Don’t Go Back to Sleep

The Breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
Don’t go back to sleep.
You must ask for what you really want.
Don’t go back to sleep.
People are going back and forth across the doorsill where the two worlds touch.
The door is round and open.
Don’t go back to sleep.
Rumi

How are you doing?

This is such a loaded question during the pandemic as we face our fears of death both literally and figuratively. We feel this as we witness strains on our healthcare systems, lack of living wages, and the shuttering of small businesses. This leads to more fears of institutional and social disintegration. We are facing the truth of our racial history and the prevailing systems of injustice as we watch in horror, yet again, of an innocent black man being murdered by officials who are supposed to keep us safe.

What is the world coming to? What kind of a future awaits our children? I find myself sitting with a general sense of unease. My stomach is churning. My heart is heavy and I wake up exhausted every morning.

Normally I would try to distract myself from this with work or play. But right now as I watch the looting and feel into the rage of my black brothers and sisters, I want to stay awake to the discomfort. I want to feel it in my bones and grieve what could have been but isn’t. I want to see my privileged part in this and wrestle with what is mine to do.

Vulnerability is calling me like a siren song.

Let go of your need to be right, look right, act right. Listen to what might be hard to hear. Allow the pain of generations of injustice to speak into you. Rest awhile in the truth of your historic complacency and allow it to have its way with you. Feel into the tenderness of not knowing what to do, how to think, what to be.

As a consultant, I know that there needs to be a sense of urgency for change to happen. Protests and tough conversations help to keep that urgency alive. Ultimately, feelings of discomfort and pain compel people to make changes. Change can be for the good when we can trust in and work for a better future. Or it can devolve into a survival of the fittest if we feel threatened and hopeless. I see we are teetering on the edge of either path right now.

One of the keys to a positive outcome is the capacity to trust in something beyond ourselves and our fears. This is particularly important when we find ourselves between the ending and the new beginning. This is the sweet spot of disintegration. That liminal space of chaos, the void out of which creation takes shape. I sense as a nation we are in that void right now. I sense that void in my own body as I sit with my own discomfort of not knowing. And I am wondering how we can collectively call upon our better angels so that we can stay awake during this birthing process.

These are some questions stirring inside of me.

• Can we acknowledge the death of the old systems and trust that the contractions of birth will lead to a new life?

• Can we allow for the pain and the grief to have its way with us in that in-between of what was and what could be?

• Can we put down our armor and open our hearts?

If I move too quickly into the future, my fear leads the way. However, if I can stay in this moment with tenderness and curiosity for myself and for others, a new way forward just might show itself. This requires me to literally come back to my body and my breath. As I breath, I remind myself of our common humanity and brokenness. This allows me to compassionately step through that round and open door with folks who don’t look like me.

I certainly don’t have all the answers, but I know for certain that I don’t want go back to sleep.