Yesterday we went to the city to walk. Portland is a river city and we love walking the length of it, crossing and recrossing the river on the many bridges. Going anywhere by foot changes your view of a place, takes you into a sensory experience far different than rolling by enclosed in a car. We intended to stay near the waterfront, which is a pedestrian-friendly, beautiful space that attracts joggers and strollers, but when we got there I found I wanted to go deeper into the downtown core. The last few nights have been violent there, fire and anger; I wanted to see the aftermath for myself. The city already feels surreal, stripped of its business people and tourists by the pandemic. Those who remain are the ones who have nowhere else to go. We passed tents and camps, street preachers and ravers, a woman lost in some kind of trance, dancing herself free of her clothes, countless sleeping bodies slumped against walls or stretched out in doorways. Grafitti was everywhere, the same few messages repeated over and over: “I can’t breathe.” “F*** the cops.” We passed a couple of police officers, walking slowly, heads down in conversation, each with an unconscious hand over their holstered guns. Men in hard hats were pulling broken glass from windows, replacing it with sheets of plywood. No one was smiling, no one was making eye contact. There was a palpable grief in the air. I found myself unconsciously placing my hands at my heart in the Anjali mudra (prayer position), breathing deep, exhaling a prayer of peace into the streets as we walked them. I live so far from those streets, in every way, but these are all my neighbors, every one, and I wanted to join them somehow, in some small way.

I’m not suggesting there’s anything noble in walking nearly-empty streets in the aftermath of the struggle, I’m only saying I live far from so much of the collective pain in our world and I need a way in. I need to pinch my flesh, wake it up, quit thinking that my life is the status quo instead of the privileged exception. (Honestly, I feel like curling up in the fetal position and plugging my ears until it’s over, but that, too is a privilege not granted to my neighbors.)

For those of you who are feeling the same, a few links:

~ Want a reminder to connect? Helen shares her heart.

~ Want to do more than post social media memes and outrage? Mireille Cassandra’s 10 Steps to Non-Optical Allyship

~ Want to do something? Colin Kaepernick has been leading with non-violent and effective protest for years now. He holds camps to train young Black and Brown people to do the same and to be safe in interactions with police. Consider supporting his work.

Or take a look at Campaign Zero.

~ Want to understand? Ibram X Kendi’s work is well worth the time.

“Americans have long been trained to see the deficiencies of people rather than policy. It's a pretty easy mistake to make: People are in our faces. Policies are distant. We are particularly poor at seeing the policies lurking behind the struggles of people.”

Love to you, my friends. This is heavy work, life-time work, so be gentle as you go. Breathe, pray, turn off the hourly updates, connect with real people, remember small changes are vital too. xoxo