We Who Believe in Freedom*
Highlights of
My morning
So far:
First and
Always-Foremost—
Risking my life
For my dog
To poop.
Dirt roads
And ice!
Currently
A spicy blend
Of
Ice and mud.
Feeling
Big thankfulness
For the spikes
On my boots.
Next—
Standing in the doctor’s office,
Seeing the cutest child/person/being.
I don’t know how to assess kid-age.
She did not come up to my knees,
If that helps
Child/age/assessment
She had purple glasses on,
Which took up space
On her
Petite
Face.
A determined,
Select finger,
Kept pushing them up
Into place.
Two pink plastic bows
Highlighted
Either side of her dark,
Tidy and comfortable
Kid-hair.
Her boots were fantastic.
I wanted a pair.
Tiny-cowboy-shaped-cute-crazy-metallic-color-
Boots.
She purposely stomped
A bit
When she walked,
Probably big fun.
Her mom said she
Chose those boots
Purposefully
To wear this morning.
That was obvious.
Tights and a little blue dress,
Her multi-colored parka
On top.
She grabbed my heart
With her cuteness,
With her fully alive
Presence.
And didn’t let go.
We had an interaction—
I’m not sure
That we
Actually talked.
Energy being more important
Then content, obviously.
I loved her.
I will love her.
I will remember her.
I never had a child.
I’ve been given
Many things
In this lifetime,
But not that.
Not a child.
It never occurred as
An option.
Being a radical lesbian feminist separatist,
Whatever that meant to me then,
A child wasn’t a part of that.
Then, living in an ashram.
No kids there,
Too busy
Going to God.
Then, after that.
Being too focused
Getting a post-ashram life.
And truth is,
I was old
By then.
But I do think—
Life has cared for me
By not
Giving me a child.
My heart would have
Broken open
With delight
And
Adoration
And terror
And love.
My heart
I believe
Is too-tender-
To be
The heart
Of
A
Kid-Mom.
Not this lifetime.
Not that.
Perhaps this
Is the only
Real regret
Of my life.
~~~
I left the doctor’s office
Weepy from this encounter.
Seeing this kid/person sitting
So patiently on her mom’s lap,
Reading a book.
They had a long wait.
She was much more patient
That I.
Weepy with gratitude
For the children.
Weepy with worry
For the children.
Weepy with anxiety
About the children.
What do they face
On this planet of ours?
In this country
Of ours?
What do they face?
What will they face?
Yet, with a breath,
With a moment,
Or a few,
A few breaths
And
A few
Moments,
I believe—
As this world was handed
To us,
We too, will,
Hand it to them.
They are
Our hope.
~~~
Which takes me to this song.
Another weep-er of the week.
Another one I compulsively played while driving,
Over and over,
Releasing tears,
Tears
That
Needed
Releasing.
We Who Believe in Freedom Will Not Rest.
Words and music are written by Dr. Bernice Johnson Reagon, taken from the teachings of Ella Baker.
Have you ever heard of Ella Baker?
Ella was a brilliant activist, mentor and revolutionary, a Black hero of the civil rights Freedom Movement who inspired and guided emerging leaders.
Sung here by the incomparable Sweet Honey in the Rock, with lyrics following:
Chorus
We who believe in freedom cannot rest
(We who believe in freedom cannot rest)
We who believe in freedom cannot rest… until it comes!
(We who believe in freedom cannot rest)
Verses
Until the killing of Black men, Black mothers’ sons
Is as important as the killing of White men, White mothers’ sons…
And that which touches me most is that I had a chance to work with people
Passing on to others that which was passed on to me…
To me young people come first, they have the courage where we fail
And if I can shed some light as they carry us through the gale.
The older I get the better I know that the secret of my going on
Is when the reins are in the hand of the young who dare to run against the storm…
Not needing to clutch for power, not needing the light just to shine on me
I need to be just one in the number as we stand against tyranny…
Struggling myself don’t mean a whole lot I come to realize
That teaching others to stand up and fight is the only way my struggle survives…
I’m a woman who speaks in a voice and I must be heard
At time I can be quite difficult, I’ll bow to no man’s word…
Shifting gears but not really, here is an Instagram I posted for Kripalu Center. I’m grateful to share it with you.
Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health Instagram Page
~~~
Friends,
Give us
The courage
And the willingness
To remember—
Every time
We come
From kindness,
We are
The
Healing.
Every time
We come
From kindness,
We are
The
Solution.
Every time
We come
From kindness,
We are
The silent
Revolution.
Help us
To be
A revolution
Of
Love.
May all beings benefit from our shared words.
Stay blessed,
Aruni
~~~
*Song title, words and music by Bernice Johnson Reagon