Thank you for writing this, and for calling out the particular cruelty to a community I'm part of. When the news about the autism registry came out, that was when I started to think, "Will I have to leave? Did I put a target on my back by getting formally diagnosed?" I've always felt that I would never leave, that I would use my position, education, and privilege to help people who didn't have the ability to leave; I guess I didn't expect to be in a category of undesirable people. Would being an autistic lawyer, public and visible, be more dangerous than being an autistic person without power and privilege? Those days, before the announcement that there would not actually be an autism registry, were surreal.
There were so many moments of beauty in this piece, and the other one I just read (I'm catching up on Substacks this morning—I think I'm falling behind because I'm outside so much) that I don't know what to focus on, so I'll stick with Harris Neck — I love that place! I've only been once but it stuck with me, the refuge, the place I stayed, and the Old School Diner.
Janisse, thank you for the sweet witness you are, for the heart that refuses to close. Your words call the readers back to our grief and our strength, our solidarity in facing what is happening. Your solid connection with the natural world will hold you steady. I want to share my most recent poem with you:
I've come back twice over the last week to read this again and again and should probably just print it all out so I can keep referring to it when I'm feeling overwhelemed. Or at least the "What I'm not doing/ What I'm doing" part - so good. xo
This is MY home. These are MY people. This is OUR country. I will not leave without a fight. I will not leave when I can no longer fight. They will not make me leave this place I’ve worked so hard to simply BE. I will not leave.
As a Canadian, with dual citizenship, I read your reflection with sadness but also with hope and a sense of solidarity. We, too, in our country, have felt much fear and deep concern. When DJT started spewing his hatred and condemnation and his desire to occupy Canada, all I could think of was to stay far, far away, to protect my own people and family, elbows up, consolidate and defend. How quickly that divide came upon us, how awful! I felt like I was being ripped in half.
Then I was sitting in my barn, the other day. I looked up at the rafters that would have seen so many conflicts, the war of 1812, the Boer War, the First World War, the Depression, the Second World War. People have taken horses and livestock in and out of that barn, since the early 1800’s. I looked towards our stone house that is still standing after many storms, political, personal and natural. I looked towards the sugar bush that is said to have been cultivated by our indigenous people, the Ardoch Algonquin, for thousands of years. The meeting of the rivers, in a hamlet near us, formed an area of council, where people on this land would have met and then travelled together to the meeting of other rivers, for further council. The rivers meet in what is now the capital of our country, Ottawa.
The rivers still run, the maples still stand tall, the birds have returned in our spring and continue to make that journey, every year, whatever life brings. People still meet, and clash and return. I think we have to root ourselves strongly in the soil of our ancestors but be willing to travel the rivers, to meet and to council. We can’t turn the other way as atrocities occur, we must, in our own way, support what is right and good. But we always have our home soil to come back to, to feel beneath our feet. The land will always be there, the birds will return, the rivers will run, the trees grow. As people, we are a spec on the landscape of time.
Thank you for writing this post, Janisse…it made me connect back to myself and feel deep empathy for what many Americans are experiencing, when all I hear on this side of the border, are the despicable words and actions of hateful men.
I consider myself to be part Canadian (I know that's taking some liberties with respect to nationality) My Grandmother's parents were from Ukraine and homesteaded out on the prairies in Saskatchewan. From time to time, I speak with a cousin living near Vancouver. During a recent phone conversation he mentioned shopping in a local grocery store and witnessing a customer returning an American product to the shelf after learning of the item's country of origin. He understands clearly that all Americans do not support the actions of 47 and DOGE.
The experience of what is happening on a national level reminds me of standing above the couplings that connect two passenger coaches on a train that is traveling at a high rate of speed. Not a good position to be in for any length of time if you're in contact with both cars at the same time . You know the train is headed toward a destination, yet your focus requires you to be grounded in the moment or you risk losing your balance. I look forward to the day when the experience of this administration will be a distant memory.
