Today, Jamie asks, “What do you wish to claim?” At first, I couldn’t think of anything, and then I shifted to actively resisting an answer. Something about the word made me do that old thing where I shrink from asserting myself, my desires — “oh no, it’s okay, I’m fine.” Well, forget that…
I wish to claim space, my right to take up space, to stretch and move around and breathe and make noise, to fill it, to be solid, to be here, to exist.
I wish to claim my voice, my truth, my perspective, the way I see things, what I feel, my unique experience.
I wish to claim my right to speak, to take part in the conversation, to have an opinion, to be who I am and show up exactly that, not start a question with “sorry,” not apologize but have permission, confidence, faith, to stand in and speak my truth.
I wish to claim that the way I am being asked to live by this culture is crazy, a lie, a violence I will no longer accept, that there is no sanity at this pace, that I do not have to hate myself to take part, and I am allowed to do and take what I need, to rest, go as slow as it takes to be well.
I wish to claim quiet and stillness.
I wish to claim wisdom and kindness, to assert that these qualities are the fundamental nature of every being, no matter how confused or lost.
I wish to claim that fitting in and being good, perfection, and “hustling for worthiness” are wrongheaded, symptoms of dis-ease and not a place to live.
I wish to claim the full measure of love, even knowing how much I hurt when the inevitable loss comes.
I wish to claim my body, life experienced in a body — both the responsibility and the gift.
I wish to claim the time I need to heal, to surrender to wholeness, health and sanity.
I wish to claim delight, joy and ease.