From the Border
As I write I'm sitting on a patio in Ajo, AZ. A small, artistic, desert town about 50 miles from the border.
I don’t know if I can possibly convey how much being here right now has cracked me wide open. I’m raw like I have never been before. At times it hurts so much I feel like I’m having a heart attack. And then I know the tears will soon flow.
To witness the destruction and lack of awareness and concern for all of life is beyond words.
I will have no more patience for people who sit home and watch the news and then try to tell me why this has to happen. THIS DOES NOT NEED TO HAPPEN.
And yet I know I can’t lose hope. We can’t lose hope. Without hope they have won. The ones that want us to feel divided, separate from the landscape, the wildlife, each other, ourselves. I won’t lose hope. Instead I think of all of those down here everyday watching for others in need, getting arrested for leaving water, for protecting their sacred ancestral land, and I’m grateful and empowered. Ready to take the next stand. Not from a place of anger and hatred, because if I occupy that space, again they win. But taking a stand from a place of deep love and a solid sense of right and truth.
I’m grateful for those of you also walking this path. Know my heart is wide open and I’ll keep pushing forward, knowing that we are at this breaking point because through this incredible pain there is light.