Walking

hold space for complexity 

while holding the line for democracy

Small but fierce

Go

Walk now

Hands in hands

Love

Peace

No kings

No tyrants

A symptom not a solution

We are the creators

This nation

Made by our consent

Love

Choas

Conflict

How to find a way out?

How to break these patterns of violence?

Three back

Three forward

Fourth in the middle

Seven generations

Sing

They are singing

Let's sing too

Never been good at harmonizing

But I'll carry a tune

Carry this with you

A calling

Of hope 

Of fear

A blessing

Another day

Here 

In my yard

Swinging

Singing

Writing

Hoping

May the future 

Be bright

Be Love

Be what it is

May the past feel heard

Healed

May we be here in this moment

Past, present, and future

Walking together

To mend

Walk now

Walk

I wrote this poem before going to the No Kings protest in Salt Lake City. I sang Twisted Sister's We're Not Going to Take It on the way to meet friends. I was apprehensive about going with everything in the news. But it felt like the right thing to do. 

 Then a band at the march played that that same Twisted Sister song. We danced. It was beautiful. I was thinking on the car ride there how nice it would be, what a demonstration of peace to sit in meditation with others. To quietly contemplate and share energy. What could be a truer way of protesting violence and anger? When we got to the protest someone else had the same thought. There was a tarp with meditation cushions laid out. They kindly let me join their circle. People all around had dressed up. Brought water, snacks, music, fliers, and stickers that they were just handing out freely. They brought their compassion, love, and sass.  They brought sunscreen in case you forgot yours. They brought their humanity. 

We left the march and were heading back to meet our ride. I was looking at the crowds. Peaceful. Vibrant. All kinds of signs and flags. I was overwhelmed by how beautiful everyone was. We had just left the route when we heard the shots. I froze. Luckily a friend said "this is when we run" Oh god you're right! On a street away people were running and scattering. We ran.

Riding in the backseat on the way back to my car. I watched the streets of Salt Lake go by. The Temples, brickwork, and historic buildings. Felt grateful for it all. The buildings. The sky. Grateful that there are so many people who care so deeply. Grateful for my home and the people here. Grateful for the chance to sing God Bless America in harmony with my friends. I sang in harmony!  For me that's quite a feat, and honestly an accident. Grateful to step out of my daydreams and see, truly see that I am far from alone. There are many singers in the dark. Many dreamers.

It's seemingly dark days even in the blazing heat of the summer. With the possibilities of darker days to come. But what if this darkness is what ultimately saves us? I keep thinking of patterns. How history repeats. Generational cycles. A wheel returning. There is a fear there, but also a comfort. This is new territory yes, but ancient stomping grounds. We've been here before. How can we do this differently? How do we do this now knowing what we know? I think we are more than equal to that challenge. There is a light here. A hope. 

This is dedicated to the beautiful people I met, danced, meditated and marched with. Things can change. Because people are beautiful, creative, and loving. My heart is with the man killed at the march. When I originally posted this it was the evening of the march. There was news that somebody was wounded. I said how grateful I was that no one died. That it could have been so much worse. After reading news I took the post down and I didn't know what to say about it. Still don't really know what to say about it. Looking at pictures and reading his story he seemed like such a good hearted person. Like so many of the beautiful people I met that day. I'm so sorry his family didn't get to see him come home. 

Always Much Love,

Emily