i want to write about it, but the words get caught in my throat.
bulging, straining, filling up the cracks and crevices of my lungs,
threatening to fly out with one
without edits or filters or rose-colored glasses.
to say that i don't know if it will be ok,
or if it will get better.
to share about how sometimes,
the pain and suffering are
like a tidal wave.
... or drowning.
the fear crowds in. suffocating.
it hurts to breathe.
the pain layering on and on.
when our backs are against the wall,
and all our instincts cry out:
retreat! disperse! divide!
when our fear and anxiety call out,
try to convince us to fortify our walls,
to close our hearts,
lest we drown...
whispering into the darkness,
the worst is yet to come.
the glimmer of hope holds strong.
love holds tight.
our hearts beat a story, reminding us
that we are greater than fear or pain or overwhelm.
we are more than the sum of our parts,
bigger than our strengths,
greater than anything that we could be alone.
in the face of fear, love holds.
hands held tightly, our fingers interlocked.
sweat dripping from our brows,
weary and stressed and tired and shaking.
in the face of fear, we stand firm.
we are love.
we choose love.
we are hope and joy and strength.
pain might bruise and beat and come at us from all sides.
fear might squeeze us with its shadowy whispers.
we feel as though we are drowning,
and yet we breathe.
we feel as though we cannot bear the weight,
and yet we hold.
and onto the promise of love.
The truth of this post and poem is that sometimes, things cannot be captured in prose. There is no story that I could tell, no five steps or recipe for what overwhelms and speaks pain and fear into our lives. And so, I did what a writer does. I allowed the muse to speak for me.
There is no answer. But there is hope.
It glimmers inside each of us.
This week - this past month, honestly - has been particularly difficult for me, on a personal and universal level. I was struck, just the other day, with this question:
In the face of fear, pain, overwhelm, anger and injustice... what do we do, those of us who cling to love and hope and compassion?
For, in the end, we know that those are the things of life.
I have no answer other than love itself. To create and cultivate connection. To radiate love. To make choices and enter into dialogue and act with radical compassion, openness, and empathy. To pause for a beat and gaze past ourselves and our agendas into the soul of the world. To love ourselves. To love others. To create and design and collaborate with love.
I love you.
With you peace and joy this holiday season.