You know leaders aren’t doing anything to protect us when they won’t even protect themselves.
“In an unlikely loss of cabin pressure, panels will open with oxygen masks. Be sure to tear yours off first, never put it on, and cough all over your neighbor as we crash.”
There are times when we have to say no to what is being asked of us, even if it’s good and important, in order to say yes to the most central calling we have.
We have to protect it, not only because it’s important to us, but because it might be the most important role we play in community.
We can’t say yes to everything. We are limited people.
Sometimes, we have to say no so we can keep saying yes.
I find the Social Change Ecosystem framework by Deepa Iyer to be very helpful. You can engage it in the images below.
For a long time in movement work, I kept putting myself in the roles I thought I should be in — with an extremely narrow of view of what roles were needed/necessary. These roles didn’t jive with my body or my skillsets, so my continual effort to put myself there not only flattened me but also canceled my ability to be and do the roles I was skilled and called to do.
What I’m saying is this —
Support all of these roles. They’re all needed. And sometimes, yes, we need to share the load of the most challenging ones. But we can hunker down in the primary one where we best fit, and be all-in there.
You can do movement work *as you.*
We partner our skills, talents, and roles so that they build something bigger than any one of us alone.
Also, I’m a few of these things, but primarily, a Caregiver and a Weaver. How about you?
We must condemn white supremacy. It’s evil, and it always takes the form of violence.
We must condemn white supremacy with our words, yes. But we must also look inward and work to shift the narratives of white supremacy that we have absorbed and internalized. And we must act to dismantle the systemic forms of white supremacy throughout our society.
The President should do the same.
I’m doing pretty well overall, but when the sun starts to set with increasingly cooler evenings, I occasionally notice some irritability too. Largely hunkered down in my house since March, I know that winter is coming soon. This means that the hunkering will become more persistent.
These days, I take walks frequently, and I have a hearty squad of people who call. My mood is largely and perhaps surprisingly, light. I have remained my typical authentic, resilient self throughout more than 200 days of this. But I know there are many more days to come. Perhaps another year.
Yesterday, as the sun set, I experienced that cooler air, but I felt more sad than irritable. It seems like we’ve resigned ourselves to the the coronavirus. Maybe not altogether — lots of people are taking precautions — but we don’t have a collective strategy. And it seems like a lot of us are okay with that. Many people in national and local power are totally okay with that.
As for individuals, maybe we’ll take safety measures personally… Maybe we won’t… Maybe… we’ll cut just a few corners…
But without a collective strategy, this virus continues to spread, and it seems like many people and communities have resigned themselves to the reality that this will pass through the entire population at large. This surrender isn’t just a first wave, second wave, or third wave. This is like doing the wave at a baseball game. COVID-19 keeps moving through our population bit by bit. As of this date, 205,654 people have died, and 7.2 million cases have been reported. While many recover, this virus is only half a year old, and some are now reporting chronic illness impacting their hearts, lungs, and neurological systems months after contracting the virus. In addition to a continual wave of death averaging at about 1000 people per day, this ever-moving virus causes chronic illness and disability in large numbers too.
And six months in, it seems we want to believe the fantasy that things are better, or at least a little better, simply because we’ve taken some time away from our typical routines. But besides knowing that masks work, we really aren’t in a different position than we were in March. We’re just tired of it.
So I see churches opening, universities opening, restaurants opening, and political rallies opening. Today, the state government in Florida declared that restaurants, bars, gyms, theme parks, sporting events, retail stories, vacation rentals, concert halls, and auditoriums can all open at full capacity.
We are largely in the same position we were in March.
And because we won’t set a collective strategy to deal with a collective problem, we are largely in the same position we were in March. We don’t have to be, but we are. Unless we want a pandemic to run a continual wave of disruption, disability, and death throughout our population, we have to have a collective strategy.
It seems like we don’t have the will.
