This morning, still in my fuzzy pj’s, I blearily open the blinds of the big glass windows of my apartment. The freezing rain from the supposed “storm of the decade” has become a dripping, pooling mass on the wooden slats of my balcony outside.
Ice from the oak and sycamore trees beyond, is melting too. The world is softly blurred, a slow fog, lifting. From out of nowhere I hear the whisper of the first lines of a favorite song in my mind:
Begin to bleed”
It’s been a long road since the election. An artist friend tells me yesterday, “I wonder if I’ll ever get over my current state of bitterness”.
Her words were the echo of a sentiment I’d texted to a friend a few nights before: “I’m still traumatized by the election. I gotta admit it and face it. It feels like there is no moving forward, no healing from it.”
Begin to bleed
Begin to breathe,
Begin to speak.”
In November I’d written in my journal: “It’s impossible to write anything. Everything I thought I knew has been flipped upside down. Daily I try to wrap my head around it, to come to terms with it … My mind is hungry to understand, my heart is hungry to make peace, to find healing.”
Still I could not write anything beyond angry posts and snarky comments on Facebook. I could not find that place of peace or healing.
I responded to my artist friend, hoping to encourage her, but also to encourage myself, “Keep making art,” I wrote. “It’s important to bring more beauty into the world … always. That helps others heal too.”
This morning when my daughter went out to play with her friends I looked for, and found the song that had been echoing in my mind since I woke up:
“I am falling
Like a stone,
Like a storm,
Being born again
Into the sweet morning fog.”
To find art, to find beauty, I need look no further than my friends. They share intimate moments of goofiness and joy with their children and families. My photographer friends Vicki and Susie both captured pictures of the ice storm that were so beautiful that I asked for permission to post them here:
The seeds of peace, healing and love are contained within our own communities. Yes, in the moments of shared cat videos and silliness and joy. Maybe even more so in the moments in which we argue and clash and try to come to a new understanding of each other.
I thought that hope was lost in the election. I was wrong. I am beginning to feel hope again. I believe in the power of art to reveal the essential humanity in each one of us; to unlock the peace and healing we all need so badly.
What do you think? Is this blog relevant to you in any way? How do YOU feel about the election and its aftermath? Has it affected how you believe, feel and perceive the world? How are you coping? Do you have any ideas about how others can cope?
“D’you know what?
I love you better now.
And I’d love to hold you now.
I’ll kiss the ground.
I’ll tell my mother,
I’ll tell my father,
I’ll tell my loved one,
I’ll tell my brothers
How much I love them.”
I hope if you have time you will listen to the song, “The Morning Fog” by Kate Bush: