Danielle ColinThis kind of love
It's been almost a month since I've written anything for my blog. Today, I thought I'd try this again. So much has happened in the world during that month. My mind has been busy, my emotions, everywhere and my body, tired. Work and income look very different for me. I have been more quiet than usual and the words just don't come when I want them to even in regular conversation. I've been leaning into that quiet and painting more than I write. I've been resisting the idea that I should just work on all the things I suddenly have time for. For about a week, I rode that roller-coaster until I realized it was making me dizzy and I had to go back to the Ferris wheel. There have been some beautiful moments...Poetic Vibe still meeting on Zoom, the Poetic Vibe Live Poetry Marathon just a week ago, a Zoom call with my cousins all living in different area codes, paying rent from donations, love wearing a new, maybe even more honest face. I've cried the happy kind of tears for all of that.
Last night, I cried. This week, I learned about two deaths due to COVID-19 and more hospitalized in the communities I grew up in. These days, I speak to my parents on the phone every day. I don't think I've ever missed them the way I do now. I'm praying for my mom who still goes to work every day. I'm praying for my dad who is working hard to keep his congregation connected and believing. Both of them are immunocompromised. So am I. We never say it out loud what we know could happen. We love over the phone. Sometimes that sounds like my mother giving me ingredients for home remedies or my dad telling me to read Psalm 91. It's them asking if I went outside and me making sure they didn't go anywhere they didn't have to go. It's me staying here, a whole state away, when tomorrow is Easter and I've never spent that day without them. Last night, I cried. And even as I write this, there are tears streaming down my cheeks. Some days, the tears aren't so happy. There are things I remind myself of to get through each day:
Loving hard means keeping the people you love safe.
It's okay to feel, to cry, to laugh for no reason.
No one has a map on how to navigate this.
But a map isn't always necessary to land someplace better than before.
You do not have to create your seminal work right now.
Create to heal, to survive, to connect.
This is temporary however long that temporary may be or feel.
Even in this virtual world,
churches still congregate, open mics still happen, people still dance,
beauty still exists in the world.
You still exist in the world & you are beautiful.
You are loved.
If you are reading this, I hope the world is kinder to you today then it was yesterday. Be well, love hard and stay safe.