How was your night?
Mine was emotionally rough. The Michael Brown Case in Ferguson -- the haphazard ways in which we treat each other really hurts me -- it gets right underneath my skin and makes my whole body cringe.
I cried last night. It was a good kind of cry. The kind of cry that washes away sadness and heals you from the inside.
I wrote a song as a way to release all these potent, bottled up emotions of anger, confusion, sadness and doubtful hope.
I moved into a place of allowance. I listened to what my body's sadness sounded like. My voice shifted into a lower octave. Every so often, in between one note and another, small glimmers of human hope could be heard. And this is when I knew I was okay; that I could be so sensitive and strong at the same damn time. My shoulders fell down, surrendering to the beauty and the let down of our shared experience.
We're gritty, us human beings, but art makes life worth living.
I'd like to share this thought below with you...it's precisely what I have been trying to say for a couple of weeks now. I spoke to a dear comrade of mine yesterday on our car ride home. We discussed the complex and tender reality of needing to follow what is right for you, irrespective of your cultural/societal context.
If you search within yourself, I am sure you'll know just what I mean.
If you search within yourself, I am sure you'll know just what I mean.
Cheers to a life --- truly lived, and truly felt.
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