Tiny Girl


Now comes the question…when is it time to stop raging?  I begin to think it is time to taper off, and then another story, another fact, another question, another brutalized child.  And it’s the end of day 2, really.  I feel the fire so ready to burst out of me, but I hear people say that they’re tired, that they can’t deal with another post, another discussion, another word of negativity.   So I think that maybe it’s not everywhere, it’s not everyone, it’s just me spiraling into more emotion than is safe for me to carry.

But if I settle with it,  I don’t think that’s actually true.

I am an empath.  I hear them, when I let down the walls, though lately it has been a struggle to let myself go that far.  To peel off the armored armor, the series of thoughts that spins around me, separated only by milliseconds as a band of data, a field that sets off alarms if pierced.  To just feel, of course, my own heart, but there is something else that is accessible.  In quiet times, in moments of vulnerability, there is a place that rises from the waters and beckons.

That first night after the election, as an experiment, I thought I would just let myself reconnect to the world, to that flow that I can feel when I do not guard after it, and it was so painful.  So extraordinarily frightening.  Wail upon wail, anxiety upon anxiety, unknown and strange in its address, but so familiar in its form.  It was a fear bigger than I could even process.  It was the fear of thousands in my body.  Instantly, I seized up, sat up in bed, in the darkness of that room, and mentally clawed for that armor, those defensive thought barriers.

I don’t know if I want to do it again, but I feel that I must.  Because how else can I bring light or hope or peace or anything else into that dark hall?  The empathy is a responsibility that I have been keeping privately, and now, now hearing others is a clarion call.  Hearing others and making sure, definitively, that they hear me.

I am reading and learning, sharing, learning what the Resistance looks like in this new era of digital protest.  Of course, the fear I feel is not just that from people of my party, it’s the fear of a whole trembling world.  It is just that close.  So there’s so much to be done.  And I know that others are not in the same state of being with this right now, every slot on the spectrum is filled from rage to bliss.  But I will not allow myself to despair, to feed what others who are open and trying to clear and direct with muck and garbage.

There are other stories about today – a boss who accepts facts, if only because there’s nothing more to do about them – panic that was conquered and then rose again.  But here’s what it is…we had our eyes open the day the Resistance was born.


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