Holding…On

I wrote this about a week ago (Feb 7th) in a group thread where we all share our biggest struggles & how we’d like to be responded to. It took awhile to share here. But here goes.

Mmk. My turn! So mine comes with a photo-essay. 🙃😔

After 2 months of full court battle things have finally stabilized. The 4 of us in the core of have all turned the last major corner. There's still a lot to be done, but the triage is complete & there are clear, viable paths forward. The emails & messages of hate, distrust, & betrayal have more or less stopped. The barrage of “how are you doing's” & “how can I help’s” have ceded—which means far less navigation of who is asking out of loyalty & cadre support or investigation to utilize against me. And for that I'm grateful.

Now that most everyone has gone back to their regularly scheduled program, I'm finally able to catch my breath. The adrenaline has done its job. I'm finally not in crisis—which is so great & what has made it possible to release so much crippling anxiety & fear over the last week or so. Plans & paths of operation are ready to be chosen & followed. It's beautiful.

And.

Now I’m able to feel the actual restrictions to my chest & weight on my breath. Now I can actually feel the exhaustion that I've survived & the blood dripping from cauterized wounds & bruises. Before when I said, “I'm not okay,” it's because I couldn't feel anything. Now it's because I can. It's frustrating to me that it's taking so much time, energy, & capacity to move through this season…and yet it doesn't feel like I can really do anything about that.

At the end of last week I was so overwhelmed I was metaphorically paralyzed. Now that the fire had been safely suppressed, there were seemingly a million questions I needed to make decisions on before taking another step. So at a dear friend’s suggestion, I said them out loud. 40 Questions, 7 Confessions, & 13 “What if’s” later, the reason for my overwhelm became clear: I am going into this new beginning not with the excitement of starting to build something, or even the energy of a fresh project, but absolutely exhausted.

I'm so tired y'all. So damn tired. When everyone else goes home & back to their “other” worlds & spaces, this has come home with me every single day. When everyone else goes home, it’s just me & it hanging out in my living room & kitchen. And now that my sensitivity is returning I can feel it too. I don't have any more thoughts for it—just feelings in my body now. All I want to do is lay down & not get up. Not to eat, not to watch TV, not to go for a walk. And I'm pretty sure the only reason I've done any of that is because a friend has been here staying over with me on Tuesdays - Thursdays each week. Now I don't even want to do that. As things are expected to start ramping up, I feel like I need to power down. But I know from previous seasons of therapy that I don't actually do well when I power down—it only makes things worse: it's like a car during a snow storm—if you ever fully stop, there's a good chance you won't get moving again without serious injury. Even changing lanes is dicey.

This space is more important to me than it's ever been before because it's keeping me from getting dragged into the vortex of the neoliberal leanings that came with this project. And as you've probably gathered from my falling asleep in meetings, I'm so tired.

As I was talking to one of the other 3 in the core of this last week, a new knowledge began to settle for me. So here it goes. Imagine an explosion (like an IED for example).

There are those who felt the ground shake & had concern, many of whom gave great commentary on CNN about what they saw of the incident, speculations & “eye-witness” accounts tangled up with reporters doing all they could to get some photos.

Then there are those who were thrown back by the blast—some of whom may have been hit with shrapnel. Most of those folks will have trips to the hospital or urgent care in their immediate future. Many may even need some recover time from surgeries or whatnot.

Then there are the people who had their feet on the IED when it went off. And the people who were holding their hand as they were jumping off. Those people lose limbs. Those people all have forever injuries to the point that nothing about their body's movement will ever be the same. Even after years of PT, a prosthetic hand will never grip things the same. Those people will likely live the rest of their lives with night terrors.

And that last group is the category I'm in. Only a lot of people are also convinced I helped plant the IED in the 1st place, or at least helped disguise it so others couldn't tell where it was.

There's not really a solution or a direct ask here, except maybe to continue holding me with grace? Please don't give me a pass on things, but confront me with gentleness maybe? Cut me off if I'm talking too much because stress gets me rambling. Please don't try to make me comfortable, or give me what I want because you feel bad. Refrain from pity but do try to remember compassion through this long haul struggle. Because it's not going away or just “for awhile.” But consciousness feels really critical right now, and I cannot imagine anything worse than people making decisions or doing things they felt emotionally manipulated into doing.

With deep love & trust,

K. Marie

A Dream Revived

Dream Again

Can you go back to your childhood, and dare to dream again?

