My husband found this lonely little plastic school chair all by itself underneath a tree while he was on a walk, recently. He had observed a certain strength about it, in its solitary state. It felt like it had a story, somehow. Most things that have been inside institutions do, after all; isn’t it funny how we can extend that logic even to the objects within them?
But I am not an object. I am a human being.
Far too often it has felt like I have had to clarify that fact for people around me. How I have great capacity to experience joy and sorrow, pain and pleasure- that I have an authority and a right to take up space in this world, too, as an equal to those who try and push me down- the people who have tried to make me feel less than. And who, at times, tricked me into believing that I was.
But I’m still here. I’m a survivor of this strange and miraculous world. And chances are, if you are reading this, so are you.
So perhaps that is why it felt so appropriate to sit upon that little chair, to be both distinct from it and in harmony with it; one object and one person, both still here, still existing- even if we’re both a little beaten up. This is me; I take up space and I refuse to apologize for it anymore. And it can be you, too.
I invite you, whomever you may be, to join me on the journey towards speaking freely and unapologetically in this world- recognizing our power and capacity as people to use our voices to help and not harm, to make a difference. What a miracle it is to be alive, one day at a time.
It is okay to be here.
Peace and Prosperity to All,