#memory

In a previous meditation I wrote about feast days, apostles, and the election of a slug of the month — about how a community of slow things invents its own calendar, its own saints, its own small ceremonies.

In a previous meditation I wrote about the Święte miejsce- ślimaczy tunel — the holy place that is a snail's tunnel, a passage worn not by decision but by repetition. I said the tunnel is sacred because

In a previous meditation — Ślimaczyzm - pierwszy post — I tried to name a way of moving through the world that does not apologize for its pace. I called it a religion of the slow, and I left it there,

This is where I had my dinner last night. At a coffee shop that sells beer and cider. Yes... a coffee shop that sells beer and cider. I was at an airport, traveling to Cape Town to see my children. I love

Greetings, beautiful community! I hope you are all doing very well. 🤗 They say that in Venezuela, every child is born with an arepa under their arm. It’s a very popular saying because, in our country,

In a previous meditation — Ślimaczyzm - pierwszy post — I said that a snail does not ask the ground for permission to move. I want to return to that sentence now, because I think I was only half right.

The trail does not widen because the slug decides to widen it. The trail widens because the slug keeps moving, and the world keeps offering more surface to cross. Version 7 of any canon is not a rewrite.