When your daddy asked what you wanna be, do you remember what you said?

Did you wanna go to the moon, and live within the stars?

Did you wanna dance in front of millions, and captivate their hearts?

If you could pick anything, what would you be?

Can you find your imagination, and set the captive free?

Dare to dream--again.

Dare to leap--again.

Dare to reach--again.

Dare to be, again.

Do you recall when you were 10, and your momma lost her job.

When you found out nothing was for sure.

And sometimes good people fall.

It pulled you out of your daydream

And into reality.

That was the first time you put limits on what could be.

That day you got home late from work, and grabbed the mail on your way in.

And you found that letter from the school you applied early decision.

Your first choice & your papa's almamater--you were sure of your reply.

But when you opened up that letter, it said you were denied.

It felt like your life ended that moment.

All your plans could never be.

But don't you know there are so many paths from here to your destiny?

Remember when your boss called you into her office

And said they had to let you go.

Or when you got down on one knee

And your girlfriend told you, "no?"

Just because it doesn't go your way, doesn't mean it isn't right.

Darkness doesn't last always--and neither does the night.

Be Intentional

This week I celebrated my birthday--25th to be specific. So it seemed to me the perfect moment to pause.

I know it's common for people to get reflective around the beginning of a new year.

And I'm no exception. But January doesn't do much for me. For me, my "Man in the Mirror," moment always happens right around my birthday--my personal new year.

I believe there's power in that.

Like any other garden, pruning and weeding are an important part of the process, and if it's not done regularly, growth is not only minimized, but health of the overall crop is often impacted negatively.

And I think it's fair to relate a life to a garden, and not just because it involves constant attention. Like a well-planned and maintained garden, its quality is measured by multiple rubrics of value. You see, the part of a garden filled with tomatoes, corn, and zuchinni might not be as visually attractive to everyone as one filled with orchids, tulips, and lilies, but it is just as valuable (and difficult to maintain). Life needs both beauty and utility to have balanced worth. After all, what is a house on a hill if you can't throw a party in it?

If we're not constantly reassessing the things that are impacting our environments and wellbeing--including what we do and do not allow of ourselves and those we deem colleagues, then we run the risk of self-sabotaging our character via neglect. I don't claim to speak for anyone else, but I've found my most important and life-changing decisions have happened right around my "New Year." I also have yet to regret a single one of them. And I have a theory for why that is. You see, I'm a big "goal-person". Whether I achieve them or not, I'm always working towards goals based on the overall vision I have for my future. That way, when I make plans or important decisions, I have something to check them against to see if they're in my best interest for now, later, or never. But as much as I would love to be able to say that happens every time, I can't. However, as my year winds down, I re-evaluate things, which causes me to take another look at my plans, see if they're moving me towards my goals, and re-adjust accordingly.

There is a prayer in the Book of Psalms in the Bible found in the 90th Chapter where Moses is asking God to "Teach us to number our days carefully so that we may develop wisdom in our hearts." (Ps. 90:12). And I do believe a mindset like that is important, because it speaks to remaining focused on ultimate goals to keep from being lost in and bogged down by immediate ones. Not getting caught up in monotony, but remembering the greater purpose within each day's labor. Perspective does wonders for progress, and without it, it becomes easy to forget that the ultimate goal of tilling soil isn't to plant a seed of grain, or even grow a garden--but to feed a family.

Now I can't say for certain I know what the future holds, or even who I will be 10 years from now. But this I know for sure: it will be intentionally crafted with care. Life is not an accident. So while I can't control every piece of it, I refuse to let it "just happen." My journey is not one of happenstance. I was created with purpose (and so were you for that matter).

So I'd like to encourage you--be vigilant in your self-development on all fronts. Because the most fruitful (non-GMO) gardens have always had the most tending.

“It’s not my thing.”

I know a lot of people who say politics isn’t their thing & they don’t really like reading or learning about history.

And I could say that’s fine and well because we all have our interests–but it’s not. I don’t like math, but unless I want to trust all the handling of all my finances to someone who “likes” math, I’m darn sure going to learn how to count. Not because I think numbers are cool, but because my livelihood and prosperity depend on it. It’s simple wisdom.

I truly believe that as a millennial adult you cannot hold someone else responsible for the problems caused by your willful ignorance.

So Dear America, please stop choosing to avoid World History. Because, like arithmetic, if we ignore the precepts found therein, we’re doomed to be duped by someone who paid attention.

