Thursday, September 14, 2017
violence, truth, love... you know
With every ounce of suffering I'm experiencing, I feel like I'm growing entire limbs of empathy. I bought myself a slice of cake tonight. I don't even like cake. But I felt really rebellious and childlike buying it, and when you've had knots in your stomach and knives in your throat for 48 hours solid, cake matters.
Alexander is my heart music. Like, when I want to sway in my room and cry, he's the one. This song was the only thing that could loosen my ice-cold heart today. Half-lotioned, half-clothed, hair wet, (finally showered), I cranked this song as loud as it would go and let my stomach hang as free as possible. I felt like I was carrying a child of grief inside me. And I danced. Wailed for like, 7 seconds. Then finished getting dressed and left for work.
I came home and landed on my roommates' couch where two sweet hearts snuggled mine for a bit. And finally, I found words for all the sadness that's been welling up within me. They bumbled out through tears:
Him caring more about having his desires met than my sense of safety or health... it's not just selfish, it's violent.
Demand is truly the root of violence. "Or else" energy. Force, in order to get what you want. Tantrums, out lashes, threats, manipulative words... they're all pens of... violence.
But when I remain voiceless or act powerless, that's its own form of violence, too. It's an internalized force; a contracting of self so that I'm more agreeable, and therefore, in my mind more lovable. Compliance is my contribution to the equation...
Demand + Compliance = Violence
It truly takes two.
I'm going to talk to him, I told them. One roommate responded, I'm more lazy. I'd just kick him to the curb.
But he's not an idiot, I said. He's not evil. He's just asleep. And I'm going to tell him what truly happens to me when he's so demanding. And also draw the line. Because I can't put myself through this shit. It's not healthy.
After which I stumbled into a rant on healing societal ills one person and relationship at a time.
Maybe hurt is inevitable. Yes. Of course. Death happens. Tragedy happens. SHIT happens. But mortality and violence are two different things. Let's not pretend like they're the same damn thing.
Violence is a symptom of societal ill. And yes, I'm sure society's always had its ills, but who are we to toss the towel in on healing? If not the whole fucking society, at least ourselves? Our families? Our relationships? The people we spend our waking hours with? The people we claim to love?
Can we at least take on the practice of increasing compassion in our personal lives, and waking up to the ways that we're violent?--To ourselves, our communities, our friends and loves?
It swirled like a tsunami so strongly through the room that one roommate said he needed to take a nap. Ha!
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