We left California today. About three hours into our drive, we crossed into Arizona. Borders are arbitrary, especially in this part of the world, where Indigenous peoples made their homes in vast landscapes, often migrating with the seasons and their sources of food. Nevertheless, we crossed into a state whose Latin motto, Ditat Deus (God Enriches) bulldozes over the fact that almost three hundred thousand Native American peoples live here, speaking more than a dozen Indigenous languages. We made a pit stop in Dateland, where we bought a date shake and a bag of honey dates to give as a gift to our friends in Tucson, pointedly ignoring the bedazzled Trump hats and obnoxious bumper stickers.
It was helpful to listen to Krista Tippett’s interview with Ocean Vuong and to be reminded that our the words we use have the power to shape the world for better or for worse. The future is in your mouth is how he said it. As soon as we got back in the car, I replaced the FUCK YOU in my head with Wow, look at all the magical saguaros and the purple flowers whizzing by. Look at all this unexpected beauty.
I know that I have the ability to frame this unknown future I’m driving toward. I want to choose the words I use carefully. I want to talk about hope and adventure and opportunity rather than focusing on words like loneliness and fucking-freezing. I don’t want to gloss over everything that’s hard about this moment or broken in this world. But I do believe it’s important to speak hope and wonder into existence.
Anyway, another day, another visit with a beloved friend. After staying near San Diego for one night with Jessica—the first friend I made in New York, where we were both interns at Ms. Magazine—we are spending tonight with Tali, who left the Bay Area about eight months before us and is now living in a GORGEOUS home in Tucson. We walked the dog, chased the sunset, ate a delicious dinner out with her daughter, talked about life, the good and bad. After bedtime, we’ll talk some more.
Saguaros, Tali explained as we stood at the Gates Pass viewpoint looking out at the darkening Sonoran Desert, expand and contract depending on how much water is in the soil. How amazing.
Life contracts, then it expands. Over and over and over.
There is so much to learn, so much to see, so much to be curious about. There is so much I’ll never know. Oh to be mysterious and humble. Oh, to be like a saguaro.

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