A Love Letter


Dear loved ones,

The past couple days have been loud, very loud. Red voices, blue voices, analysts, the fear-mongering voices, and the voice of our biggest fear anointed with seemingly unlimited power -- all screaming to get our attention or shut us up. Underneath the cacophony of the yelling there’s the finger pointing. On the other end of the finger, backed into a corner, a soft but full orchestra of communal sobs. The past few days have been very loud.

Your social media feed may be oscillating with stories of crying grief, whispered trauma, and violently loud silencing. You might have been goaded into screaming back. It might have been all you could do to sit back, curl up, and cover your ears.

Over the past couple of days it might have seemed like fear and shame did, in fact, kill love as it has been fought for, as it stands, and as its hope for a bright future. But there are victories, big and small, all around to remind us of our hopeful resilience to band together with love and kindness. 

Through all this noise you may have found it hard to check in with your breath. We want to remind you that it’s there and has been consistently renewing you in moments when it seemed impossible to conceive of a four year survival story. Seeing the shadow of a hand poised to strip love of its agency, it may have been difficult to ground to your heartbeat. We’d like to remind you that it’s been beating, through it all, keeping time and meter and balance as we continue to move forward.

We don’t think we need to explain to you how to survive because, well, you have. We just want to remind you that you do. Every. Damn. Day. That survival is so much more than enough.

The day is almost over and it is okay to feel exhausted. President Obama remarked in his speech last night, “the sun will rise again,”  and sure enough, we saw the sun peek through the heavy clouds this morning signifying that it’s a new day. It’s okay if we’re not ready for these next steps, today is all about breathing through it.

In solidarity,

Traci + Kristel