I can't believe we have come to this place where these things have to be thought about. I'm too old and don't have the money to go anywhere. I'm just going to keep growing as much of my own food as possible, buying from local growers, making as small an impact as I can upon this world, and helping my neighbors as much as I can.
Recently, a friend out in Baja California invited me to come stay with her for a while. I'm ambivalent about the idea. I have my passport with me. I'm not worried about whether I can cross into Mexico or whether I'll be safe where she lives. I'm worried about whether things will go seriously sideways afterwards and I won't be allowed to come back to the U.S.
Presently, I'm at Sean's ranch in Florida for a couple of weeks. I spent the first evening here talking about, reading, and even editing poetry with Sean. I hadn't known how much I missed the company of a poet! He's mentioned several times how lovely it was to visit your farm. You should see his ranch! It's paradise!
Josh, so great to hear from you! I'm really happy to know where you are. I have seen Sean's ranch, and it's a grand place. I've been trying to wrangle an invitation back (& a time to be able to do it), so hopefully I'll see it again in this life. Please give him my love.
I was very meticulous about growing heirlooms in the garden this year & now I know why. Hoss Tools, a small GA seed company, where we order a lot of hybrid seeds, just placed a regular seed order for $3K & due to tariff’s it was over $7K. Apparently a lot of our seeds come from China. Once the ripple effects hit the small businesses & us, it’s going to break us all.
Thank you, Janisse. You’ve written the most important reflection I’ve read. Not leaving is also my plan. See you in the woods & marshes & marches of Georgia.
Thanks for this herky-jerky ride on the roller coaster 🎢 of life right now, Janisse, a complex litany of obstinate love and gut-wrenching lament. 🕊️
I experience hearing “I love you too much” (demasiado) from our granddaughter as an intensification of her love, a way of communicating her deep feelings in the remarkable way Spanish provides.
The phrase teaches me that too much love is not possible 💝 and that too little makes a bigger difference. Thanks for loving most everything demasiado.
I don't want to be a " Pollyanna" regarding the current political climate in the US, at the same time I believe that the current Administration wants their opposition to be fearful and intimidated by the lightning fast changes that are occurring. 47's mode of influence is to use the stick, as opposed to using the carrot for motivation. Using the stick works in the short term for some people, until they come to the realization that tomorrow, they might become a target for not demonstrating unwavering loyalty to the leader wielding the stick.
I'm encouraged by the fact that support is slipping away for the policies implemented by our current POTUS. I chose to be informed, yet I'm limiting my exposure to the news. One of the best forms of solace for me, is to be in community with kindred spirits. Another comfort is to spend extended periods of time in a natural setting. Last week I hiked to an area that has the eastern-most population of native rhododendrons in North Carolina. I enjoyed the display of blooms that were a full 2 months earlier than in the high mountains.
A wise person once said that if he knew the world was ending tomorrow, he' d plant a tree. today. I'm reminded of that when I look at all the pear and apple trees that I grafted 6 weeks ago. Some of the seeds I've sown have sprouted in less than a week. We've had a spring full of beauty in many forms. I have reason to be hopeful. Fear has the potential to be contagious. I would like to believe that joy is more powerful and enduring than fear.
Thank you for writing this, and for calling out the particular cruelty to a community I'm part of. When the news about the autism registry came out, that was when I started to think, "Will I have to leave? Did I put a target on my back by getting formally diagnosed?" I've always felt that I would never leave, that I would use my position, education, and privilege to help people who didn't have the ability to leave; I guess I didn't expect to be in a category of undesirable people. Would being an autistic lawyer, public and visible, be more dangerous than being an autistic person without power and privilege? Those days, before the announcement that there would not actually be an autism registry, were surreal.
There were so many moments of beauty in this piece, and the other one I just read (I'm catching up on Substacks this morning—I think I'm falling behind because I'm outside so much) that I don't know what to focus on, so I'll stick with Harris Neck — I love that place! I've only been once but it stuck with me, the refuge, the place I stayed, and the Old School Diner.
Beautiful. Thank you for sharing all those stories of friends & beloveds.
