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Photo by Samuel Zeller on Unsplash

I know you are tired. I’m tired, too. 

I know there does not seem to be enough of you, or enough of the day, or perhaps there is too much of the day. You come home and take off your shoes and lean in your chair, and it is not the relief of hours well used that you feel, or the exhale of your soles, but a breath allowed. Stillness. You gather.

I know you wake and reach for your phone before you look out the window, not in idleness, as before, but alarm. What does daybreak bring? What will it demand of your wounds? Will you be up to the task?

I know you are caught between moralities, the multitudes. What a time to live in this schism of a world. Both sides of a globe feel right-side-up, after all. Surely, one must be upside-down.

I know you are angry. It lives in our skin. 

I know the fear. It is my fear, too.

You are not alone here. 

The days are too short or perhaps too long but in them you have company. My, we should have come sooner. 

What they won’t tell you is that the real legacy of the past eight years is not policy but understanding. It is not a thing to be tamed. It is here because we are here. The legacy is not in the position, but in the power. 

I know that it is working. 

Take the stillness. Allow the breath. Let the anger warm. Let it sweat. 

What do you bring to the daybreak? We can rise up to meet it. Yes, we can.

Yes, we must.

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