the divide between us

I’m not always sure what to do with my anger. When the divide between us is so deep and wide it feels as if we occupy completely separate Earths. But we do not. We are both here. Closed system. Not escaping each other any time soon. And I know that we are

I’m not always sure what to do
with my anger.
When the divide between us
is so deep and wide
it feels as if we occupy
completely separate Earths.
But we do not.
We are both here.
Closed system.
Not escaping each other
any time soon.
And I know that we are
supposedly
more the same than we are
different.
And that probably
you have suffered things
I can’t possibly know or
understand.
And that I’m struggling
so hard
not to judge you
for this single moment in time
this little slice of an encounter
that couldn’t possibly
sum you up.
And yet still…
I am burning.
I am burning.
I am screaming out the question,
How on Earth
do we help the Hard Ones
soften?!
How do we touch hate to heal it
without being harmed?
Humiliated.
Dominated.
Traumatized?

An older retired
White Man
at the Christian cafe
So privileged,
so certain of himself
so embedded.
Laughing with his cronies,
at the ‘stupid activists’
who care about
that ‘pooooor baby orca’
‘poooooor baby orca’
‘whaaaa, whaaaa, let’s all cry
over the pooooor baby orca’
‘What a waste of breath!’
And I sharply inhale. Exhale.
Just like that.
He was so…calloused.
As if he had never considered
for a moment in his life
that he and his ‘kind’ alone
DON’T F**KING OWN this place.
The world.
The ocean.
The land.
The living beings.
The slowly dying population
of watery lovers and dreamers
with craniums bigger than ours
and capacity for empathy
exceeding that of humans
somehow just…
don’t matter to him.
Zero connection.
Zero concern.
Zero sensing of
their suffering.
The invitation to
join in their grief
completely impossible
to comprehend.
And I sharply inhale. Exhale.

My dear and precious
JPod ❤
I love you, I pray for you,
I do my best to echo locate you
with my heart.
And I cry for you,
tears like the ocean you swim in
salty and full of life
birthed from deep,
unbearable
sacred feeling.
You matter.
Just like the birth
of the ocean itself
from the passionate desire
of the One.
That it might
Exist! Exist! Live! Live!
That YOU might
be Here.
And you have the right
to be here.
YOU have the right to be HERE.
And I declare
in the presence of hate that
none of the tears or prayers,
or deep breaths between sobbing
or sharp inhales from
pained, determined
exhausted
human beings…
activists and
conservationists and
Indigenous
lovers of you
is a waste.
Perhaps it is the
only possibility
the only pathway
that counters hate
or indifference
(which is a sanitized kind of hate)
That we wholeheartedly
and without shame or concern
over the judgments and gaze of
the haters
LOVE WHAT WE LOVE.
And love it so DEEPLY
so tenderly
so completely
that it alters our lifeways
that we embody it
to the extent that
we weep
we move
we pray
we gather in circle
we commit to collective dreaming
we write it
paint it
sing it
dance it
MAKE it part of
the collective psyche.

And maybe THAT man,
who makes me burn
with his cruel
indifferent words
would never allow
his perspective to be changed
by any appeal
to compassionate reason
or an introduction in words
to interconnection.
Maybe.
But if our tears
our prayers
our art
our dance
and our
collective love breath
swells and gathers
permeates the air
he will take it in
without knowing.
He will swallow the truth
without realizing.
His lungs will be inflated
by the very particles
of caring
of compassion
of interbeing
he divorced himself from
in words
and claimed was being ‘wasted’
And it will not be wasted.

We need to breathe together.
Sharp inhale. Exhale.
Get it deep into the body, beyond the mind.
Keep on loving what you love.
Hate is a distraction.

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