SHATTERED!

 

As much as I wanted to stay oblivious, secure, and in my cocoon, the despicable, brutal and callous murder of George Floyd changed all of that in 8 minutes and 46 seconds. I felt my heart stop and my breath quicken and my soul shatter into a billion pieces, as I sat in absolute horror, fear, fury, and despair as a human being was killed before my eyes, before our very eyes.

My mind refused to accept the cowardly, despicable, inhumane, dispassionate, and racist, hate filled act of a human being pressing a knee onto a man’s neck until his life was extinguished.  I sat immobile, tears streaming down my face, dripping endlessly onto my chest soaking my shirt, heart  wrenching sobs escaped without warning, I couldn’t absorb what my eyes were seeing and I felt like I couldn’t breathe.  When Mr. Floyd, was begging for air… Air!…. and grasping, pleading to live, breathlessly, mournfully, tragically called out for his mother, I doubled over in horror and pain, clutching my stomach, ….and I wept. I felt the pain a mother feels when her child so desperately needs her and she is not there. How could this happen? In public! With no one intervening? Where were the police? How could this be a police officer who is sworn an oath to protect and serve? Why couldn’t anyone stop this person from executing a man before our very eyes? Again?! Still!! 

The cocoon I had erected around myself and my family, shattered into a billion pieces. My false sense of security and safety was violently, and indiscrimantly stripped away. I was catapulted, tumbling into a world filled with hate, racial injustice, and violence, again. A world that unfortunately, never seems far away. Racial hatred is always bubbling just under the surface, now it is erupting all over our country once again, stoked and encouraged. The embers have never died down and with the cold blooded murder of Mr. Floyd, I was reminded that no matter how far we have come, the road is still long and steep. Frankly, it’s exhausting, tiring to the bone, to be here again, in my lifetime and in my children’s lifetime. To have to reiterate the demands of my ancestors, to gain liberty, equality,  justice, and freedom for all, wears on the soul. 

Words, creativity, faith, and optimism abruptly faded away into the background. I was swept further backwards on the current of racial inequality, violence, and fear. My thoughts became jumbled and the respite I had struggled to create for my family, amidst another frightening and daunting challenge; this pandemic, became bleak, isolating, and fear-filled, dark began to swallow me up. I stopped believing in the good of my fellow Americans. I felt hopeless, tired, angry, helpless, and demoralized. Hate was winning.

I started to breathe anxiety, anger, and despair through my pores. I found my breath jagged and shallow, my heart rate banging in my chest with fury, sorrow, and pain. I couldn’t sleep and the drum beat of race baiting and the fire of hatred kept growing ever bigger, obliterating the light and breeding and igniting fear. Helplessness, hopelessness, and hardship were the salty taste of the tears I wept endlessly, as I tried to provide my children with the tools to live through an ill-fated encounter with a racist officer of the law who might be capable of such a heinous act. At the same time fighting to instill in them the belief that most police officers take an oath to protect their citizens and the communities they serve with dedication and respect for all. Trying to find the balance and the faith to believe the words I speak, the prayers I pray, the faith I surround them with, that will hopefully keep them alive and safe from hate and harm.

Even as I write this, I know it’s a fable and an untruth that I speak in a desperate hope but no longer with the utmost conviction. Knowing all the while, as I sit here sharing my thoughts, it is nothing but a fervent, mournful prayer that all mothers and fathers of children of color make each and every day before sending our beloved children out to face the world. Sometimes, like with George Floyd, we know it might not even matter.  That even as we have raised our children well, that the color of their skin may ignite a racist officer to deny them their very right to breathe until they breathe no more. My body quakes with the uncertainty, fear, and unfairness of the burden I lay at their feet. It is not a burden they should have to bear. No one should have to bear it! 

Even having to accept this unseemly and contradictory reality,  I along with all loving parents of children of color, Latino, Asian, Native American’s,  and LGBTQ, know this is no shield against racism. Mr. Floyd’s murder was a stark and vivid reminder of their/our continued vulnerability. Still we pray, organize, galvanize, and continue to prioritize the need for the peaceful protests to continue so that our children may know safety, security, freedom, and justice for all…someday. That the content of their character may someday outweigh prejudices of those who loathe the color of their skin.

Finding my equilibrium, my sense of optimism, creativity, and faith…has been a herculean task. I fumbled, unsure and unaccustomed to being so unmoored by the destruction of my country, that I love so much. I have been struggling to find a sense of the future where I feel safe, where my children are safe, and that is familiar to me. Where manners, tolerance,  respect, and civility, at least have a prominent place at our societal table.

