washing dishes, saving the world, poetry
"being human right now is like
living in a group home for heartbreak
where nobody does the dishes
but everyone writes poetry about the mess"
Christopher Sexton
And indeed.
But I still think it means there’s hope.
Of course, it would be much better if we did the dishes AND wrote poems too…
…but as long as at least a few of us are writing poems
(=drawing, dancing, making music, filming, singing — in other words: creating),
then not everything is lost.
And if right now you’re thinking:
“The world is in flames, who cares if I’m doing art here…” — I get it.
When I see the posts of my Israeli peace activist and 5Rhythms teacher friend, Adi Argov,
and I’m reminded that people are starving in Gaza (just to name one thing),
then writing, taking photos, or making music mixes feels like a completely useless luxury.
Until I get a message from her:
“Kata, I need your help. Here in the middle of the bombings I’m trying to do what I can for myself and my dance community — with grounding music and daily practice — to calm our nervous systems. I need long, moving, but grounding tracks. I love your music choices — can you recommend a few songs?”
So it seems we need activism, and we need art too.
And I can already hear it:
“Why write poems if AI can write something better in a few seconds…?”
Last Saturday in Kapolcs, I heard this Quimby song again for the umpteenth time:
“I don’t make music anymore, / I just send a signal to the machine:
let it show instead of me / how the soul moves within me.”
Well, if even the art is made by AI instead of us,
then we really are in trouble.
Because when I talk about art, I’m not referring to the privilege of the talented or the great artists.
I’m talking about creation — creative self-expression — that belongs to everyone.
Where it doesn’t matter if someone else makes something better or more beautiful —
because it’s not the product that matters, but the process.
Creating gives us back our sense of agency in a world
where we otherwise don’t have much control in our hands.
In the choice of what sound I play, what line I draw, what words I write, what step I take on the dance floor in the next moment — I can experience total freedom.
I create the dance, the music, the drawing, the text — moment by moment.
I’m present, I surrender to the process — I’m making love with life itself.
To create is an act of courage.
When the whole world is competing for our attention and profiting from our scattered minds,
to zoom into our own microcosm
and give our attention to a creative process —
that is rebellion.
That’s why I invite you to dance — check the calendar for the next opportunities.
