In the past seven days, I feel more grounded compared to the previous two weeks that felt like I was a gaping wound exposed to the open air. Per usual, I’m picking apart and analyzing the f**k out of it. Why and how and what does it mean…

Being a recovering feelings intellectualizer, I can’t help it!

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The constant feeling of nausea for existing in this colonial capitalistic genocidal timeline is unbearable. And when I have slightly more capacity, I go onto social media to tap into what’s happening in Palestine and the world…the barometer drops. Then I am faced with the questions: what am I doing? How am I contributing to the world I want to see? How am I using this one lifetime in service to collective liberation? The grief surges. The guilt pokes it’s head out. The exhaustion comes over me and I think about all the people who don’t have the privilege of being depressed because they are fighting for their lives. And I’m laying in bed frozen.

This is not it.

The ridiculous part is at the same time I’m feeling closeness and connection to my chosen community and also experiencing so many healing moments through liberation workshop facilitation. It’s ridiculous, because you would think that there would be no space for connection and laughter by how nauseating being tapped into reality is. Somehow, so much coexists. And I feel guilty? Or maybe it’s fear.

I’m afraid that any semblance of normalcy is an indication that I’m giving into “the matrix” as my friends and I say.

As I’m reading people’s notes here on Substack, I feel annoyed when glittery fairy writing pops up about love and light.

I used to be a glittery fairy girl who would talk about the need to romanticize the small things. Oh the afternoon coffee + pastry, little walks, quiet mornings, painting in afternoon light, and farmers markets. I was aware enough to describe it under anti-capitalism, but it all seemed so simple and easeful.

(ID: me, east asian femme, with bangs wearing tortoise shell sunglasses at a farmers market holding sunflowers and raclette baguette smiling in the sun - last summer.)

Maybe I’m annoyed about it, because I wish I could still be that glittery fairy (socially conscious-ish) girl. Instead, I’m depressed-anxious-angry-finacially-struggling-under-capitalism girl.

I’ve been digesting lessons from Assata Shakur’s autobiography. One of those lessons is understanding that revolution needs scientific analysis and strategy. Below is a photo with this quote: “One of the hardest lessons we had to learn is that revolutionary struggle is scientific rather than emotional. I’m not saying that we shouldn’t feel anything, but decisions can’t be based on love or on anger. They have to be based on the objective conditions and on what is rational, unemotional thing to do.”

That challenges me. Assata writes that the downfall of a lot of movements is because people make decisions from reactivity on an individualistic basis. I believe that change for the good is birthed from a spiritual place of love and hope, but the spiritual rooting needs to translate into action that actually causes material change.

I am not against all symbolic actions. In fact I think that symbolic disruptions are needed. But it needs to be just a tiny part of the greater movement towards change.

Here are a few ways that I love when I think about material change. Boycotting israel and war is powerful. It’s all about money/resources - so it’s strategic to hit them where it hurts if we are able to sustain it for as long as it takes. Feeding and housing unhoused folks is powerful, because it’s a big f**k you to empire when we take care of each other. Wearing a mask and testing for COVID is powerful, because it saves lives, protects the vulnerable (esp poor Black and brown folks), and prevents further disabling folks.

As I’m dipping my toe into different ways of organizing and applying myself through mutual aid, I’m also confronted with my posture. I don’t have to be of service to community because they need me…coming in as a savior is dehumanizing and just another way to extend empire. How can I practice circular energy that honors the fact that I’m a piece of a larger movement that resists imperialism and capitalism?

The one year mark is coming up this october when the world erupted with rage alongside Palestine. Forever I will be changed by the faith of the Palestinians. Forever I will be changed by the martyrs of Palestine, Sudan, Congo…Black and brown folks who have been brutalized and murdered by state sanctioned violence here in the imperial core and globally. Posture is so important thinking about how to enact change that honors those who we lost too soon.

When I’m frozen with depression in bed, I hope that the deeper my faith becomes in my role here on the earth, the more fluidity and movement will arise. And the more I can embody the grief, rage, laughter, love, courage and soulful connections with rooted confidence.

What does Liberatory Imagination spark in me today?

Ease of movement through different emotions. Ease to feel and not have all the words to assign each feeling towards. Ease to laugh and love that is rooted in honor and gratitude. Ease to hold sadness and deep grief with tenderness and connection - instead of isolation. Ease to do all of it in community.

How to support me (thank you in advance):

Currently, I’m in between jobs and would appreciate any support you can afford.

* Be a paid subscriber. All my posts are accessible for everyone, and it would mean so much to me on my path of figuring out how to sustain myself under capitalism.

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(ID: self portrait of me - east asian femme with short bangs, bleached brows, hair behind me, in my studio apartment coping with depression.)

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