Remembering New Ways

Maybe we can try something new.

I don’t mean “we” as in our government. I don’t mean “we” as our political party.

I mean “we” as in you and me. As in us. 

I mean the way we exist together in this world.

The way we are in relationship with those around us, the Earth under us. 

I look around and I see so much joy, so much connection.

I feel so much appreciation, so much love.

I also feel a deep ache that has been lingering ever since a friend cut me out of her life because I made a mistake.

I also see the tendency in myself and others to run away from tough conversations rather than face them with honesty and respect. 

I also hear the near constant attempts to separate us from them.

What would it look like to try something different? To allow ourselves to dream up new ways of being?

What would it feel like to build villages vast enough so that you always feel held, even when you’re not falling? 

What would it look like to grapple with difficult topics among people with different views? Among people who listen and allow you to stumble?  

What would it be like to practice setting boundaries at the distance at which we can love ourselves and others simultaneously?

What would it feel like if the pillars of our friendships were strong enough to weather the mistakes and misunderstandings that are inevitable when people are in relationship with one another? 

What would it be like to live in a culture of accountability where we and others know how to take responsibility for the harm we cause? Know how to apologize sincerely? Know what to do to make sure we don’t cause that same harm ever again? 

What if we let ourselves feel what we actually feel? To open up to what is?

To accept the contradictions in ourselves so that we can more easily accept the contradictions in others? 

What if we let ourselves dream radically?

Unconfined by what is, and abundantly open to what could be. 

What if we start there?

Not with them but with us. 

And what if these ways are actually not so new?

What if moving forward actually means taking time to look back? To remember? 

To remember Audre Lorde’s lessons on how loving ourselves radically is a prerequisite for loving others. 

To remember the wisdom, healing, reconciliation, and magic that can come from sitting in circles. A truth known and practiced by indigenous communities for centuries. 

To remember Octavia Butler’s insistence on imagining different futures. 

To remember the ancient Chinese tradition of “sitting the month,” a routine dedicated to the healing and holding of people who bring little ones into our world.

To remember Hooponopono, a practice that teaches us how to forgive and how to set things right.

What if we remember these new ways, together? 

~Some language in this poem is inspired by and borrowed from my partner Thuan Nguyen and my embodiment teacher/guru Prentis Hemphill.