it cannot die

For most of human history the sky looked between 1-3, 4 at most. And then all of a sudden with electrification it was gone (I'm lucky if I get 6 in my small city). The first time I saw the Milky Way fully as a kid was a spiritual experience, I was almost scared on how BRIGHT it was, it felt like someone was looking back at me. You don't get that at all with modern light pollution.

because I teach meditation and this is 100% objectively true If you're in pain, especially chronic pain, you are already way too aware of your body. Doing a meditation that is focused on your body is the opposite of helpful, and especially body scan meditation (the one that starts with notice how your toes feel and moves up through the body). Any meditation that is about focusing on a single thing to the exclusion of everything else I call black spot meditation (my term, but it works)

There is a meditation that is all about leaving your body entirely and forget it exists, and I call it white spot (I promise there's a reason I name them that). White spot is what I was doing when I would ride my motorcycle. It's about trying to maintain as much awareness of the world around you and not yourself. It's like situational awareness turned up to eleven. And just like with black spot, this isn't going to be good for everyone or every situation

The problem is that far too many meditation teachers have learned a method or two that work for them, and try to teach that as the One True Way. There are very few things that the right meditation can't make easier, but it has to be the right meditation for what you're trying to improve

(meditation is complicated. Anyone who says it's simple is lying)

I started thinking about it before Amok Time aired.

In the summer of ‘67, watching the reruns of the first season, I very clearly remember a growing sense of, “They really love each other.” I did not jump to “they are in a romantic/sexual relationship,” but I was increasingly aware that there was love and devotion between them. I wrote a speculative essay about their platonic love in our summer fan club newsletter, which I remember being well-received.

With the start of Season 2, our whole fan club (and often others) watched the show together, at the house of the one person we knew with a color TV. The show was on Friday nights, so we would start the weekends by piling into her living room and watching “in living color” for the first time. Afterwords we would stay and discuss.

When Amok Time aired, we definitely had a lot to talk about. I am pretty sure no one suggested that they were gay – that would have been quite a scandalous suggestion at that time; and I don’t think I thought it myself.  But we did have quite a discussion about how much Jim was willing to sacrifice for Spock, Spock’s reaction to seeing Jim alive, and what did Spock mean by “having not so pleasing a thing after all as wanting…?”

Did Spock … want Jim?

Two camps formed: one believing that Spock was in love with Jim and was pining for him, the other believing no way! that’s ridiculous!

Single copies of “Spock pines for Jim” stories started appearing and being circulated hand-to-hand. Two other women and I were doing most of the writing in my circle of fan friends, and because distribution was so difficult, we started having Thursday night gatherings. Anyone could come and we would read the latest installments in our Spock-loves-Jim stories out loud to the group.

Sometime between the second and third season, my primary writing mentor – an established, published sci-fi writer who was much older than me – told me in private conversation that she thought their love was mutual, quite possibly physical, and that she thought their relationship was worth exploring in writing.

She and I each started working on long pieces exploring the Kirk/Spock relationship, and it was the first time I had seriously entertained the idea that their love was also physical. That was a very secret project. We only ever shared our work with each other for comment / revision, and never mentioned it to anyone else at the time.

The first time I realized that the K/S relationship – which was called “The Premise” in those days – was being explored by other writers and even artists was in the summer of ‘69. Star Trek had been cancelled and I went to another state to meet with a handful of people who were forming a fan network to try to get Star Trek back on air. While there, a fellow fan showed me a set of drawings, all very tame by today’s standards, that depicted a physical relationship between Jim and Spock.  I remember how shocked I was — not by the subject matter, but by the fact that someone had dared depict it.

How happy someone was with it wasn’t important - it was considered a disease. Anyone who was happy being gay was considered to ill to realize how damaged they were.

Claiming that Kirk and Spock might have those feelings for each other was a hard clash against mainstream psychology. It was a very controversial opinion, because it meant not only looking at the series and saying, “I’m seeing a relationship that I’m pretty sure the writers didn’t consciously intend,” but also, “oh, and the entire AMA and the combined wisdom of its doctors are clueless about how human relationships work.”

I’d like to add a bit more historical context myself. Until the 1970s, years after TOS had finished its run, sodomy was a felony in 49 out of 50 states of the US – a felony which was punishable by prison or death. Throughout the 60s and into the 70s, I can remember reading carefully-worded news stories about gay men being arrested and given decades-long prison sentences.

For being gay.

Think about this for a moment. When TOS was on the air, not only was a white man kissing a Black woman a crime in a third of the country – but one man in a consensual, loving sexual relationship with other was committing a crime so serious he could be imprisoned or killed in every state but one.

I’ve seen tags from people and received questions about why Spock and Kirk were not allowed to be out on TV, since they were so clearly in love.  This was not remotely possible at that time. The average American understood a man who loved another man to be mentally ill and his behavior to be criminal.

@elfwreck put it beautifully above: “Believing that two people of the same sex could have a healthy, loving relationship was an act of defiance all on its own.”

This is why we don’t take kindly to “fiction reflects your personal morality” very kindly ‘round these parts. Because THIS sort of thing is what it leads to.

In the early years of writing slash, one had to be very, very careful about who knew you read or wrote such material. Women and men both went to jail for violating obscenity laws. Just letting people know you entertained the idea of “The Premise” of K/S love could (and did) have people openly questioning your mental health, your morality, your character, your ability to do your job, and the safety of children in your presence. I know a woman who lost all rights to visit her own children in a divorce, when the court found out she had K/S slash material in her home.