Why I Write

I started to write this newsletter about Elon Musk, Peter Thiel and the rest of the 2025 gang who truly believe they are better than the teeming masses and therefore should have the power to decide which groups are worthy and which groups are cogs. It was going to be about how easy it is to enter into a state of entitlement and how difficult it is to awaken from this sense of deep separation. I know this because I too suffered from this disease. I didn’t have it as bad as some but even my less virulent state of entitlement was difficult to admit to and a devil to unwind. So instead of writing about the problem of deeply engrained entitlement I’d like to share a poem I wrote a few years ago about my process out of that delusion.

Why I Write

Because they didn’t tell me

That immersing my hands in warm soapy water

to clean a dish is deeply sensual,

That when you’re pregnant

you become a blue-green fertile globe-

When you give birth

You become the Universe exploding into form-

That you fall in love with your child,

That well-cooked pain and grief

Becomes compassion,

That menial labor

Becomes a dance.

Because they forgot to mention

That, yes, your aging body loses tone and memory,

But it contains within it a child’s wonder

And a teenager’s lack of patience with bullshit

That you’ve accumulated more in your coffers to offer,

That your heart has broken so many times

The bones just seem to set themselves.

I write because the seasons

Are so much more delightful than anything I can purchase,

The Earth is so much more alive then I realized

when it was freely given to me at birth,

That awakening is possible in each moment,

No special conditions necessary.