates them both a little bit because he wrote the music they are refusing to play?

I listen to Fleurette Africaine a lot now. Roach, Mingus and Ellington do something beautiful for about 3.5 minutes. They bring what they bring and then it moves on to something else. It is not perfect (probably, I’m no expert) but it makes me feel what I want to feel when folks are working together. The acknowledgement of all talents and fuckups drifting along a river together, inevitable and gorgeous. That kind of beauty strikes fear in hearts and conceives children in dark alleys…


I’ll leave it for you, along with an article about all of us.

Stay on rhythm, not on your last nerve… because while it is all critical, you still gotta figure out if it is urgent.

I love you.