Many individuals do not, and certainly, many in power do not. When those power brokers don’t have the will or the care, many others don’t have a choice. Workers must show up for their bosses. Students must show up for their university administrations. Healthcare workers must show up, and some develop PTSD. Incarcerated people are exposed en masse with no freedom of movement. Disabled people must stay home to protect themselves from the population at large.
We want freedom and choices, but without a collective strategy, most of us have diminished freedom and choices. And disruption, disability, and death continue to move through our population.
I’m not a person without hope, but I want to name this. I will keep hunkering down in my house for a continual, ongoing stretch of time that boggles my mind. But I do have the privilege and ability to choose to protect myself this way.
Many do not.
Without a collective strategy, many will lose freedom and choice.
And so I take to heart these challenging words from The Testament, Margaret Atwood’s sequel to The Handmaid’s Tale. They are a painful parody of Robert Frost:
“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and I took the one most travelled by. It was littered with corpses, as such roads are. But as you will have noticed, my own corpse is not among them.”
This doesn’t have to be our reality.
And it lived in the house. Like, with the family.
And that is quite literally all I know about it. I simultaneously wish I knew more and am glad that I do not.
But I can’t resist that as a title. It’s just too good.
Over The Weekend, I Learned My Great-Grandmother Had a Pet Squirrel Named Corky.
It will remain a weird mystery.
Today, I’d like to share this video from Dr. Nicole LePera, who goes by The Holistic Psychologist on social media. I highly recommend her Facebook and Instagram accounts as well as her YouTube Channel.
She asks, “Do you have trauma brain?” Here are some signs she mentions:
1) Obsessive desire to be chosen by others without any awareness about how you and your body feel about the connection
2) Chronic social anxiety
3) Need for consistent distraction
4) Ego states of self-judgment and comparison
5) Lack of trust that leads to procrastination, self-sabotage, and shame cycles
If you notice any connections or resonance with these, be kind to yourself, know you’re not alone, and know that you can find help for these.
Captions are available when viewing from YouTube.
Sometimes, I find hope here…
There’s enough.
There’s enough, and in fact, more than enough to have substantive change in this world. There are enough varied skills, talents, positions, forms of action, sources for inspiration and imagination, and resources.
What feels scary in this time is that harmful forces are organizing and becoming more entrenched in their power. So more is likely required of us in our skills, talents, positions, forms of action, sources for inspiration and imagination, and resources.
But there’s enough. There’s always been enough.
There’s still more of us and more of these than is needed to enact and build substantial change.
Is there will?
Any Place
and
Any Moment
can be
the Space
and
the Time
of
Revelation
and
Awareness.
Any single place and any single moment can open us to understanding and connection.
I’ve been learning a bit from Thomas Merton lately. Merton (1915-1968) was a Monastic Christian who lived in Kentucky. I love a particular both/and in his personal faith: He was a mystic, yet not at all removed from the world. He delved into some of the largest challenges and traumas that humanity has faced. He was a practical theologian and a humanitarian, grounded deeply in a sense of mystical communion with God and other people.
These two aspects of Merton’s faith really came together when he was simply standing at an intersection. He was standing on the corner of 4th and Walnut (now Muhammad Ali Blvd.) in Louisville, Kentucky. As he watched people walk by, he was suddenly overcome with a deep sense of connection. He said he was, “suddenly overcome with the realization that I loved all these people. . .” as they “walked around shining like the sun.”
It changed his whole life.
He probably wasn’t expecting that when he was out running some errands. But any place and any moment can introduce us to a revelation of understanding and connection. Any place and any moment.
When in Louisville a few years ago, I went to this corner. It’s really fitting because there’s still a great deal of foot traffic. There is a placard that commemorates this place and moment, and right behind it, is 4th Street Live — two city blocks typically blocked off for foot traffic with restaurants, and often, live music.
I snapped a photo of this place. I also stood there and remembered people I know as well. It was a meaningful experience.
And it was a good reminder.
Any Place
and
Any Moment
can open us for
Understanding
and
Connection.
Any single one at all.
