Last fall and winter, I was busy…falling in love. So much happened, so fast, and I was consumed with moving towards decisions that include another human as my partner, my companion in life, my person.
Falling in love and setting up house with someone was something that until a few months ago truly seemed beyond what I could expect in life. It was not something I imagined for myself. Not because I didn’t think I deserved it anymore (though that was probably true for a big part of my life), but because of the pragmatism that creeps in with aging. Independence was no longer something I reveled in, but it was something I had come to rely upon.
Enter love. The divine up-ender of our plans.
Suddenly, like social change, a “moment” appears that you couldn’t have possibly anticipated, but here it is. It seems like everything is moving slowly, and then…
The running water
pushes against the shore
changing direction
but reluctantly,
loosening, struggling,
and then RUSH –
The sand moves
quickly but gracefully
and the water
now has a new flow.
It seems like everything has happened all at once, but I know that it took many years of effort and growth and strain and hope and loss on both of our parts to arrive here with each other. Just like grassroots movements push and organize and dream and work until something in the society gives way, and a new understanding of how things are and must become arrives. The murder of George Floyd in 2020 was a moment that gave way…but to see that undeniable flashpoint as the turner of the tide of people’s awareness of police brutality is to erase the labor and the impact of generations of Black activism.
We go about our work, and we watch. We prepare. We pray. We forget. We re-up. We strategize and re-strategize. We rest. We wait. We pour in. We grieve and wail. We try to just keep living.
Until a moment arrives…and the stream now has a new flow.
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