(photo by Linsey Laidlaw)
Dearest friends, I wanted to get this out sooner as I’ve been wanting to mourn here with those who feel pain. I need you and I know we need each other. Though this morning, I was a mess of pajamas and tears after nightmares and little sleep. Hilary’s speech this morning had me sobbing. And then I hurried to meet up with one good friend I have here. We had a girls’ lunch with her two daughters, and it was a gift from heaven to feel sisterhood. My soul is now relieved to connect with you here, as my thoughts have been with you all day. Thank you for being here.
I wrote this just before Hillary’s speech…
On this day, I feel the deepest despair for our nation and our world.
I’ve been reeling at the pain this message sends to lives, families, and children – and most especially to women, girls, Muslims, blacks, browns, LGBTQ, disabled, immigrants, veterans, and on and on.
I feel beaten down by the sheer numbers that chose this. I feel betrayal in my core and in my cells, in places that get reached by the greatest offenses. I’ll be working to heal this pain so that it does not settle in my bones.
My eyes felt swollen when I awoke, as I remembered that the horrific nightmare I was having while sleeping was actually real life.
My dogs are near me now. And I have tears streaming down as I write. And I remember so clearly…
This feeling of betrayal and loss is one I have experienced before.
My worst nightmares have come true before.
I survived it.
And I can be better and make the world better because of this – because of this pain.
The Miracle of a Shift
When I first tasted this kind of despair, it was after my first husband left the country and never returned. The grief and betrayal was so, so deep, so personal. One dark night I got out an empty journal – one that I had never written in, as journals require that you write the truths of your soul. But back then, the truth inside me was not connected to the outside world. It never surfaced. How could I taint cotton pages in a fancy leather-bound book with pain?
But in that moment, I wrote it out. And what was in me was anger and disgust. I wrote so hard and uninhibited with my pen that words were large and all over the page. My pen pierced through the paper. I sobbed, as I’m sobbing now. And then I also spoke out those vehement words in my empty apartment. The walls heard my voice loud and clear.
The next time I opened that book, I wrote a new list. I wrote every damn thing that was still good in my life. Every ounce. I made that list as long as I could.
And that gratitude shifted my energy. This is what miracles are made of. And that shift gave me some strength to move on. It empowered me. It ignited a flicker of light and hope within me. And I realized that this man did not own me. I had so much goodness in me. My greatness could fill the world and he couldn’t stop me. That liberation literally changed the course of my life.
Looking for Light Now
Last night, after seeing Trump’s numbers take over, I could barely speak. This morning I have felt mostly felt numb.
But as I mourn, I know, too, that I can embody light more and more as my strength returns. I know Trump does not own us and our power to change the world for the better. We are limitless and I know we can GO HIGH – to the highest places of humanity. And I have extreme gratitude for the Revolution that has begun, for millions who are working against hate and for equality, for the women who are standing SO VERY STRONG and rising up in the millions, for people who have crossed lines to take a moral stand, for the deep sisterhood and oneness I feel with so many.
This movement of Freedom is calling my name so strongly. I feel on a wave of history making. The baton has been passed from those who have come before – from those who have been fighting for decades, mostly in my oblivion. And I feel it in my hands now. It is clear there are others who cannot yet carry it. This is my time and our time to step up – for those who have experienced loss and betrayal much greater than I could ever imagine; for all those who don’t yet know this loss exists.
I will do my best to carry this baton forward for the rest of my days.
“If you had a taste of what I’m talking about, you couldn’t get enough of it. You may spend your whole life chasing it (and that’s possible) – but it would be a good thing to chase.”
-Buck Brannaman, from the movie, Buck.
My heart is with you now. What has this outcome been like for you? Please feel free to mourn here. Or to share light. Or ideas for change. I would love to hear whatever is inside you now. You have my love and support and solidarity.