My Journey Home
Being a trauma survivor has been difficult throughout my life, but in particular these past four years. The abuses and gaslighting served up by the 45th United States president and his minions has pushed every button I’ve got over and over again. This week topped them all as I sat in horror and watched a group of frenzied people storm the Capitol in an attempt to do #45s bidding. How do I find any light in what this country has become? How do I hold out hope for a brighter tomorrow? These are questions that more than half of my country continue to ponder; the other half feel they were righteous in their actions of voting for him for a second term. I will never understand that.
Eleven days from now we will inaugurate #46. He has been a stalwart servant of our country his entire life. He is a humble man with a good heart and a good sense of humor. It is unfair for him to have to take on this mess of a country, but he chose to do it and we chose him. I try to hold tight to all the good feels this man generates in my heart, but it is a constant struggle for I am forever bombarded with the realizations that half of my country either can’t see good from evil, or cares more about themselves than they do fellow country-men and -women.
Light illuminates everything, especially flaws, so I guess in that sense this past four years has been a success. We illuminated a strong white supremecist fraction in our country that has been emboldened by the one in the oval office. We illuminated a disturbing element of it in many police departments across this country too. The ugliness stymies me but the truth is we can’t address these issues unless we see them and face them; and face them we must!
Though the light may have illuminated our most egregious flaws, it also illuminated the best of our humanity and warmed my heart as it did. I stop here and give thanks for all the people who expressed the best of our humanity during these most stressful times. Those who marched in the streets or took a knee at an event. Those who supported the Black Lives Matter movement in the classroom, in a blog, at the kitchen table, or in the halls of Congress. The journalists who continue to shine light on it all. The light of hope for a better tomorrow shines in you and through you – and therefore in us. I thank you and pray that my gratitude reaches your soul today as much as your actions have reached mine. For though evil has manipulated and controlled the spotlight for these last four years in the highest office in our country, our light will shine even brighter now because of it.
That whole “everything happens for a reason” mantra has never been more clear. Yes, it sucks that we’ve had to live through these years with a madman at the helm, but we have prevailed. Hope is alive, though often elusive, until you slow and look for the light. May you find some space and time to do so today and everyday, until what we want our country to be matches our reality. Namaste.