Nobody Told Me There’d Be Days Like These.
Today I called in sick.
My stomach was upset, but if I am being truly honest, it is my spirit that is calling for rest today, a moment of silence and recovery from all we are experiencing in these trying times.
Oppressed peoples demanding, rightfully, to be heard while oppressors gaslight them back into silence.
Managed misinformation spread through our communities faster than the pandemic itself.
Extinction looms. Not today, but soon enough that it deserves center stage. A stage often occupied by tricksters and thieves, powerful illusionists whose deceits get recited as truths.
2020 can be summed up in the powerfully painful sentiment, “I can’t breathe.”
George Floyd whispered life into an expression right before his own was taken, forcing us to look at what really needs to die so we can all begin to breathe with ease once more.
Classism? Genderism? Sexism? Racism?
We will only ever be free when we are all free.
That is why we cannot breathe, why our chests rise erratically, and we gasp for fresh air.
We have woken from the hypnotic slumber of the program to find the American Dream is a nightmare of a globally detrimental magnitude.
The borders cannot block our hearts from connecting, and we are now beginning to see the divide is what allowed for the conquer.
Of our liberties.
Of our freedoms.
And of our thoughts.
We have been violated. We have been indoctrinated.
Told whom to love so we would know whom to hate.
Our passion and compassion have been used against us.
Work hard and achieve great things.
Those without great things must not be working hard, we tell the single mom with three jobs and not enough food.
It’s a pay-to-play world and we must work… or die. There is little option available in between.
Rest is weakness.
Our value is our net worth.
Modern day feudalism with billions of peasants and gluttonous kings.
Of colleges and communities.
We are defined by hierarchy and not humanity.
Those who have lording over those who do not.
Decisions made by people rarely impacted by them.
Minimum wage. Education. Healthcare. Housing. Social assistance.
As a womxn, even my body’s rights have been largely determined by men who will never need them.
Times are changing, they say. And it’s true.
But the gameboard and the rules of the game remain largely the same.
Our narrative continues to use antiquated references, and we seem stuck on the precipice of our own greatness but still bound to the limitations of our history, afraid to let go of what we know.
I understand that fear. For beings who have lived shrouded in deceptive darkness, stepping into the bright light of our infinite possibility is terrifying.
And still I pray we will do it anyways.
Our truest act of bravery will be to let go of what we know, so we can build the world we all dream of living in.
Sheryle Blasko has been writing her whole life. From poems and opinions, to facts and fictions, she explores her passion for words in all their forms. She is a full-time working mother, a crazy cat-lover and a steadfast student of life. Her mission and mantra is to love and to uncover all the barriers she’s built that keep her from doing so, telling her stories as they come through her to be told. Her deepest desire is to connect with others in deep and meaningful ways while she’s here.