“Her bigness sweeps my being” by Julia at her desk

Thursday June 18, 2020
7:35pm
5 minutes
America
Claude McKay

Dear Inside Voice,

I hear you. I’m listening. You used to try to get my attention in little ways. You didn’t want to yell. And I don’t blame you for that. I shouldn’t have made you strain to be noticed. That was wrong of me. See this little seed of avoidance I planted deep inside me was right next to you and it grew faster than I could have imagined. I didn’t mean to block you out, make you feel small, or like you weren’t worth welcoming in. I see now how I would have been aided by your wisdom. I would have been able to give you big rooms to sing into. Big echoing stairwells to sweep your endlessness around. I want that today. I want that still. I hope you know that there is a shift and it’s happening now, from before, and all over. It’s not just me. I’m not the only one stripping away the layers, spiraling in to journey all the way to the core; the tiny voice matched to such big energy. I am not the only one.

“10. going, going, gone” by Julia at the desk

Monday June 15, 2020
9:17am
5 minutes
alternate names for black boys
Danez Smith

When mornings summer there is a wild eyed hope for the day.
A warm breeze beckoning, the rickety wooden chair seeming easy.
There are plans and lists and joys and items. All languishing
on the vine. A cool green grape rounds the mouth of hunger and
we wait for the severed head from its body to make its way down
the tube.

By the middle of the day there is a leaf blower competition from
both the front and the alleyway and through the on and off the
crows protecting their wired haunt snap and hurl their elastic
throats. It will be harder to pretend that this isn’t the day.

How quickly can motivation mumble into something softer. It comes
with hesitation. Acceptance of stillness sometimes begs the test.

I have never not grown after a deep surrendering.