Janisse, thank you for the sweet witness you are, for the heart that refuses to close. Your words call the readers back to our grief and our strength, our solidarity in facing what is happening. Your solid connection with the natural world will hold you steady. I want to share my most recent poem with you:
Tethered to This Planet
A friend who recently participated
in a San Pedro ceremony in the redwoods
found herself moving away from the cynical,
dismissive habits of our culture into a more
connected world where we belong to each other,
where it’s not foolish to be wholehearted,
where a new song of longing and grief and
power can be created and expressed,
where one’s need is heard and met,
where every aspect of the self can be honored
and loved, every living being in the woods
the subject of devotion.
Some say it’s just a chemical,
just a trick of the mind,
just an experience,
a meaningless dream,
but some say it’s medicine
for opening the doors
in the walls we’ve constructed
to protect our defenseless hearts
who can only love whatever they behold.
As the indigenous people have known
and conveyed, we are all in relation.
As the spiritual teachers have taught,
we are waves in one ocean.
As cosmology has shown us,
we are one life on one planet
in one solar system in one galaxy
in an immense cosmos.
Some of us simply cannot bloom
in the dry and austere atmosphere
created by the abstraction of isolated minds.
We need to be tethered to this planet
we are embedded in,
grounded in this ecosystem,
aware of this spider across the path
to remember this sacred chance
to participate in this intricate web
of life enhancing life.
2025/5/1
I've come back twice over the last week to read this again and again and should probably just print it all out so I can keep referring to it when I'm feeling overwhelemed. Or at least the "What I'm not doing/ What I'm doing" part - so good. xo
A heart is not enough acknowledgment for your comment. My thoughts & dreams are with you, Frinklepod. :)
This is MY home. These are MY people. This is OUR country. I will not leave without a fight. I will not leave when I can no longer fight. They will not make me leave this place I’ve worked so hard to simply BE. I will not leave.
As a Canadian, with dual citizenship, I read your reflection with sadness but also with hope and a sense of solidarity. We, too, in our country, have felt much fear and deep concern. When DJT started spewing his hatred and condemnation and his desire to occupy Canada, all I could think of was to stay far, far away, to protect my own people and family, elbows up, consolidate and defend. How quickly that divide came upon us, how awful! I felt like I was being ripped in half.
Then I was sitting in my barn, the other day. I looked up at the rafters that would have seen so many conflicts, the war of 1812, the Boer War, the First World War, the Depression, the Second World War. People have taken horses and livestock in and out of that barn, since the early 1800’s. I looked towards our stone house that is still standing after many storms, political, personal and natural. I looked towards the sugar bush that is said to have been cultivated by our indigenous people, the Ardoch Algonquin, for thousands of years. The meeting of the rivers, in a hamlet near us, formed an area of council, where people on this land would have met and then travelled together to the meeting of other rivers, for further council. The rivers meet in what is now the capital of our country, Ottawa.
The rivers still run, the maples still stand tall, the birds have returned in our spring and continue to make that journey, every year, whatever life brings. People still meet, and clash and return. I think we have to root ourselves strongly in the soil of our ancestors but be willing to travel the rivers, to meet and to council. We can’t turn the other way as atrocities occur, we must, in our own way, support what is right and good. But we always have our home soil to come back to, to feel beneath our feet. The land will always be there, the birds will return, the rivers will run, the trees grow. As people, we are a spec on the landscape of time.
Thank you for writing this post, Janisse…it made me connect back to myself and feel deep empathy for what many Americans are experiencing, when all I hear on this side of the border, are the despicable words and actions of hateful men.
I consider myself to be part Canadian (I know that's taking some liberties with respect to nationality) My Grandmother's parents were from Ukraine and homesteaded out on the prairies in Saskatchewan. From time to time, I speak with a cousin living near Vancouver. During a recent phone conversation he mentioned shopping in a local grocery store and witnessing a customer returning an American product to the shelf after learning of the item's country of origin. He understands clearly that all Americans do not support the actions of 47 and DOGE.
