bringing joy and abundance into liberation
our movements don't need us to shame each other and to suffer
I’ve been there. I’m the first to admit that I’ve directed my anger at times towards people who didn’t deserve it, who were trying, just as much as I am. In the process, I’ve alienated them. I’ve probably unintentionally made them feel ashamed for not being able to show up ‘better’. They were just in a different position than me, but at the end of the day, I do believe that at our core, our values are aligned. We want injustices to end. We just have different capacities for speaking up about it. I’m not better or worse than anyone else for how much or little outspoken I am. Being able to be outspoken takes certain experiences and even personality traits. Some people are more risk-averse and others take risks easily. This can also change throughout life. Some people (me too) have also very much been socialized into self-sacrifice. (TW: suicide) When it’s my time to die, I will. I’ve tried to end my life but now all I want to do is truly live because I can see how many souls I’m sustaining by being here and by caring deeply.
If I could go back, I would process and express that anger differently, but I didn’t have the tools at the time. I was just too exhausted and feeling hopeless. So, from this, I draw a lesson: One way to not perpetuate the cycle of trauma and disconnection — which weakens our movements — is to stay rooted in hope and to truly rest. Full stop. No guilt. No shame. No toxic positivity. No toxic productivity. All feelings welcome. No pressure to perform. Feeling instead of performing. Believe me, less can be more. An inspired action is more impactful than a restless one. We have to cultivate that radical trust that a different world is possible. But it will not happen in this linear fashion. Or simply as an angry outburst of reactions. We have to feed this imagination rather than the one that everyone has let us down. It can feel this way at times. It is very much a valid feeling. Yet, it can blind us to all the solidarity, love and care that is already there and that if we could see it, so abundantly, we could rest in.
I intend that it becomes easier with time to speak from a gentle, non-shaming place of solidarity, love and care to each other. Sometimes we have to show anger and disappointment too. That’s okay. It makes so much sense to feel angry, frustrated, disappointed and hopeless. Especially people who are directly experiencing genocide: It makes SO MUCH sense to feel abandoned by the world.
I’m here to say: I see you. I hear you. I’m witnessing you. I’m not here to dismiss your struggle. I’m not here to diminish your hardship and pain. I’m not here to invalidate your experiences and say that this injustice isn’t happening. I’m here to say: FUCK THIS. Alongside you. I’m gathering all of my ancestral wisdom. I’m restructuring my life. To deeply imagine how to create a world where this is no longer the case. I’m not someone to propose that doing more is the (only) answer. Being differently helps too.
How are we holding our feelings? Are we being with them? Or are we simply using them to berate ourselves and each other? I’ve read so many posts about how useless writers and poets are during a time like this. So many people are convinced that writing on the internet, or at all, will not change anything. I’ve felt like a writer all my life but this is the first time, I’m letting go of my ego and writing generously because I feel that if it would just help one person, it would be better than none. Writers and poets have done tremendous work to change our world and our perceptions, to provide us with liberatory frameworks. They couldn’t have done so if they didn’t go through a lot of deep reflection in community and solitude: Periods of time where it might have seemed like they were careless or inactive. It’s (spiritual) work that comes with lots of pushback. Let’s not forget how the writers whom we celebrate now were treated during their time. I’m truly interested in how can we shift out of that. How can we get un-stuck? How can we uplift each other NOW? How can we make the fight for liberation not feel like another form of oppression and exploitation?
The following questions I’ve been asking myself. You are free to join me and journal about them too. Emotions have a purpose. They are here to nudge us towards tools for liberation. They want to be set free and they want us to be free. Deeply. Emotions are full of ancestral wisdom. Abundantly so. We don’t randomly feel the way we do:
What am I gaining by
holding on to anger?
What am I gaining by
holding on to pain?
What am I gaining by
holding on to shame?
In the case of social injustice, I believe that we are holding on to anger, pain and shame because we often feel like this is the only way we can show commitment. We are signing subconscious contracts with our communities, saying: This is how I’m showing that I care about you. That I’m committed to you. We are tremendously scared that if we let go of these feelings, we become complacent. We don’t trust ourselves enough. We need to provide proof. But who has given us these scripts for how to be an activist or a caring person? Do they serve us? Don’t we also see people with these scripts face serious health issues? Can we show our commitment differently?
YES. In so many ways. Imagine the communities you care about as a friend. How would you show this friend that you’re committed and you care about them? Would you do so by constantly being angry at anyone who hurt them? Would you do so by shaming everyone who hurt them? Would you do so by constantly suffering with them? Would you do so, by going into a depression, whenever they told you, they were depressed? Would you show your commitment by abandoning everyone and everything else for them? How do you think your friend would feel if you did that? Would they feel supported, or rather, like now, they have to take care of you?
There’s nothing wrong with being taken care of. We all deserve that. My point is a wisdom I have gained from a letter-writing exercise I did recently. I’m doing a course called Feeling Safe With Money by Meenadchi. It’s deep, powerful, spiritual work. We are learning about how money is not inherently pro-oppression. We are learning how money is just a tool that could just as much heal and liberate the world. It’s an energy that is here to play, that is curious, that wants us to engage. Systems of oppression know how to use money for their purposes. How about liberation movements? Too often, we deem money as the root of all evil. We blame money for problems that humans have created. Even in a world without money, there could still be oppression.
When times are hard, intentionally loving ourselves and each other is what transforms us. Stepping into joy and abundance matters. It’s also our birthright. I have an emotional boundary around anger, pain and shame. I hold. I honor. I release. The anger, pain and shame of oppression are not mine (and ours) to carry. I feel like this should be a political strategy. A politic of love. It’s not something that we are actively taught to practice in activist and community spaces. Even if we are, why not do this more?
All we have to lose is resentment for our fellow humans, those who are fighting alongside us, but who might not show up as perfectly as we are expecting. That expectation is rooted in hopelessness. Yet, we cannot expect anyone to save us. This might seem very sobering at first but it doesn’t mean that we cannot receive support. Expressing our needs and having boundaries is healthy. Also during crisis. Especially during crisis. If there’s a time to celebrate the living and the dead, it’s NOW.
A few affirmations to play with:
I’m not letting anyone down by being joyful.
My (queer) joy is a reclamation of everything that is right in the world.
My communities are rejoicing with me. They feel empowered by my joy.
I spread hope to my communities by being who I truly am.
My (creative) gifts are needed. I lean into my passions. Now more than ever.
I celebrate the beauty in myself, even when I’m angry and in despair.
I celebrate the beauty in others, even when they are angry and in despair.
Our anger and despair are rooted in love. I love us being alive. I love us showing our full spectrum of emotions. I love us fighting for what we believe in.
I deserve to rest. Full stop. I rest and recharge without needing to earn it.
I have nothing to prove. My commitment to liberation is immeasurable. It cannot be measured in actions. I also commit by listening and stepping back sometimes.
I am committed to staying open-minded and relearning what liberation looks like.
I don’t let fear convince me that any group of people is collectively bad.
Love,
Imọlẹ
Please let me know in the comments what reading this has sparked in you. What resonated? Also, feel free to share my Substack with friends. I feel very grateful for each subscription.