Dreams on the Dance Floor
What I've been thinking about
I've been contemplating the definition of a good person—a question one can truly answer only for themselves, really. Like asking about the meaning of life, or knowing if you've done enough. It's one of those fundamental questions that stays with you.
I've asked several people what being a good person means to them, and more often than not, the answer is something like, "I don't do anything evil." That response has never quite satisfied me. "I don't do anything evil" doesn't really mean good, does it? It just means the absence of bad. These ideas are very much conflated in so many areas of our lives. The absence of one thing doesn't guarantee the presence of its opposite.
Over the past couple of years, I've met some truly fantastic people—people with so much goodness, really overflowing. They actively try to understand the ways they might be falling short, course correct when needed, and genuinely understand what it takes to be a good person.
One more thing I've come to learn: the evil forces that do exist on this planet don't seek our permission to carry out their deeds. But they absolutely count on our silence. Very much so.
What I've been reading
I've been reading "I Who Have Never Known Men" by Virginie Despentes and "Free Food for Millionaires" by Min Jin Lee—still early with both to form any real opinions.
I did get to see Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha and Kai Cheng Thom at a book launch recently. It was so surreal to see them in person. Both authors bring such important perspectives to contemporary literature—Leah Lakshmi with her groundbreaking work in disability justice and body liberation, particularly through her book 'The Future is Disabled,' which explores disability as a revolutionary force for imagining new ways of being and resisting ableism, alongside Kai Cheng Thom with their exploration of disability, and the radical act of falling in love with being human in a world that often tries to disable our future.
What I want you to know
Remember I told you about the flash mob I want to make happen? Well, it's happening! More details here.
I'm particularly excited about this project because it represents a small act of public joy and connection—something we all need more of these days. The Macarena, with its simple, universal dance moves, creates an opportunity for strangers to come together in spontaneous celebration. It's about reclaiming public space with happiness and reminding each other that even in complex times, we can find moments of pure, unscripted joy.
If this resonated:
Buy me a coffee ☕️