The experience of what is happening on a national level reminds me of standing above the couplings that connect two passenger coaches on a train that is traveling at a high rate of speed. Not a good position to be in for any length of time if you're in contact with both cars at the same time . You know the train is headed toward a destination, yet your focus requires you to be grounded in the moment or you risk losing your balance. I look forward to the day when the experience of this administration will be a distant memory.
I can't believe we have come to this place where these things have to be thought about. I'm too old and don't have the money to go anywhere. I'm just going to keep growing as much of my own food as possible, buying from local growers, making as small an impact as I can upon this world, and helping my neighbors as much as I can.
A new favorite post.
Recently, a friend out in Baja California invited me to come stay with her for a while. I'm ambivalent about the idea. I have my passport with me. I'm not worried about whether I can cross into Mexico or whether I'll be safe where she lives. I'm worried about whether things will go seriously sideways afterwards and I won't be allowed to come back to the U.S.
Presently, I'm at Sean's ranch in Florida for a couple of weeks. I spent the first evening here talking about, reading, and even editing poetry with Sean. I hadn't known how much I missed the company of a poet! He's mentioned several times how lovely it was to visit your farm. You should see his ranch! It's paradise!
Josh, so great to hear from you! I'm really happy to know where you are. I have seen Sean's ranch, and it's a grand place. I've been trying to wrangle an invitation back (& a time to be able to do it), so hopefully I'll see it again in this life. Please give him my love.
Will do! And I think Sean and Sharon will be glad to have you visit again!
Thank you for sharing this! Bruised apples still can nourish…
Love you!
I love how you extend that metaphor!!!
Amen. 💖
I was very meticulous about growing heirlooms in the garden this year & now I know why. Hoss Tools, a small GA seed company, where we order a lot of hybrid seeds, just placed a regular seed order for $3K & due to tariff’s it was over $7K. Apparently a lot of our seeds come from China. Once the ripple effects hit the small businesses & us, it’s going to break us all.
Whoa. Yes, it seems the ripple is coming.
Thank you, Janisse. You’ve written the most important reflection I’ve read. Not leaving is also my plan. See you in the woods & marshes & marches of Georgia.
Dear Susan, I can't wait to see you in all those places. All best to you & yours.
Janisse, you are just incredible in every way. So grateful for this writing and for you xx
Back at you, dear one.
Thanks for this herky-jerky ride on the roller coaster 🎢 of life right now, Janisse, a complex litany of obstinate love and gut-wrenching lament. 🕊️
I experience hearing “I love you too much” (demasiado) from our granddaughter as an intensification of her love, a way of communicating her deep feelings in the remarkable way Spanish provides.
The phrase teaches me that too much love is not possible 💝 and that too little makes a bigger difference. Thanks for loving most everything demasiado.
Demasiado!
I don't want to be a " Pollyanna" regarding the current political climate in the US, at the same time I believe that the current Administration wants their opposition to be fearful and intimidated by the lightning fast changes that are occurring. 47's mode of influence is to use the stick, as opposed to using the carrot for motivation. Using the stick works in the short term for some people, until they come to the realization that tomorrow, they might become a target for not demonstrating unwavering loyalty to the leader wielding the stick.
I'm encouraged by the fact that support is slipping away for the policies implemented by our current POTUS. I chose to be informed, yet I'm limiting my exposure to the news. One of the best forms of solace for me, is to be in community with kindred spirits. Another comfort is to spend extended periods of time in a natural setting. Last week I hiked to an area that has the eastern-most population of native rhododendrons in North Carolina. I enjoyed the display of blooms that were a full 2 months earlier than in the high mountains.
A wise person once said that if he knew the world was ending tomorrow, he' d plant a tree. today. I'm reminded of that when I look at all the pear and apple trees that I grafted 6 weeks ago. Some of the seeds I've sown have sprouted in less than a week. We've had a spring full of beauty in many forms. I have reason to be hopeful. Fear has the potential to be contagious. I would like to believe that joy is more powerful and enduring than fear.
Yours is a wise, metered response. Thank you, Greg. What you say is very important.