The day after I found out about Ahmaud Arbery’s murder, I had planned to lead a loving kindness meditation for my weekly writers group, Mindful Mornings.
I was full of emotion about Ahmaud’s death - sadness, rage, sorrow, disbelief - and extremely conflicted about asking a group of people to trust me as I invited them to extend love & kindness to all beings (which would include the two men who murdered Ahmaud).
I continued with the meditation, and while I personally wasn’t able to extend my love bubble very far that day, I felt the group drop in. Afterwards, we journaled for 30 minutes and then came back together to share. During our discussion, I listened as the group shared beautiful loving-kindness mantras of their own. Statements like,
“I hope you feel fully seen, heard, accepted and like you belong.”
“May you find joy easily and often. May you feel connected, supported and loved.”
“I love myself completely and unconditionally.”
In this group, I prompt us to “listen generously and share courageously.” About halfway through the discussion, I could feel my armpits getting sweaty, butterflies in my stomach and a lump forming in my throat. These are the familiar body sensations that come to me when I know I have something to share.
We were nearing the end of the discussion when I shared that I felt incredibly inauthentic leading everyone through this meditation and asking them to extend love and kindness to all beings on this planet, when I wasn’t able to feel love towards the two men who murdered Ahmaud. I found myself questioning the meaning of this group; who am I to be leading something like this, what impact is this actually having?
Note: despite leading this group week after week, sharing something from my heart is very hard for me. Vulnerability is scary, that’s what makes it powerful.
A friend on the call said, “Not many people cry for someone they don’t know. Empathy may feel like a weakness sometimes, but it’s actually a great strength.”
That made me cry even more.
This group SHOWED UP for me. Even though we were past time, they continued to listen, ask questions and share their insights. I’m lucky to have a lot of teachers in my community, and I was taught many things on this call.
Someone shared the insight that, “Most bullies have been bullied themselves.” They also offered the practice of separating one’s actions from their humanness. You never have to condone or love someone’s actions, but does that mean you cannot show them love as a human? Like I said, a practice.
I was taught the importance of nurturing your grief, instead of turning away from it, as grief serves as a reminder that you care about humanity.
I was reminded to lead with curiosity over judgement. To think about these two men and wonder what their life has been like. What have they not healed from that caused them to turn against love and towards hate? Getting curious about someone’s life (instead of judging) is a form of kindness. This is the first step to truly practicing loving kindness. Kindness leads to empathy. Empathy leads to action. Action leads to justice.
I spent the weekend being patient with my feelings and giving myself the grace to feel them all. Last Thursday, I thought I was sharing feelings of weakness, inauthenticity and self-doubt. I now realize it was an act of courage. Vulnerability requires bravery.
Authenticity makes a difference. Vulnerability makes a difference. Empathy makes a difference. As humans, these are our superpowers.
To all of my empaths out there, I see you. I feel you. Repeat after me:
My emotions are my superpower.
Feel them. Love them. Use them. Ask questions about them. If you feel compelled to act, if something feels wrong, don’t doubt yourself. Take action. Speak up, speak out, get loud.
You are not alone.
By getting loud, by feeling the feelings, by letting yourself cry on Zoom, you are modeling what vulnerability looks like. You are contributing to a collective of people who lead with their hearts. Together, we are powerful.
I need you. We need you. The world needs us.
This collective uprising is what led to the arrest of Ahmaud’s murderers. It inspired 500,000 people in more than 40 countries to #RunWithMaud over the weekend. The work is not done. Go here to take action and seek justice for Ahmaud.
Hope.
After several days of rage, anger and sadness… I feel myself returning to hope. A friend shared “Where to Begin” by Cleo Wade with me, a gift arriving at the perfect time. Cleo quotes her friend DeRay Mckesson with my new favorite definition of hope,
““Hope is the belief that our tomorrows can be better than our todays. Hope is not magic, it is work.” ”
To my Mindful Mornings community, thank you for showing up. For listening generously and sharing courageously. For teaching me, inspiring me and for restoring my faith in hope and in love. Each week, I am constantly reminded of this little phrase that came to me in the early days of Mindful Mornings, “Community is a basic human need.”
Thank you, thank you, thank you.