when you have no words

Faith Ringgold, The Flag is Burning, 1997

I awoke this morning with the heaviness of 2016 in a place in a country I never thought I would be again. Despite my hope and belief in the human race, I couldn’t shake a certain foreboding when I saw a young woman waiting in a long line in the streets of Philadelphia to cast her vote for the first time. She was so full of optimism, but something in her demeanor made me burst into tears.

And not the good kind.

I remembered voting in my first Presidential election in 1984, pulling the lever for Walter Mondale and Geraldine Ferraro, when I was that girl—so full of hope—and how my hope was so naive. Suddenly, I felt as if a dagger was being plunged into the center of my brain, and as much as I wanted to blame it on sugar withdrawal, I knew better.

Trump is going to win.

On a morning I thought I would never see, I share these words from a woman forty-five years wiser than me.

Thank you, Mary, for always being the light.

Dear ones,

In the wake of what has just happened to our country, God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

Today, I can, with God’s grace, hold steady to be a support for others who are shocked and afraid.

We can all be that.

So today I can change / transform my outrage into commitment to fight for democracy, to be an example of love, to work for change in a local level that can perhaps be strong enough in some ways to supersede Federal mandates.

Today we can come together in heartfelt support for one another and all those who need help redirecting anger / fear / despair into positive action.

and today, for some, positive action may look like nothing at all… . ..

except to mourn. and grieve. and breathe.

Thinking of all ~
💔