2016 has been no inconsequential time in the human-recorded, human-influenced history of this planet. If you're reading this, you probably already know of the many horrific actions that have taken place, and hopefully, like me, you're thinking about what counter-actions, what productive and uplifting and right actions, to take in response.
So. What then?
I continue to have this thought: My silence is my complacency. My complacency is my complicity.
As a white cisgendered woman in the United States of America who holds a Bachelor's Degree, who is gay, and who is not part of the religious mainstream (I hold to Earth-based pre-Christian traditions), I am both privileged by the color of skin I have - white - and also part of the derided, abused, and vilified.
There are people (predominantly white cisgendered heterosexual men) who think I'm not worthy of equality or of choosing my own reproductive health needs and wants. They think people like me should be punished (or reprogrammed?) for being gay, and oh goodness, if they were going on a literal witch hunt right now, I would be in trouble.
They are doing that.
To our Muslim neighbors, friends, and fellow citizens.
I am surprised more people aren't saying "Tyranny." I am surprised that we haven't given him the boot before he gets in because he is the antithesis of what this country represents. And this is NOT a democratic process.
While the country aches, while I ache...
I turned 32 last week
-having just completed five months of solo travel that I could (and might) write pages and pages about.
-with a new capacity to experience connection and relationships, hospitality and compassion.
-with a kind of gut-level fear that I've never felt before for my own personal safety as white, as woman, and as gay.
-having just sent my friend, my editor, a first draft of a script that I've been working on.
-choosing to move forward and pursue my dreams and pray the prayers I need to pray and commit to doing ceremony for the earth at this time in all of the ways I know how.
My silence is my complacency. My complacency is my complicity.
For you, for me, for the collective us, I can no longer be silent. Or complacent.
The Earth needs our love, our compassion, our stories, our art, our tears, our blood, our passion.
It is the only way we will survive and through that survival, thrive.
32. What good can I bring into the world this upcoming year?