Joy is our key to resilience. It’s the thing that actually gives us enough courage to face our fear of loss and still allow ourselves to feel gratitude anyway. Without a deep commitment to the vulnerability of joy, we would not have the fortitude to survive sorrow.
What if we ask and it doesn’t come? What if the way it comes isn’t how we wanted it? What if it’s not from who we want it? Or, even worse, the last person we want it from?
Asking is a form of surrender and that shit is scary. More than needing help itself.
The freedom I feel while waiting for the bus. I smile and take note. It reminds me of the color mustard and how I wore it for more than a year, strapped to my back, waiting and smoking and leaving and, saying hello again and again.
Can our love find a way that is not violence? That is not a reaction of hatred to hatred? Fear pushed up against fear, heavy heads against brick wall alleys?
It is a risk to love. I think of this as I sit next to my cousin on the broken down porch of our Grandfather’s home. He’s wearing a gun. I can…
In a way, my sister grew me up. Although I am the oldest of three, we are all close enough in age that in a sense, we raised each other. I would…