On Rebuilding | Typewriter Poems Series
Here’s what the first half of the new year looks like: the old world has crumbled, our disillusionments have shattered, what once was no longer is (or perhaps we have learned that it never truly was in the first place). And now, after the damage and desecration and disappointment, after the pain and suffering and loss, we sit in the ruined cities of our hearts, minds, bodies, and communities, and we howl at the moon: what now?
Here’s what we do: we rebuild – we build again. The word ‘again’ is important: hold onto it. Because ‘again’ means we’ve been here before, or somewhere close to it. But the past year has made us wiser: we tried, we failed or succeeded, we learned what worked and what didn’t. So we build again, but better this time. Stronger. More resilient. And in our calloused hands we carry a greater sense of purpose. And we’re not alone anymore: there are others carrying the same weight; there are others rebuilding, too.
So: the question is not ‘what will this new year bring us?’ The question is, instead, ‘what will we bring into this new year?’ What tools and beliefs and hopes and dreams and plans will we carry with us? And what will we leave behind?
The following poems are meditations on what it means to rebuild and on the relationships and communities that help us do it.