For more than six hours, the heart reeled from the sting of the word.
“Abandoning.”
An accusation and judgment laid. Guilt tripping at its finest. Those in power know the tricks to play. The heart is a muscle so it cannot break. The mind knows that. But the heart can certainly tear. And tear it did. It’s hard to tell whether this will be the opening or closing argument. Acts continue in the play so why shouldn’t a trial of such magnitude be the same?
Let’s be clear: I’m no deserter.
Since the desert lit the fire and city lights sparked the urgency, life has been lived in purpose. Purpose in meaning. Purpose in direction. Purpose in acceptance. That last one took priority this year when the waters became infested with personifications of deep-seated insecurity trying to swim against the tide. The tides were intimidating, so the saying went and rumors spread.
Purpose in acceptance. This is no serenity prayer. Acceptance will not be acceded when the lines of common sensibility are crossed. It becomes more and more evident that power has little regard for such sensibilities. Common or otherwise. Perhaps that is how power stays. Lines have been crossed. Acceptance of the crossing of the lines was refused. An act of simple refusal.
It was only an act of mere resistance. In a world dominated by the ravishes of right-handed power, the left-hand looked for a chance to simply survive the boulders hailed down. To try and not be crushed by the force of the impact. To move away from the continual slaps on the face. In a life built on heavy doses of sarcasm and pacifism, the only option left for the heart was refusal to entertain the whims and fancies of the insecure. The game becomes less fun but sanity becomes more secure.
They should know it is not about them. The they who were told to find joy on Tuesday. The they who are looking for answers about being problems or solutions. The they who are thinking deeply and still speaking freely. Che once said that the “true revolutionary is guided by strong feelings of love.” How then could there be abandonment? Common sensibility dictates that the love will go on. There is no other way. There cannot be.