3 Ring Circus

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This post was surprisingly harder than most. I can’t quite capture how utterly panicked I am about the state of modern day politics in the US and the Bahamas. We are now 8 months out from the US general election and (presumably) 14 months or so out from the Bahamas’s general election. Yet I am completely, utterly exhausted with it all. But it’s like I can’t escape from the 24-hr news cycle of doom. One or the other is making news for the new lows elected leaders and those jockeying for elected positions are willing to go.

So here’s where the shit hits the fan for me:

I assumed Americans would see pass the toxic sideshow of Donald Drumpf months ago and force him into the footnotes of political circus-dom. I assumed the deep-seated levels of apathy in Bahamians would finally be broken by the blatant corruption and lack of accountability in our governmental ranks. These assumptions have proven wrong…thus far (but please prove me wrong).

Instead, all I continue to see are core values of equality, basic human respect, compassion, tolerance, progressive social responsibility, and good old fashioned justice disappearing faster and faster.

So is it me? Am I getting something wrong?

Some stories give me hope that people are fighting against the tides of corruption, bigotry, fear-mongering, and demagoguery. But mostly I feel exceptionally pessimistic, which is not a default setting for me. And I honestly don’t know what to do.

At best I try to remember that others have not given up. I try to think about all the courageous people I know who strive every day to actively make our world a little less cruel and a lot more equal. Those who are activists in heart, mind and action, and speak out against all forms of injustice. I wonder how they do it every day. Because while I am tired, I recognize that I haven’t even begun a fraction of the work they have done. And the longer I sit on the proverbial sidelines, the more ashamed I feel. There is so much work to be done. What am I doing to help besides feeling sorry for the state of things? What are any of us doing besides complaining?

 

“The opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it’s indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it’s indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it’s indifference.” ― Elie Wiesel

Photo credit: Ringling Bro. Circus

Becoming

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Be easy.
Take your time.
You are coming
Home.
To yourself

 

– “the becoming | wing” by Nayyirah Waheed

 

Growth can feel tedious, exhausting and unfair at times. Especially when it is punctuated by loss. As I’ve talked about before, no one warns you about the amount of mourning there is in growth. And maybe no one has to…

This poem gives me hope more than anything else. The idea is that as difficult and soul-crushing as growth and change can be, try to be easy on yourself. Treat yourself as kindly as you wished the universe would sometimes. Be compassionate and soothing to yourself in ways you haven’t received from those you trusted. Just know: no amount of warning can change what needs to be experienced.

Know that taking your time is elemental to happiness. Because movement is happening. Even if you feel despairingly stuck. Even if you feel like you’ve diverged from the dream you had for yourself, for love, for your career, for communion with friends. Movement is there, always. You are coming home. And home: home is the purest form of who you need to be in this world and who the world needs you to be. Home is protective and empowering. Home is love that endures.

Home is you.

Video Project: February 2016

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February was a great month for so many reasons. The month started with me cutting all my hair off and ended with a leap day of sunshine. Somewhere in the middle, we wished an old friend good luck as she starts a new journey in Australia, and I forgot to film Feb. 26.

I think one of the most fascinating side effects of this project is me opting in so much more. Those who know me well know that I’m more likely to be found in quiet spaces (namely, my bed) or with close friends, than out & about in a crowd of a hundred strangers. I often find all the ways possible to opt out of flashy social events, for fear that I won’t enjoy it or that my awkward turtle-ness will come out. But with this project, I find myself saying “yes” more often to invitations; if only to get a good video clip. But maybe that’s okay. There’s a world to be explored and captured. I should be opting in more often. So with that: here’s February 2016. A month full of being brave. 

Gratitude in a Bottle

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For the past week or so, I’ve been feeling not so great. It’s been a roller coaster of emotions trying to come to terms with the end of a relationship. Although I was the one to ultimately end things, finding out that my ex is definitely in a relationship with someone else made me feel both hollowed out and brimming with pain. But most insidious of all, I felt wholly insufficient. Deep seas of tears were made. Adele was sung.

In sum: things felt painfully unforgiving.

It was in this context that I went on a quick work trip to DC, my old stomping grounds. To say my heart immediately felt lighter would be an understatement. It surprised even me. To return to a place that was familiar and full of memories was exactly what I needed. Even better, I used as much of my limited free time to reconnect with friends that have come to feel like a second home. Friends that continuously inspire me with their intellect, compassion & general bad ass-ness.

I was instantly grateful that this trip landed in my lap when it did. I left home feeling truly beat down and emotionally hollow; I returned feeling like I’d caught gratitude in a bottle for the first time. I was present and appreciative. I was open and engaged. And it felt authentic.

As I walked back to my hotel on my last night there, it was chilly and the city was relatively quiet. With a moment to reflect, I realized how deeply full I felt, for the first time in a long time.

I would like to continue that walk, metaphorically and otherwise.

