The gold is abundant

This is the first desk job I have had. Being a High School and adjunct teacher, I have always shared my space with my students. Decorating my first office space is new territory for me. I thought this vase from IKEA was pretty cute. I brought it in and put it on the shelf. That’s what you do right?

Then, one day, when I was minding my own business, came the sound of ceramic rolling up against that fake wood. The sound stopped and there was a moment of silence before the crash. The noise of the crash attracted the attention of the fellows. I too looked down at my not-so-significant IKEA vase, now in many pieces on the ground. Savannah came right over and began collecting these pieces in a bag. I had already given up on it. I was sad, not for losing a vase, but because my first attempts to decorate an office were crashing to the ground. But Savannah wanted to revive it. They took it and mended it together with gold. You will have to ask them how, because it’s a skill I do not have.

When they brought it back many months later, to be frank, I had forgotten about it, and the act of kindness brought me to tears. As Savannah gave it to me and we admired their work, Kate pointed out where the vase must have landed, where the point of contact is. Fascinating to see the system of cracks and how they were influenced by one point of force. This vase now was stuck in the back corner of my mind for some time. The gold-lined vase now sits very close to me. Right next to my computer. I like to look at it. Not sure why exactly. Then the assignment to submit something for this zine came along, and this vase came dancing from the corner of my mind to the forefront.

Not only does this vase hold the act of kindness Savannah gave me, or the clever detail Kate paid attention to, but it holds the meaning of community care and love. Many times the work we do here highlights the pain of the world. The systemic cracks that seem to keep cracking. When I turn my head to the right, away from my computer screen, away from this pain, I see this vase. It reminds me to turn my head to the left as well, where I will see the fellow’s space, who tends to be buzzing about this or that. Whether they are laughing about what cartoon characters to smash or pass, or crying over heavy news of grief or pain, this community has been the gold to fill my cracks.

And the gold is abundant.

Take me to a place

Where I can watch the flowers Grow (and grow and grow)

Where roots intertwine Shared breath above the surface Grow (and grow and grow)