A recipe: From my words & an ally’s typewriter
An ally in the movement offered to write us poems. She asked me what heaviness I was carrying. I said this is a triple public health crisis, and located in my body in my lungs (COVID), in my heart (racism & lack of love), and in my throat (smoke, being unable to breathe and speak the truth). Then she asked What do you love? And my ancestors, spirit guides, and all my medicines tumbled out - the herbs and songs and spells and self-massage and walks without my phone, the deep love of other healers in the Network, the care I feel holding me on all sides became clear.
Then she typed this poem from my words, on an old typewriter - type, type-type - as I sat in a bathtub, massages by chest, and started to let go - coughing chemicals out of my lungs, agony out of my chest, and cleared my voice to start speaking more truth. Thank you Molly for this recipe for healing justice.