I probably have twenty minutes before my breathlessness closes me down for the day.
Here’s what I wish for this day: that I can use these minutes to keep moving it forward, for my voice, my story to make your gut feel like you have to stand up and do something about it.
You KNOW what it is. If it makes you squirm, that’s it. If it makes your heart soar, that’s it. If you hear in the early hours a quiet voice in your soul saying words that you KNOW are true, you KNOW these are the right words, so you must make sure these words are heard.
We live in trying times. People are dying. We live in a time when people risk their lives to protest a racism that has existed too long in our history, racism that was hidden in plain sight, a racism that was made to seem like the norm. The stories of that racism are horrifying, but we also learned that we’ve been cruel in the myriad ways we spoke. We live in a time when women finally speak out against the hands that reached out and offensively grabbed us, against the voices that interrupted us, against the implication that we were owned, overlooked, and overcome. The stories we women tell make your toes curl. We live in a time when the disabled lie protesting at the Speaker’s door in an attempt to keep healthcare that keeps them alive. We live in a time when people can marry who they want and wear the clothes that represent them and no one’s judgmental ideas about religion can stop them.
We live in trying times, but we can do the work to make the world a better place. That is the quiet voice that I hear in the early morning when I can’t sleep. That is the story that curls my toes and makes me KNOW we have to do more even when I’m tired and feel hopeless. Sometimes, when I see thousands of us marching in the streets, when I see someone who shouts what is right, or whispers, my heart soars and I KNOW I’m on the right path.
Find your right path and march alongside me in making this the trying time in which we changed the world because we KNEW it was the right thing to do. We KNEW.
Thank you for listening, jules