Okay, y'all. It's day three of seven. I thought I had this whole daily-blogging-thing on lock, and then I went to see Selma, cried a whole bunch, stayed up late talking about racism and now here we are. 12:54 a.m. and I am bone tired.
I'm bone tired, and I'm at a loss. I feel heavy under the weight of our racist and violent past, and heavy that things aren't better now. I am unsure of how to live in a way that spreads the deep compassion I believe in. I feel doubt that I am moving forward as I should. The other blogs I read don't say a word about what's happening right now, about #blacklivesmatter, and so I feel cowardly and afraid to write about it as well. But the fact is there is a big race problem in this country and we won't solve it by staying quiet or by refusing to say anything because it's "not professional".
How can my skills be put to good use in this fight? How can we come together to improve the lot of our neighbors? Can this business of mine help? Can the poems and dances I make help? I don't have answers, but it feels good to have questions. To seek the way forward. To knit my beliefs and my interests ever together, though they feel impossibly discrete and distant.
I believe ever more in hope and optimism; they make for sure feet on a rocky path.