May We See a Free Palestine

and other thoughts on keeping hope alive

It’s that time of year again where I fuck up my Spotify algorithm to no end by listening to the Charlie Brown Holiday Music playlist 99% of the time. I’ve been doing this for a few years, so my suggested playlists are always throwing their hands up at me as if to say, “What is it you want from us?!” as they confusedly combine Vince Guaraldi with Kacey Musgraves and 6LACK. I don’t hate it, but the algorithm seems stressed. I find that it often mirrors what’s going on in my own brain, and this continues to be an intense season of feeling very disoriented. Thanks for the solidarity, Spotify.

I am trying my best to keep hope alive in a lot of different ways right now.

I am hoping that my continued efforts toward forgiving and understanding and accepting myself are fruitful, and that a safer and more stable emotional rhythm is possible for me.

I am hoping that my relationships continue to grow and thrive despite the fact that I am on a mental health journey that often makes me want to shrink down to the size of a mouse and run away into the forests to take my chances on either living in a tiny moss house or being eaten by a crow.

I am hoping that our collective voices are loud enough at this time to enact deeply needed change.

I’ve ventured onto Instagram here and there to see what I’m missing, and largely what I am missing is sharing the pain and grief regarding what is happening to members of our global family in Palestine and Israel. I am at once grateful to not be inundated with a lot of confusing and upsetting opinions regarding the situation but also deeply craving more access to resources and information, which Instagram is largely pretty good with if you’re following the right people. So I’ve gone on to gather resources - who to donate to, who to call or write to, how to help, and then retreated back into my space. But I know I am not alone in saying that sleep has been difficult to come by lately as my heart tears open again and again for those who are being so painfully oppressed and threatened. I find myself often at a loss for what to do, or feeling like I am not doing enough, but I remember one of my favorite quotes of all time from legendary theater activist Anne Bogart - “We cannot afford inaction due to despair.” I repeat this to myself every time I begin to feel overwhelmed. My overwhelm is nothing compared to the fear of the families whose lives are being uprooted and taken away from them in such horrific, inhumane ways.

We cannot afford inaction due to despair.

We can take our despair and let it break our hearts and isolate us or we can take our despair and realize the depth and power of our hearts, how much love we have to give and how resilient and capable we can be for each other, and we can empower ourselves and those around us to do something - anything - for those who cannot help themselves. This is especially true now, and will be true as long as we are living. I know that the pain of this world will never go away, which is a thought that threatens to crush me regularly, but I was born into privilege and I must not take that for granted, and neither should you. I may not fully understand half of what I read while investigating the history and politics (not just in this situation, but in most), but it doesn’t take much to arrive to the conclusion that our government, most/all governments, put profit before people, and that no matter what’s going on or who believes in what, all life is sacred and everyone deserves safety. It astounds me that there are folks out there who do not understand this. It is not complicated.

May we see peace in the Middle East.

May we see a free Palestine.

May we see safety and clean water and plenty of food and strong housing and equal rights and generously shared resources for all of our global communities.

Marlee Grace’s weekly newsletter provides a fantastic list of resources if you are unsure of how to help. If you are overwhelmed by the sheer amount of resources, start with one. Just one. And then keep going.

Don’t forget to cry. Don’t forget to rage. Don’t forget to make your art and build your furniture and cook your breakfasts. In everything you do, hold hope in your heart while you also hold what is breaking and you will continue to see how these things work in tandem to alchemize one another.

“Deep practice is slow, demanding and uncomfortable. To practice deeply is to live deliberately in a space that is uncomfortable but with the encouraging sense that progress can happen.”
― Anne Bogart, What's the Story: Essays about art, theater and storytelling

I love you. Til next time.