What will it take?

*On June 13^th, I lay wrapped up in my blankets at 5:30 in the morning, reading articles about the murders in Orlando and sobbing. I thought about all the people who were killed that night because of who they love. I thought about all the black people that have been and continue to be murdered by people who are supposedly there to keep people safe, with no repercussions at all. I thought about all the women I know, and all those I don't, whose bodies have been taken advantage of and assaulted. I didn't go to school that day; I just couldn't put on a happy face. Instead I wrote this.

This morning I felt called, yet again, to meditate on fear. On hate. On violence. On death.

What will it take, I asked myself, to stop dehumanizing each other?

What will force us, every one of us, to face the fear and hatred and ugliness in our own hearts, to reach inside and extract it, face it head on and wring it out?

What will it take?

I could write all the phobias and all the isms in a list covering my entire body

scratch it into myself with a knife to get a taste of what it might feel like to be unsafe in this world

to be afraid for my life

to have to wear an armor to protect myself against other humans who don't see me as such.

What will it take?

What will it take for all of us, every one of us, to stop seeing difference as bad

as scary

as wrong

as things to put down

make fun of

run away from

abuse

murder

As anything other than truths that are as real as the weather and gravity and the steady beat of the human heart?

As anything less than a point of entry to a greater understanding of humanity?

What will it take?

I've had to don my own armor, because too many men see a woman's body as something to take

to claim ownership of.

How many times have I instinctively tried to make myself less visible to avoid attracting attention? That too is a form of violence, and the threat of greater harm is always there.

What will it take?

Our differences are

important

valuable

beautiful.

So are our similarities, as human beings with

faces

stories

beating hearts

childhoods

With

pain

love

wisdom.

With fears

doubts

favorite kinds of candy.

We have all of these things, every one of us.

To silence someone else, whether for a minute or forever, silences our own humanity too.

And if we don't fully feel that silence, that pain, then we've gotten very good at being a little less human.

visual representation of my third eye. I think we all need to get ours checked.