Jesse Danger

When we look at a tree, contorted by its unmet needs we don’t often imagine all the ways we could fix it. This is as much about humanizing a tree as it is about treeanizing a human.

Full post on toloveonetrue.com

Full article on toloveonetrue.com

I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember. I started this project at twenty one, in the wake of a devastating breakup. To Love One True was born from that time, from the part of me that was learning to keep going when I had all but given up.

The Movement Creative came from the same place.
While movement has always been such a large part of my identity, this has been humming along in the background, and more recently the two have inextricably converged into something that feels like me.

Movement has become more often a place for reflection. And writing has become more often a way to navigate the obstacles in my mental landscape.

This poem is about revisioning a broken promise. About how “forever,” said in one moment, can feel like a nuisance, and in another, can break your heart.

When I moved up to .hem I had no idea how I was going to make it work. To be honest, I still don’t.

I had a fantasy that I could sell my writing, so I submitted to a publisher. They said it seemed like deeply personal writing, better shared within my circle, and that it would not be appropriate for the mainstream market.

It stung. And yet it didn’t stop me from continuing to write deeply personal things and share them within my circle.

I write the words that are the medicine I need, and I can’t shake the feeling that they might be medicine for others too.

www.toloveonetrue.com

A winter at .hem . Some pictures by and . Some vibes by the wonderful people who have supported this project so far by coming to events and by changing the shape, physically mentally and socially of the space up here.

This morning I was up at 6 to clear last night’s snow. I made some coffee, and started the sauna. I was in the place beyond choice - a loving obligation.

I haven’t posted much because I am afraid I will not be met or known in these changes.I haven’t gone to as many jams, I haven’t trained as much “parkour”. In the past year I’ve had a major surgery, learned to work a tractor, a chainsaw, and have chopped more wood than in the rest of my life. I’ve fixed plumbing and electric and painted.

I have done what is perhaps the healthiest thing I ever have - I have put myself in a place where movement is required in a tangible way. I learned a long time ago that we could be strong to be useful and it took some mental gymnastics to realize that it may go equally well to be useful to be strong.

What I keep realizing is that doing new movement things, with friends, never ceases to make me feel more alive. What I’ve craved is the timeless nature of not only the training sessions of old, but of the work I did as a mover in my teens and early twenties. Happening in tandem was a drive to do until it was done, not a choice or consideration, not a judgment or a need, an easy resting into resilience.

“Parkour” has as a collective definition gotten further from me, the brilliance that I see on this app and in the NY community never ceases to amaze me. I still crave that. And deeper than that, my identity, once called parkour, and maybe by any other name - has more than ever become centered on embracing challenge, learning new things, and building community.

As my fears in the world seem to become only more realized, as does my conviction that getting people together outside doing something new and challenging and interesting, is a glue that binds me deeply to my existence and equally a glue that binds community together.

We laid to rest one of my best friends this past weekend. Bella was an extraordinary being who’s spark of life helped me to see mine, who’s love of movement pushed me towards my passion, who’s compassion, tolerance, and joy helped to shape who I am.

I am lucky to be one of her humans. She is one of my greatest teachers.

I know I will keep missing her dearly, and I know that her guidance in my life will continue.

For years she was my emissary, a welcoming energy I didn’t know how to have, with a kind paw she taught me. For years she was a gentle nudge of a nuzzle to eat, sleep and move. For years she was a soft dog ear, always there for me with a gentle kindness.

For years she was a mischievous spark, ready to wrestle or chase or be chased, ready to scheme her way into the fridge. When she stayed at my mom’s house she could get the cats to knock the bread off the top shelf so she could feast.

I am lucky to love Bella and have her love me. That love has been shaping me since the day we met. Her love will continue to shape who I become for the rest of my days.

Yesterday with these beautiful souls I reverse crawled the number of stairs in the empire state building and climbed the distance around. An impossible task overcome in an eight hour meditation on effort. There are lessons for us waiting at the edge of our physical and mental limit.

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