When The Weight Gets To Heavy?

I don’t remember the last moment I was actually laugh out loud, floating on the top of the world happy.

Since Covid19 became a normal part of everyday life,  I for the most part have been able to stay relatively positive, picked up a couple new hobbies: indoor gardening and podcasting, worked on practicing health care ( mediation, diffusing essential oils, spontaneous dance parties, naps) and over all coping with the changes of adjusting from a busy working mom to not so busy stay-at-home mom, teacher etc.

And then the world flipped on its head again making finding balance impossible. The  world  put on an endless loop of a media cycle of  black men being lynched:

Lynch: verb. 1. To put to death, especially by hanging, mob action and without legal authority.

In broad day light and what feels like instantly the world imploded with arguments from both side. Cries of pain and demands of justice on one side and arguments of doubts and buts.. to deflect accepting hard and ugly truths about our country on the other.

And just as quickly my status updated to a stay at home Black mother trying to not only help my girls keep up with their school work but now navigate a world that shows such blatant disregard for them as human beings because of the color of their skin. Struggling with how to instill in them that they need to work hard, harder in fact  because they are Black woman and the intersectionality of those two titles come with obstacles of their own that are not impossible to overcome but require more, but now I am having conversations with my teenage daughters trying to explain in a way that makes sense we live in a country were you can do everything right and still be shot in the jogging down street, shot in your home or strangled on the ground with a knee in your throat for 9 heart-wrenching, excruciating minutes by the very system that claims to serve and protect and they won’t even flinch doing it, and those same people can get away without consequence. Which is why people are outraged and protesting in the streets and on social media, begging for equality, crying for justice with the promise of no peace until it is seen. While others will go on with their unaffected lives, subtly letting Black people your not important, or argue for blue lives, or for peaceful protest (louder then the out right message between the lines reads “Black people stay in your place”).

People choosing their comfort, tuning out our voices, our pain letting us know our lives are not of value.

How can you self care in a hostile environment. How do you find peace when the tears of your pleas for help won’t stop. How can you rest when you can’t breathe…

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