In Stillness

 "Everyone on this call has ancestors that ran from something!"

He paused then said it again.

"Everyone on this call has ancestors that ran from something!"

His deep voice had conviction that penetrated my skin.

It was like thunder from the sky that shook up my insides.

The vibrations in my head flowed down my arms through my chest and into my stomach.

They dropped to my legs then feet.

I saw the image of my mother and her family fleeing Poland.

They didn't leave Poland they escaped.

To get away from oppression, violence and death.

She told me about this when I was a child.

I would hear more and more as I got older.

It has been decades and I never welcomed the real story inside my body.

It settled somewhere inside my gut, my chest, my throat. 

It made itself at home on its own.

The full narrative of running away from the trauma of war and oppression has been lying dormant in my being for almost seventy years. I have had a tremor in my hands ever since I can remember. I move with a stiff-like motion. I can zone out at any moment. I am ready to run at the drop of a hat. 

Something happened on that zoom call. It was like a spark went off in my head.

The story became a major motion picture before my eyes.

I did not censor it I embodied it.

This is what is under the belly of my life.

My mother and her brothers told stories how their family lived in a one bedroom apartment.

They always looked out for one another.

They would bring home a coffee cake at night after work and they would sit around and talk.

They were very close to each other. 

Maybe that is why I love to run now.

My body is free.

Legs push moving me forward.

Arms pumping at my sides.

No danger.

I am safe and alone.

In my world.

Not being chased or scrutinized.

No threats or danger.

Not sticking out or being different.

I am part of the cycle of the day.

Running my route on the face of the earth.

It hits me like a pot of cold water poured over my head.

The legacy of White male patriarchy that I was born into.

The White supremacist grip on human existence.

Who I am related to.

Who my family escaped from.

Only to give birth to more White men.

To continue the lineage of White patriarchs.

And I am repulsed.

The idea that class controls my life is a dagger to my chest.

It pushes, crushes and stomps on me.

In this moment it all changes.

It has to start right here right now.

Inside my body.

In stillness.

In the beating of my heart. 

In the whisper of my prayers.

In the changing of the seasons.

I stand up to White entitlement.

I stand up to White patriarchal delusion.

I understand to the best of my ability the pain and degradation that has been afflicted on Black, Brown, Indigenous people, and people of color.

I understand a little bit more my family's fleeing and their survival story.

It is my hope and responsibility for us all to heal.

That I set myself and my past generations free from oppression.

And to release Black, Brown, Indigenous people and people of color from the bondage they have been held captive in by White supremacists.

So, the people I love, and all beings, don't feel they have to run.

As we sit in stillness.