In Memory

It seems we cannot change circumstances, politics, and the brutal reality of lethal violence.

It seems we can hardly change ourselves.

Sometimes, no matter how hard we have fought for justice, we witness again and again, that humans can and will do to others and to their own--the unthinkable.

What do we do with the rage that we hold, if it seems that bad guys continue to harm, and the innocent continue to suffer?

What do we do with the profoundly complex and intractable overlay of internalized racism and the culture of brutality that only entrenches itself with each incident.

Why can't we heal our family of humans, our nation of violence, much less our own failures within and without?

We cannot quiet our fury, our grief, our sense of helplessness in the face of another senseless death, or our own relentless memories.

A survivor looks at this through the tunnel of recovery, awake to it all. The work makes us more alive in the face of our own situation, and perhaps more acutely--those who are suffering, stuck or helpless like us.

But there are those we do not like or know--perhaps the ones who harmed or continue to harm. They too are suffering and stuck.

Words alone do not take away this pain or further a resolve to change the system or ourselves.

We grieve together. We do so with resolve and fierce tenderness.

But we cannot look away from any of this.