“I give myself a good cry if I need it, but then I concentrate on all good things still in my life.” ― Morrie Schwartz, Tuesdays with Morrie

Adulting Poorly

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There was a moment in the first few weeks of freshman year when two people in my dorm got incredibly drunk and the situation got destructive, chaotic, and dangerous. As things unfolded, I remember it was the first time I ever felt, “Where are all the adults? Who are we supposed to depend on to deal with this shit show?”

That feeling I had once all those years ago, now happens daily. It happens every time I read the newspaper and see the ways in which politicians engage with one another and with the citizens of my country.

“Where are all of the adults?”

Don’t get me wrong, my criticism spreads widely across all political parties and every individual. People are dying on the streets, begging for some relief and all we see are sparring matches, ego stroking, and shit show creation from the ones who should be dealing with the issues.

I don’t expect a government to solve all social and economic problems. That is not their mandate. But what is their mandate is to be accountable, responsible, and responsive to the needs of the people that elected them to office. This isn’t happening. Instead, our collective intelligence has been insulted every time:

  • answers are demanded but not given;
  • buildings get built and then left to rot;
  • legitimate claims of corruption are brought to light but carelessly dismissed;
  • crime spirals out of control (no link needed, just open up your group chat on WhatsApp);
  • we are forced to swallow policies that lack clarity;
  • and we are promised a solution will soon come.

Who exactly is in control here?

Someone I know has renamed Nassau as “Narnia”. It’s fitting. The situation has long become destructive, chaotic and dangerous. Since the day I moved home, I’ve been faced with the dilemma of staying at home long term in an effort to positively affect our environment, or just getting the hell out of dodge. I know this is a dilemma many Bahamians feel and others have articulated it far more eloquently than I ever could (exhibit A).

But regardless of individual choices to stay or go, so much needs to change for anyone to have a future here. The adults need to grow up and show up.

(ps. I’ve become that person who hyperlinks in their writings. All may be lost)

“I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living.” ― Dr. Seuss

Happy New Year?

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For lack of a better word I’ve been feeling this roadblock in fearlessly embracing this new year. A hesitancy. I lost things that were so important to me this past year. Things I never intended to begin a new year without. Things I haven’t started a new year without since they first came into my life. Things that I know are now dead in their original form, but that doesn’t make the mourning any easier. To know something is gone is not the same as deeply accepting and making peace with that concept. At least, not yet.

So as people make these huge proclamations about how incredible this next year will be; how hard they will love; how many people they will celebrate with; the places they’ll travel; the growth they’ll explore; the freeness they’ll feel; and the goals they’ll accomplish – I can’t help but feel…a little sad and hesitant. As if I can’t possibly make those promises yet. I can’t possibly celebrate this new year. Because things still hurt. They are fresh. And things are gone.

Does anyone else feel this way?

I guess instead of seeing this moment in time as a roadblock to living life to the fullest, I will slowly and steadily push step by step. Because it’s not that I don’t think good things are coming for me, or that I don’t trust in the process of letting go and growing.

Its just…

”No one warns you about the amount of mourning in growth.” – Té V. Smith, Shut Up In My Bones

Private Domain

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I’m a private person, to say the least. I’m not big on sharing my inner thoughts, experiences, and concerns beyond a handful of my closest friends. For me, talking about events and ideas are so much easier than talking about what’s going on in my heart. Even social media has become a space for me to share articles on what’s going on in the world and to muse about baby animals. So to share of myself in this way feels terrifying.

But I’ve been reading and meditating more and more these days. And the things that have helped me most through this year of heartbreak, difficulties, and transition, have been reading the words of others who have experienced similar moments, endured them, and became fuller versions of themselves because of it.

So with that, I share myself with this space, in hopes that someone finds a thread of familiarity in my experiences.

This has been a year of endings. The biggest of which are the painful end to a 5 and a half years, on-and-off relationship and the drawn out end to my time in the US, leaving behind incredible friends and a sense of unbounded freedom. Both endings have felt raw, unjust, and unforgiving in their march towards their inevitable conclusion. To say I wished for a different outcome would be an understatement. And yet…here I am. Still standing. My hope for this next stage of my life is to find meaning in those endings, to not be bitter, and to be grateful for beginnings.

I imagine this blog will be many things or perhaps nothing at all. If you keep reading, I’ll probably muse about issues of politics, race and gender, returning back to the Bahamas, heartbreak, letting go of who we thought we were supposed to be, meditation, and the inevitable lost-ness we feel in our mid-twenties (and probably beyond – ugh). It will be a map of where I’ve been and where I hope to go. Feel free to join along for the ride.

Cheers to a year filled with magic & meditation.

Peace,

K

“I had diverged, digressed, wandered, and become wild…even in my darkest days, I saw the power of the darkness. Saw that, in fact, I had strayed and that I was a stray and that from the wild places my straying had brought me, I knew things I couldn’t have known before.” – Cheryl Strayed, Wild