I keep coming home to the fact that we aren’t alone. That our truths, our actions, our dreams, are carried on the waves of those who came before us. I keep coming home to the love in my heart and the fire it wields. I keep coming home to the voice of my spirit, the call of my Ancestors, the love that is life. I keep coming home to the fact that our power exists entirely in and of us.
Trigger Warning: Reference to Assault. The last few weeks have been a nonstop avalanche of triggers and trauma. This is a lot to hold - it’s a lot to witness, and it’s a lot to contend with. I keep coming back to the invisibility of it all. The act of assault renders one invisible and that harm is reactivated by a culture that insists on not seeing any of this. A culture that embraces erasing, minimizing, and denying the pervasiveness of it all.
We see you Trading your compassion for your “power” Trading your humanity To sustain the lie that everything’s okay To sustain the lie that you are holding it together But we see you broken Unfeeling in this Concealing with this Acting out your wounds Unleashing your pain How small must you be That you would build victories On the backs of victims How small must you be That you would refuse to see us