I thought Resistance might be a good topic to follow Susan's prompt on Courage last week. This is a time for both courage and resistance - peaceful resistance to situations which can often feel overwhelming. I thought Portland's heartlifting response to militia arriving in their city, donning frog and animal costumes and dancing in front of the soldiers, was brilliant.
I came across this wisdom from Hopi Chief White Eagle the other day about our current situation:
′′This moment humanity is experiencing can be seen as a door or a hole. The decision to fall in the hole or walk through the door is up to you. Take the perspective of an eagle that sees everything from above with a broader view. There is a social question in this crisis, but also a spiritual question. The two go hand in hand.
"Learn resistance from the example of Indian and African peoples: we have been and are [being] exterminated. But we never stopped singing, dancing, lighting a fire and rejoicing.
"Joy is a resistance strategy. Show resistance through art, joy, trust and love.”
“Show resistance through art, joy, trust, and love.”
That sounds mighty fine to me.
For today, write whatever arises in you from reading these words. I constantly struggle to resist the negativity of these times. I find my solace in the beauty of the natural world. And poetry!
What helps you resist? Where do you turn for solace? What holds your heart
steady in these turbulent and unjust times?
You might prefer to use the word resistance in its non-political meaning: a force which acts to slow or stop the progress of something. I look forward to reading whatever comes.
Some inspiration:
In a time of hate
Love is an act of resistance.
In a time of fear
Faith is an act of resistance.
In a time of misinformation
Education is an act of resistance.
In a time of poor leadership
Community is an act of resistance.
In a time like this
Joy is an act of resistance.
Resist. Resist. Resist.
Douse every conversation with
unexpected kindness.
people have grown hard because they
are sad and sad because they are tired
and tired because they are breaking.
and into the smallest spaces
and past the "no trespassing" signs.
and seeping with compassion and
splash over all of the edges.
of you is contagious,
because oh beautiful spirit, it is.
Without asking who deserves it.
courage left, an ounce of breath,
an ounce of a hopeful chorus,
rattling inside of your bones --
when the world is on fire, be water.
Artist unknown
Last night I dreamed
ten thousand grandmothers
from the 1200 corners of the Earth
walked out into the gap,
one breath deep
between the bullet and the flesh,
between the bomb and the family.
They told me
We cannot wait for governments.
There are no peacekeepers boarding planes.
There are no leaders who dare to say
Every life is precious,
so it will have to be us.
They said
We will cup our hands around each heart.
We will sing the earth's song, the song of water,
a song so beautiful that vengeance
will turn to weeping,
the mourners will embrace,
and grief replace
every impulse toward harm.
Ten thousand is not enough, they said,
so we have sent this dream,
like a flock of doves
into the sleep of the world.
Wake up. Put on your shoes.
You who are reading this,
I am bringing bandages
and a bag of scented guavas from my trees.
I think I remember the tune.
Meet me at the corner.
Let's go.
~Aurora Levins Morales
I feel the grief she speaks of is already here. Now we work towards healing and transformation.
