You know what I care about? Humanity.
Those whose gentle and emotional hearts beat in darkness, frustration, fear, sorrow, despair, and emptiness.
My heart weeps when the eyes of strangers exhale sadness and pauses entirely when familiar eyes share the same sentiment.
Overwhelmed, I find myself stalled and indecisive. Planing an escape, my escape. Turning a blind eye with a removed sense of okay-ness, of perceived and assumed solution.
I care about the trees, the plants in my house lining the window sill and the animals who have no home. Those who are thrown aside, often to die, alone, like trash. Speaking of trash, I care about that, too. Why is there a crushed 7/11 cup in my yard? Do people understanding trash goes SOMEWHERE. Are we really using the things we need? Is there a better way? I know there is a better way.
I deeply care about equality. The passion the burns the brightest burns for fairness and justice. Maybe it’s my Libra nature, maybe that is the pain I’ve seen in the eyes of the struggling, a familiar fight, either way I care about that.
I care about self-awareness—the greatest gift we can give ourselves, our people, and the world. The moments I’ve spent in solitude and asanas, writing words of senseless streaming thought, crying tears of rage and healing, and listening to humbling advice have my strength to make space and accept my freedom. I hope others can know that liberation.
I care about kindness and compassion. Letting go and remembering I am human. There is a lot to be said about intention, even more about action. I’ve been told I am an idealist, so was the man who had a dream.
So, now what? As I stand at the precipice of passion and action. “To know when to bend, and when to leap, when to bow out and when to hurl our passions like buckets of paint across a stage.”
When the task seems overwhelming and more than I can handle. I remember above everything else to simply be kind.
Kindness is the umbrella I break out when I’m not sure I can endure the rains of humanities heartache.