exhale peace

Today I woke up early to take my friend to the airport shuttle. The air around me felt heavy and surreal. It was like someone died, my friend said.

Many Americans chose a man for president who I cannot find any love for. That’s the best thing I can say about him.

I wasn’t blindsided like I was in 2016. I silently cried my way through my yoga class last night as the results were coming in. I breathed in my desire for a loving, peaceful existence for all, I exhaled the bone tiredness of the way life feels when the misogyny, bigotry and racism of so many is expressed in such a visual, visceral and consequential way.

I felt the compulsion to find some way to make this hard moment and these hard feelings okay. I felt the desire to say things that might bring comfort or relief, but I knew it would only be a thin attempt to mask my own disappointment and rage. There isn’t a bright side that I’m willing to see right now.

This morning I took my car in for a new 12-volt auxiliary battery to be installed in my Prius. I feel relief that I am able to afford this and to get it fixed without being stranded by a car that won’t start. I always feel vulnerable dealing with car repairs, but I make my own decisions without consulting anyone else these days.

When it was over I came home, got back in bed, and slept for 2 more hours. I ate pumpkin Traders Joes cookies as I watched a documentary about Martha Stewart.

I found her life story inspiring and poignant today. I was reminded that we don’t know the full story of a persons life from what we see and hear in the media (and even in a documentary.) I knew she was a badass lady, but didn’t know the half of it.

I met her briefly once when she was a speaker at my junior high school benefit in the early 90’s. Everyone said how difficult she was, people used the B word about her.

I’ll never forget how cool it was to see such a powerful, confident woman apparently giving zero fucks about what anyone said about her and explaining impatiently in precise detail exactly how she wanted things to be. I was in awe.

I imagine the astronomical amount of energy that would be released into the world if women throughout history didn’t have to try so hard to be nice, appropriate, and accommodating of everyone else. The expectation of it is exhausting to absorb.

Today I don’t want to try to make anyone feel better. I don’t want to try to make anything okay. The reality is that no matter the president, the country I live in has a staggeringly violent history that has never let up. It’s unfathomable how much I don’t know about the suffering ordered and organized by our government and paid for by our taxes. Our violent legacy and pillars of oppression we’ve embedded and upheld aren’t likely to stop anytime soon.

It’s also my lived experience that most people I know have beautiful, kind hearts and are doing their best with what they have every day. Both things are true. Some days are much harder than others.

I’m probably not going to yoga today. I haven’t eaten healthy or nourishing food. I have been in triage mode trying to distract myself into forgetting for a few moments before being pulled back into a deep heaviness that will eventually fade, but will live on in my cells.

My body won’t forget the vibrations of this vote. It’s part of an armor I wear and only soften in rare instances. That’s sad, but true. I want better for myself and for everyone else. There’s always a better prayer to make.

For me, part of the process of getting to a better prayer can be going deeply into what sucks, what’s hard, and what absolutely is not working. I’m somewhere in that process most of the time.

I don’t know what the better prayer is yet, I only know it exists. I trust that I’ll get there.