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I am sweeping vigorously. Mopping the spots and drips.
It’s always the movement.
In between the pushing and pulling of the mop the tears flow.
Troy Davis’s face flashes in my eyes.
Last night I heard the news. We executed this man.
7 of 9 recanted
A witness saying they were threatened by another not to come forward
No physical evidence
The night before Sept. 21, 2011
I was Dancing the mutuality of Love
Ecstatic embodiment
Wisdom
At the end of class I felt the whole world was healed
That there was enough for everyone
And no one had to resort to fear, violence or
“isms” of any kind.
My partner reacted to the news with disgust, anger, rallying against the powers that be.
His long time watching of the system, its flaws and the escalating of suffering.
I just wanted to stay with Troy.
The profound sadness that we failed this man.
I would rather be wounded by the suffering than hardened to it.
I will shout later.
Now, I feel the pain.
My traditions say that death is a celebration.
He is released from the samsara of suffering.
This I believe. But my sorrow remains.
It should remain. We have so far to go
and I am sad for all that we miss out on
by not reaching our potential
as Humans.
The Movement.
Rev. Al Sharpton writes this morning,
“to mourn without moving only compounds this most egregious injustice.”
This is the practice. How to move when hope is slayed. When failure has occurred.
May we all find this movement.
To turn within and heal.
To turn to the person next to us and extend our hand.
To keep Dancing the mutuality of Love
Especially while weeping.