With Much Love & Respect,

K. Marie

This is Where I Am

I could say it’s been an emotional day, but in all honesty, as an American Human it’s been a long year. I feel like at least a decade’s worth of heavy heart has taken its toll in 2015. To be frank, I haven’t lived a day of my adult life outside the shadow of domestic or international terrorism.

You see, terrorism doesn’t begin or end with an event causing mass casualties. Terrorism has a purpose. And, not to be insensitive, but a freak accident can cause tragedy. Terrorism is the strategic annihilation of hope in place of blindly disheartened fear. Terrorism isn’t a car blowing up on the side of a road. Terrorism is a man driving into the middle of a crowded street in order to publicly blow up his car near others for the purpose of inciting widespread fear of an unpredictable predator.

The thing that makes terrorism, terrorism isn’t that a bad thing happens–bad things happen every day. It’s when bad things are made to happen in order to stop or hinder people from living a full life either by destroying their physical ability to do so or instilling enough fear or hatred to prohibit them from attempting to gain it themselves.

Living in a state of terror is reflected by a lack of trust that governing bodies, law enforcement, community, or other authorities are able or willing to protect you or your best interests from a known and active threat.

Please be sure, I am deeply grieving for France, Beirut, Kenya, Baghdad, and many others that have suffered mass attacks over the last weeks. But the issue here isn’t that terrorism is a new global problem. The American issue here is that we focus on global pain while ignoring the domestic, internal terrorism that is flooding our borders under the guise of freedom. The fact of the matter is that every single one of our systems are broken, causing the majority of Americans to live in systematically oppressed states of terror all over the nation.

Our political machine. Our education institution. Our economic process. Our healthcare programs. Our justice system.

Each broken in a way that pierces a hole in the lungs of hope for millions of Americans each day. Leaving them deflated with little to no hope in themselves or for their future. Causing them to face a reality that says, “You’ll never be anything other than what we make you, have anything we don’t give you, or do anything we don’t allow you to. Oh, and the rules change daily without notice.”

This isn’t fiction, it’s reality for the socially and economically disenfranchised (read non-white or female or poor) in America.

So if there’s any wonder who’s the biggest terrorist threat to America? You can be sure, it’s herself.

Every Single Day

People are dying.

In streets.

In schools.

In hospitals.

In churches.

In coffee shops.

In airplanes.

In mosques.

In government buildings.

In buses.

In department stores.

In boats.

In movie theaters.

In cars.

In homes.

Think about the last argument you had. Picture the person you disagreed with in an open casket. Now was it worth it?

Life is too short to be petty.

Life is too short for anything but forgiveness, care, & love.

I, Too, Am America

In my lifetime I’ve seen planes fly into multiple major national buildings.

I’ve seen wars launched discreetly and indiscreetly.

I’ve seen communities unite like never before only to turn on themselves again with paralleled fervor.

I’ve seen schools, churches, playgrounds, & hospitals become home to gunfire.

I’ve seen riots over painful mishandlings of power and poor executions of justice.

I’ve seen churches burned to the ground.

And that’s only in my country.

I am a part of a generation who’s either grown up too quickly or not at all.

I’ve experienced felt terror at levels that are numbing and remained standing.

I’ve witnessed every odd stacked against me and found hope to hold onto.

And as a lower middle-class, multi-racial, female, millennial adult, I’d like to have it noted that I, too, am America.

Charleston, SC

I’ve been struggling all day to find any words to adequately express how I’m feeling.

Grieved doesn’t seem heavy enough, but I can’t think of a word that describes this torment my heart is enduring any better.

I am not in so much pain today because these victims were black, nor because they were Christians.

I am in mourning today because there were ten human beings whose humanity was ripped away from them at the hand of the senseless hate that was allowed to quietly take hold of a young man in a society that gave him the gift of freedom of belief without the responsibility of morality.

Because of an age that taught him to do and be what he wanted fearlessly with no concern for the consequences. Because of the generation that gave him the courage to take a stand without the requirement of socially accountable intentions.

We’ve done a flawless job of teaching the ideology of independent freedoms & self-sufficiency, but failed at teaching to love one another in unity. A soul so passionately consumed with hate is already dead. There are ten souls today I grieve for, because my Savior taught me that all lives do matter–regardless of my judgement of their worthiness.

We’re in this together, and the cycle of hate-inspired hate must end today.