November

🍂 choosing

Dear one,

A year ago today I left my beloved México for the US. I did not want to return. I immigrated in 2021 because I didn’t want to live in empire as it crumbled. I wanted to thrive and co-create “the more beautiful world our hearts know is possible” and was intent on getting to a place where I could live that. So it’s been a big surprise that for me—for now—that place is a farm in central North Carolina.

Each day I get to tend the land with a community of people who are committed to living the new story. Committed to being the change they wish for. Committed to co-creating a more beautiful world.

It’s hard and messy. Summer is brutal, chiggers are the worst, and everything that exists in the macrocosm of our unwell culture also exists in the microcosm of this well-intentioned community. (Which is true of us all.) There are days I want nothing to do with any of it. But I love people here and what’s alive in this is precious.

I have no happily ever after story to offer—about our country, the world, or my life. Each day is a dance of grief, love, anger, and gratitude. Ratios vary. But that is what it is to be alive and we’re doing it together. Which is no small thing.

I’ve come to know there is power in what we choose to commit to. Last fall I dropped into a a deep dark that I barely survived. I was in shock and grief, unmoored and spinning. But with what little will I had in me, I chose—life, love, truth, and to stay for my daughter. And then I was supported through what it took to recover and heal. So here we are.

Nothing about this year has been easy but so much of it has been beautiful. Astonishing grace. I have good friends, a wise mentor, and the earth is good medicine. As bewildered as I often feel to be in these times, in this country, and in a new place, it’s not lost on me that I am now living what I left the US three years ago to find.

I can’t help but wonder now what beauty and astonishing grace we might find if we truly choose each other.

Thanks for being in this life,
Kai

my morning walk

🎶 I believe poetry is a song that is meant to be heard as well as read. A poem is a journey for the senses as well as the mind. I invite you to sit back and experience me reading this one to you. You can listen here:

November

We don’t know how
this story turns out
but the weight of it
is here now.
There’s not much I know
but there is this—

i.
The leaves are falling
in fluttering flurries
to the forest floor
and the slanting of the sun 
has everything sparkling.
The world breathes
and we can breathe 
with her.

ii.
Emotions are to be felt.
Grief, rage, fear, disgust—
they all have their place
and ask this of us.

iii.

Individualism kills.
It brought us here
and will not get us out.
The way forward is together.
There are no saviors.
We must take care 
of each other.

iv.
The choices we make
in the depths of dark
are the ones
that matter most.
When you remember your life
you notice this.
In the crucible
transformation unfolds.

v.
It’s time now
for our real choice.

I choose us.
I’m voting for you.
The fullness of you.
We have much to do.

—Kai Madrone

November 10, 2024

Full Table CSA at Common Ground ~ tithonia harvest, farmers market, carrot cuddles