When the protesters started and continued to march for George Floyd, for justice reform, for the equality  and safety our mothers, brothers, sisters, and friends, I was able to steady my heartbeat and take a deep restorative breath. Once again, as is our history’s not so distant past, people of all colors rose up to demand that police brutality, profiling, redlining, gerrymandering, and the indiscriminate killing of black people, people who are different, would no longer be tolerated. Having witnessed collectively unwaveringly, and tramatically, the murder of Mr. Floyd, we as a peaceful and law abiding society could no longer deny that the targeting, terrorizing, and murdering of black people by police officers, could not, would not be accepted. Bearing witness to this shame has galvanized the nation and helped to restore my faith again.

I know that the road forward is exhausting and steep and that hope is fleeting in the face of such immeasurable pain and repetitive quests for equality. I am aware that the struggle will need to continue until the embers of hatred, injustice, and racism have been extinguished for good. Maybe not in my lifetime, but surely in my children’s lifetime, I pray. 

I will do my best to find the bright spots and to blaze vibrant color through the tapestry that is my world. I will pay homage to my family, a microcosm of this multicultural country, and I will celebrate our differences while remembering that it is those myriad of flavors that make my life rich and fulfilling. I will retreat from the darkness and let the light drive hatred, racial animosity, violence, and intolerance into the background. I will find the vibration for healing, promise, acceptance, and love. I pray that this time we can succeed in putting out the fire of hatred and blanket our country with liberty, justice, fairness, and grace. I refuse to succumb to the hate, pain, and sorrow that threatens to envelop all of us if we don’t find the strength to resist the haters and elevate one another to our greatest ideals. I will continue to urge myself to create art and to find beauty to dispel the dark and invite joy, light, faith, and love back into my life.

And lastly, I will vote like my life, your life, our lives, and our country depends on it.

Be Well.

 

 

 

 

 

     

 

On The Rocks..

 


      I think I live my life with a certain amount of optimism and gratitude..most of the time. I have learned to accept the cyclical nature of my journey but even then it’s shocking when obstacles appear and suddenly the placid rhythm of life has been disrupted. I am in uncharted waters.
      Sure, I get it, challenging times are to be expected but they certainly don’t have have to be welcome with open arms. I know that there is a lesson to be learned from each jagged and rough hewed rock obstructing my path back to the tranquility of the shore. I know I need to embrace the good and the bad.
      I’ve read and absorbed the extensive wisdom of the the Truth-Tellers. I know I’m to embrace the rocks, and acknowledge the challenges in my path. I need to get to truly know each crevice and barnacle so I can feel the sadness, frustration, and disappointment.

      Then I can begin to climb over, under, above, through, and around these impediments and with bloodied and scrapped hands, I will crawl back to the sea where my equilibrium and hope reside. That is where my spirit feels at home. It is how I heal.

      I know all of that but for now I’ll gather my senses, my strength, and my determination and just breathe. While simultaneously preparing for battle and praying for my soulful return to hope, faith, grace and peace.

        Knowing this too shall pass.

RESILIENCE…………. Every time I thought about writing about this pandemic, my thoughts froze. Trying to sum up the magnitude of the damage, terror, and fear that we have all suffered in the name of Covid, it felt like the task was immeasurable. I struggled to capture the sheer scope of devastation when I realized, everyone already knows what the cost of this pandemic has been on all of us. Tragically, some suffered in horrific and deadly ways and all any of us could do was pray. While I shared the horror and the instability and the isolation, I also found some small measure of peace. I could only control the tiny sphere that became my world and even that was an illusion. Still it was one I needed. An illusion I clung to for all it’s worth. I wanted to remain steady and hopeful for my family in the face of the ravages of Covid. I found solace in the small things while the world’s storms wreaked havoc and sorrow. I was grateful for my family and their safety. I was relieved that my sons were home with me and their dad and not out in the world alone where my worry and fear might have consumed me altogether. Our home became our sanctuary and our escape. I felt safe and comforted here where I can be with my family and close friends and retreat from the never ending updates about the virus and it’s terrifying mutations. I find myself looking for the little moments, the quiet moments of awe and gratitude to remind me that all that I really need is right in front of me. I am looking ahead with a mixture of hope, faith, and trepidation. In the meantime, I will hold the beautiful and poignant moments in my heart and say a silent pray for those we lost, those still sick, and the people on the front lines who stood between us and this virus.

Exhale..

Exhaustion, fatigue, and dismay took over my life the last few months of the Fall. I found that I couldn’t find the energy to express how dark and isolated it felt watching our world spiral out of control. With no other recourse to stem the madness and despair, in the end, I just held my …

RETREAT..

It feels like the world is spinning out of control. America is divided and at a cross roads and the pandemic rages on. Trying to find solace, a place to retreat from the angst and the storms, feels impossible. The vibration of discontent lurks in the shadows and at times it seems we are being …