It’s important to me at this time (and, in fact, forever and always) to shine a hope for peace and equality for all.
We are one.
And though this song sings an Australian story, I sing it to the world. Because I am me, I am not on any one side; to me there are no two sides.
Today, we speak for our beautiful black lives: who matter now, and always have mattered. Tomorrow, perhaps we might speak for each and every life touched by the closed eyes (and heart) of intolerance.
For the less obvious among society who have been oppressed and eye rolled entire lifetimes long, often suffering in silence:
* the sensitives and empaths of the world.
* the quirky/odd ones.
* the wildlings.
* the nerds.
Mainstream society is very good at identifying the obvious marginalised groups and fighting for their inclusion and acceptance.
It’s time, though, to dig deeper by asking:
Who am I intolerant of?
Are they not human, also? Like me?
We are all worthy of being seen through neutral eyes, and we are all worthy of forgiveness and being held through our darkest days.
Embracing our individuality, and separating from the rigid judgements and expectations of mainstream culture, ironically, seems to be the way to remember we are one.
Being kind to ourselves, and our fellow humans as we work through our kinks, might also be a lovely thing.
So much love, my beautiful bloggy friends.
I’ll stop with my little bursts of unsolicited opinion, now, because I trust that everything in life happens for a reason. I trust that everyone finds the exact experiences they need in order to shine exactly the way they were always meant to.
Why, then, did I post this particular contradictory blog post?
‘Look, Sun! The humans are telling stories again,’ said Moon as she picked through the glimmering blue ripples at her feet, sorting each loose shard into piles of keep or discard.
‘Oh goody! You know how I love storytime,’ said Sun, as he slid off the swing and left it to dangle between the car cloud and the witch cloud.
‘Oh, Sun,’ Moon’s heart fell as her eyes drifted back to the group of humans gathered below. ‘Today, the humans are talking about our beautiful friend, Raven. But instead of seeing his beauty like we do, they are frightened of him. They’ve put him in a little box called ‘Black magic and death.’
‘Well, why would they do a ridiculous thing like that, Moon? Raven is no different than Cat, or Dog, or Fish. The humans have put them in the safe, family, home box.’
Moon smiled gently into Sun’s eyes.
‘Sun, humans tell stories for all sorts of reasons. And often the stories they tell hide the truth of what actually exists in front of them. When we look at Raven, all we see is a beautiful bird, because we’ve never put Raven in the box of black magic and death. The humans can’t help but see him differently, because that’s the box they were told he belongs in. ‘
Sun gazed at the woman that gently glimmered before him. How he loved her for the new eyes she had given him, and even though he didn’t know how he knew, every storytime brought them closer to seeing the truth of their own shared story box.
Speak your truth. It’s really quite simple when you think about it, isn’t it? So why, then, do we—us human folk—have so many issues following through? I don’t want you, for a moment, to think that this wisdom I’m about to share is coming from a place of knowing because it’s not. Part of my truth is this: I know nothing for certain. All I know is my world; who I was then, who I am now, and who I want to be.
I know music moves me. I know I love sunshine and rainbows, pig-tails and overalls. I know I feel the overwhelming need to offer the tradesman in the lounge room the left-over fried rice because I so strongly believe in the magic of kindness. And, most importantly…I know I’m finally ready to speak my truth.
About all of it.
To anyone who cares enough to listen and hear.
We’re all different, aren’t we, us small children in adult bodies (and I really do think that’s what we are.) We’re all so gloriously odd, so delightfully unique—how could we ever have one truth? Love, I’m pretty sure, is the one truth that we all share. So why do we insist on judging each other for daring to be different?
One size fits all? It’s a mentality that’s wounded me. And it’s a mentality that’s wounded us, as a people, I’m going to be so bold as to say. How many of us go through life being just exactly who we are, without being influenced by others? None of us. Not-one-of-us. This is the world we’ve been born into. A world that, thus far, has been content with the game of following the leader: fashion trends, popular music—one size fits all (or at least, large groups of us).
I understand that I’m not saying anything new, here. But this is something that’s been on my mind, of late, so I felt it was important to share with you all. Because a society that thinks from a limited perspective is a buzz-kill that I’m just not sure I want to do anymore. Guys. Isn’t life far too short to suffer from any kind of bullshit, at all? (Omg. Truth.)
It has taken thirty-five years for me to find myself beneath the mud of other people’s louder noises. And the scary thing is that unless the world unclogs its drain pipes, clears away some of the icky sticky mess I’ve been wading in for far too long…I’ll probably get lost again. And again. And again.
I sense things are changing, though. As a collective, we seem to be thinking about things a little more, acting with our hearts a little more, too, maybe. That’s been nice to see, and it gives me so much faith that us humans really can turn all the muddy business around. If we’ve been able to unite in the name of fashion and pop-culture, then we will unite in the name of humanity, of course we bloody will. We’ve got this. Let’s do it.
Let’s do it so that our kids won’t have to look around and wonder if they’re allowed to be who they really are. Let’s show them that they are allowed to speak their truth. Simple. Surely there is nothing more wonderfully wonderful than that kind of freedom.