I Sat Down To Script A Podcast And A Poem For The Fire Leaked Out
For the Worldbuilders Ep. 068
Dear Worldbuilder,
Last Thursday, I had my weekly date with desire. I sat down to channel a dispatch. I sat down to allow whatever wanted to come through, permission to surface while trusting that it would be more than enough. The usual. Last Thursday, I sat down to script a podcast episode and a poem leaked out instead:
A poem for the fire
when sitting down to script this episode there was a moment of healing where I realized in the rush of the morning that, “I wish I sitting down to write”. in between laundry, emails and my workout class I looked out the window at snow from my roof top glittering the blue sky invited by the wind. i looked out the window and realized i wanted to sit down and write, so i did, and started crying. invited by the wind not the same kind but a cousin to the wind picking up wildfires and slinging them across california at the rate of 5 football fields a minute, or something like that. we are a country that measures in football fields and genocides — of course the earth has the right to peel us off her back like a scab. of course the planet has every right to fight back. now our question is: will we fight with her or against her? i am writing as i am crying this love letter. i want us to live. i want us to live. i want us to live, but only if we want it too.
You can hear me recite this poem in this week’s podcast episode. Inside this episode we also explore how solidarity has the capacity to hold critique and care, simultaneously. We can critique racial capitalism and the prison industrial complex at work while grieving with our LA kin and creative community.
The black feminist tradition has taught us how to walk and chew gum for no other reason than, we must.
Before Thursday, I originally sat down to script a podcast episode, advocating for the practice of weekly dispatches for seeding, deepening and returning to a creative practice.
I originally sat down to script a podcast episode — during a time where our labor and time is siphoned by capitalism — in order to advocate for weekly dispatches as a container for stealing time away from the master’s clock1.
I originally sat down to script a podcast episode, about how weekly dispatches are evidence of “love out loud” that we often give away for free because we are getting fed as the work satiates others too.
I originally sat down to script a podcast episode, about how weekly dispatches give us soothing structures and deep permission to feel what we might be suppressing.
And guess what happened, a poem that allowed me to do exactly that, embody that, feel that, practice that showed up in its place.
Instead of simply talking about the entanglement of grief and desire, I allowed myself to feel it — and I hope you feel it too.
My intention behind this episode is not only to advocate for the practice of weekly dispatches but to encourage you and empower you with resources to advocate for your song — aka the work that is uniquely yours. Philadelphia-based prison abolitionist Stephanie Keene says people often ask her, “How can I get involved?” Her response is, “Do what it is you're good at”. Right? WE need you inside what you’re good at, which is to say YOU need you inside what you’re good at. What is your daily, weekly, seasonal practice for showing up inside the chorus of collective liberation? Let’s find out together.
Tune into the 68th episode “I Sat Down To Script A Podcast And A Poem For The Fire Leaked Out” on the podcast For the Worldbuilders via Spotify or Apple Podcast.
“Each of us is called on to put our hand to the plow and do the work that is ours, a saying commonly passed down among Black women. Indeed, many of the world-changers we'll learn from in the pages ahead literally till and seed the soil. Philadelphia-based prison abolitionist Stephanie Keene says people often ask her, “How can I get involved?” Her response is, “‘Do what it is you're good at’ — that is, if your thing is data, figure out how to contribute those skills to a cause. If you're a writer, lend your words to the struggle. If you're good at cooking, feed the people. Revolutionaries certainly need full bellies to keep up the fight. I say this to emphasize everyone isn't skilled at the same things, and the work wouldn't be dynamic or sustainable if we were. We each can and should offer our particular skills to the collective pursuit of liberty and justice for all.” So, hand to the plow, where is your plot?”
— Ruha Benjamin, Viral Justice: How We Grow the World We Want (pg. 22), 2022
Where is your plot? What is your song?
Where is your Zone of Desire? Your site of practice.
What are the creative dispatches and offers that allow you to return to this sacred site on a daily, weekly, monthly, seasonal basis?
If you’re curious about locating, seeding and stewarding the work that is uniquely yours I want to invite you to join us for Seeda School’s 4-Part Winter Worldbuilding Workshop Series which kicks off tomorrow, January 14th at 12pm EST.
You’ll also receive your own copy of Seeda School’s Winter 2025 Syllabus in your workshop registration confirmation email. Enrollment into the Treehouse opens today and the workshop series is the best place to learn more about all the support for seeding and funding a creative practice offered inside.
See you there?
Rasheedah Phillips is a queer housing advocate, lawyer, parent, interdisciplinary artist working through a Black futurist lens and author of Dismantling the Master's Clock: On Race, Space, and Time (available for pre-order).