Earth Experiences #4: The DNC

Finding joy in the moment

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Staying quiet and still in order to heal is challenging for me. I want to be doing things: reading, writing, swimming, pickleball-ing, going out to eat, listening to live music. My body is obviously unable to do all those things right now, but my mind is unable to work as it should, too. The pain medication and muscle relaxers I’m on make me fuzzy and tired. As eager as I am to get my body working again, I’m even more eager to reclaim my mind. I feel powerless and weak when my brain is compromised.

It’s even been challenging for me to Substack. There are so many beautiful things that are written here—things I want to ingest and savor. But savoring takes time and attention, and although I have the time right now, my attention is everywhere but focused. And when I sit down to read, I just want to sleep. I understand that’s my physical body healing, but it’s frustrating.

I have, however, been able to watch a great deal of the DNC in between naps. I’m not having many Earth Experiences in this healing body right now, but I’m definitely having a Heart Experience.

It feels like joy and excitement and hope and progress.

I’m paying attention to the way they pulse through my body, these feelings.

We’ve been living in the shadow of Trump’s vile, cruel, fear-mongering, angry, divisive world for so long that a breath of fresh air and happiness feels like a lifeline, like pure oxygen. I’m hearing the word “patriot” and the chants of “USA” and they’re evoking feelings of pride and hope in me instead of feelings of fear and disgust.

I’m writing postcards for Kamala and Tim and reveling in the way my fingers feel on my pen, the physical act. What I’m doing isn’t much, but it’s something. It’s movement. It’s action. I realize there is still so much to do, but for this exquisite moment, I am celebrating our country again. It’s been so long since I’ve been able to say or feel that. To believe in it. To believe in us.

The Trump flags are still flying all around me, the bumper stickers are still on full display, and the shirts are on many backs in central Florida, but I can see my people, my community out there, gathered in Chicago. I know they exist. I remember. And for now, it’s enough.