There’s a certain amount of ego that goes with doing but also a very generous dose of anxiety.
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The hike was stunning. And, like so many things, it belied a darker history.
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I’m forever forgetting and then remembering (briefly) to be where my feet are. Or at least where Ace’s hooves are.
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Settler colonialism, alive and well. Wash, rinse, repeat.
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From Kent State to Columbia University.
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My identity is in many ways formed around always being fine, always able to care for and focus on others. So, when I lose that perspective and that ability, even for a short time, it seems to throw me for a loop.
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A run of the mill cold - that nevertheless took me out, man down, for the better part of four days, and continues to linger - knocked me back into that place of resigned perspective.
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For four years I’ve written consistently on this site, deliberately placing outside myself thoughts for public consumption that I previously would have kept to my journal or shared with a few close friends.
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I wouldn’t call it restful or restorative or even much like a vacation. It was travel, and it was at once exhausting and delightful. Familiar and astonishing.
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I’ve never been good at absolutes. I’m always looking for nuance and discussion and, most of all, a way forward. I haven’t been able to find space for that, other than with a handful of close friends who confess they feel the same way but are similarly afraid to admit it.
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This destination focus, the arrival fallacy: my little goal-oriented overachieving heart falls prey to it again and again.
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Systems of oppression isolate us from each other - and from ourselves - by design.
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Life doesn’t exist without pain. In fact, as one of my all-time favorite movies reminds us, “life is pain…anyone who says differently is selling something.”
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It’s the beauty and the agony of a life lived connected to other people. Feeling fully how vulnerable, and how powerful, that connection makes me.
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The rollback of reproductive rights is fundamentally about trust and power - just like international development funding.
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Acknowledging that we’re all trapped unlocks in me a little window of compassion.
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This is what it means to work on human rights: bearing witness to the brokenness without becoming completely dehumanized - or completely incapacitated by despair.
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Instead of actually fulfilling its obligations to citizens, the government offers palliative “breaks” in its normally planned failure to provide basic public services.
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I guess that’s been the theme of this experience thus far - why not try? To get a bit more of what I want out of the many hours and years of my life I have left to fight for social justice in all its many forms. To do things a bit more on my own terms.
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