Those are Joy Harjo’s words, from “Reconciliation, A Prayer”, a poem she wrote for Audre Lorde’s memorial service in 1993. I have been meditating on those words as the year booms along and the tasks seem to multiply. A work party last night. Some New Year’s cleaning for my parents over in their assisted living facility. New projects, old projects, health issues, family pressures… I am sorry to report that I found myself feeling irritated when I was with my parents, discomfited by how slowly everything moves in their world now. Phew! Just breathe a moment! How grateful I am that they are safe and warm and happy and engaged. How grateful I am.
Yesterday, I met with a young queer who is going to help me with some technology for one of my projects. We were commiserating about how much there is we care about, how much there is to do. She was concerned that she just hasn’t done enough social justice work in her life. I suggested that her being out at work, to her family and friends, in daily life, and in her many and varied art and other ventures, is a powerful form of social justice in and of itself. This is something I tend to forget myself, although I fully believe it to be true.
A long time ago, I was doing some volunteer work with an organization that captured feral cats, neutered or spayed them, and let them go again. It was close to where I lived and I really liked going over to the office to stuff envelopes or whatever else they needed, especially since there were always cats hanging out and sitting on whatever it was you were trying to do. This was around when the whole Anita Hill insanity was going on, and one day when I was feeling particularly upset, I burst out to my then-boyfriend that I felt like an idiot going over to the cat office when so much else needed to be done. This sweet man, who I did love but just not like that, remarked mildly that it seemed to him that I was doing something good and helpful for the world, and that that was a positive and healing thing to do. He gently counseled me not to dismiss or minimize any gesture of love.
My sweet femme sisters, do you dismiss your own acts of love because you are worried they’re not enough? Do you minimize your unique and generous moments of kindness; your lifetimes of love? Are you constantly feeling that you should be doing more, different, better?
Oh, darlings, breathe! Let your energy sink and connect to the earth’s core. Raise your eyes to the tips of the trees, to the clouds, to the unending. Feel peace bubble up in your beautiful bodies. Retune to the beat of your infinitely precious hearts.
Rest in gratitude, rest in the truth of Joy Harjo’s beautiful words, words honoring our brilliant and beautiful queer genius, Audre Lorde. Pray with me:
“All acts of kindness are lights in the war of injustice.”
Every Monday, I offer a Meditation for Queer Femmes in the spirit of my maternal grandmother, Mimi, who was fabulous, kind, and wise and from whom I inherited her Meditations for Women.
At the Total Femme, my intention is to post three times a week: Meditations for Queer Femmes on Monday, Pingy-Dingy Wednesday on Wednesday and Femme Friday on Friday. Rather than play catch-up in a stressful fashion on those weeks when life prevents posting, I have decided to just move gaily forward: if I miss a Monday, the next post will be on Wednesday, and so on. Thank you, little bottle of antibiotics for inspiring me in this! (“…if it’s almost time for the next dose, skip the missed dose and continue your regular dosing schedule. Don’t take a double dose to make up for a missed one.”)
The Total Femme 