I’m sitting outside a church at the end of the day thinking about what it means to be a human being in this world full of struggle. A sleepy cat is next to me and people at the cafes nearby are having a good time.
I’m thinking about connection, roots and how I want to be in the world.
And the truth is I don’t know how to change the world and I think it would be arrogant for me to say I did. I simply want to be present to it. Present to the ways people are hurting without shutting down. Present to the ways people are asking to be heard.
I remember when I was assaulted in the queer community how painful it was to speak out and not be heard. I remember watching my trans friends asking to be heard and seen and ignored. I remember speaking out for black lives matter and watching my local community crumble.
And the truth is I want more poetry, more reasons to get up in the morning, more examples of daily kindnesses, more sitting with each other.
And it’s fucking hard sometimes. But right now, I’m sitting next to a sleeping cat near a church where I’ve just prayed to Mary and my partner is waiting because she knows I need this time to myself.
And I should probably read this over but I’m just going to post because this is what’s real right now.