On Gratitude: All The People I'll Never Be

Psalm 31:10 says, “You did it: you changed wild lament into whirling dance; You ripped off my black mourning band and decked me with wildflowers.” I went to Standing Rock because I believed in fighting for “whirling dance.” So much of what we hear on the news is about “wild lament.”  My parents make fun of me because every time I open a newspaper because I start crying. It’s not just the news, either. It’s the quiet moments when a friend shares a story of sexual assault and cries because the police department isn’t doing anything to help. It’s the staggering number of friends who have had loved ones pass this year. It’s the people who grew up on the streets with me. It’s the people who’re still there.  It’s the darkest corners of our lives and the simplest, lightest, most singular and luminous moments, because darkness doesn’t break through without light: it’s the rule.

While on the road, I’ve been thinking a lot about gratitude. President Obama ruled that the pipeline be blocked. People are kissing and hugging and singing and laughing at Standing Rock right now, because our President has reminded the country that our voices still can be heard. When we cry, the government hears us, and they listen.

I arrived in Colorado a week ago, and I met someone interesting a few nights ago. Her name is Cheryl Strayed. She just finished hiking the Pacific Crest Trail – all by herself! I’ve always been scared to travel alone, but Cheryl did it! She was alone, in nature, all by herself, and it helped her point north again. She told me about her ex-boyfriend, and the cheating, and the heroine, and the tears on the trail. She talked about the scabs and the books and her mother and the Bridge of the Gods. She seems light and ebullient; her demeanor did not match the stories she told me about her former self. 

I came to Standing Rock because I wanted to help change the world. Cheryl seemed to suggest that there was a way to change ourselves in the process. My mind has been so small for so long – focused only on Kensington, my family, and my future. Someone was telling me about Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs the other day. I guess now that I have an education my immediate needs have been fulfilled, and I can now think about the pursuit of happiness. What does it mean to be happy? Am I happy? How can I become happy?

As always, the road has created more questions than answers. Cheryl said something funny last night. After she reached the Bridge of the Gods, she thought about how wild it was, to simply let her emotions be. I didn’t come from a lot of privilege, but I have the opportunity to make a real change now; I can be anyone I want to be. Maybe I’ll run a marathon, or hike a million miles like Cheryl, or move to Greece, or sell all of my things, and stay on the road forever. All I really want, though, is to go back to Kensington. I love my family, and my friends, and my community there. All that matters in this life are the relationships we build and what we do with our love. I want to move mountains with my love. I want to move mountains with the people I've been entrusted to care for in this life -- back home, in Kensington.