Rage + joy need each other

A couple poems of resistance

Gentle readers, I’m sending you deep love this day. For whatever your body is holding. I’m currently hanging out at my airbnb in Texas as I get ready for a work conference this week.

Wearing my pride shirt through their airport felt like more of a statement than usual. The person who rang up my food in the terminal said, “I like your shirt.” I glanced at their lanyard full of transgender buttons. We looked into each other’s eyes and nodded and I tried not to cry. A million things went through my head that I wanted to say but the next person waited impatiently behind us. So I simply said, “Thank you,” and conveyed all the love I could as I smiled at them.

They smiled back.

Since the election, my daily rhythms have veered from rage to joy and back to rage like a three-year-old without a nap. I don’t like feeling rage. It makes me feel out of control and too wild for my comfort zone. I feel a deep need to not tuck it away like I have in the past. The rage is welcome. What does it want me to see? To feel? To know?

Here’s to one step at a time, choosing to show up to whatever emerges. Even if it’s uncomfortable. We really can grow our nervous system’s capacity to handle more of life’s complexity.

Love is so good to us.

I’ve been tapping out a ton of poems on my phone as I continue processing this season. Here are two of them. Much love, my friend.

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the world will
move on soon
because that’s what
we do when something
gets too uncomfortable

but this time around
something feels different

there’s an eerie quiet rage
burgeoning
flourishing
burning

this rage knows what
they’ll say next

use a kinder tone
don’t make this all about you
settle down, you’re making
people uncomfortable

we know how to smile
turn on the charm you expect
take a back seat
ease up

problem is —

the rage only seems
to be growing

Photo by Elijah Potter on Unsplash

it feels quite ridiculous
to make space for joy
to bounce through my life
this week but she did

she shimmered when
the sun lit that leaf on fire

she threw her head back
and howled when my friend
sent that perfect meme

she smiled when
my son climbed into bed
and said i didn’t have to worry
because he was going to worry for me

shame whispered
who do you think you are?
this is not the time to feel happy

but wisdom made her
presence known
my dear, we need it all
right now

look for the beauty
breathe it in deep
let it sustain and nourish

rage and joy
need each other

otherwise one might
forget what they’re
fighting for in the
first place

Photo by Lesly Juarez on Unsplash

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Still Here: A Poetry Memoir of Grief & Love

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