It has been such a week, after such a week, a series of such weeks over this past year, and a series among a lifetime of such weeks.

These weeks teach me about the living tensions and holding space for the abundance that makes up life even when it is so incredibly complicated.

This week, love and grief emerged for me in waves, in tidal waves, in gentle waves, like the ebb and flow of the sea. They came for me and I was not ready for their power. They came for me in their beauty and destructiveness and all I could do was to be swept away, and brought back. I could fall into them and hope to reach the shore.

This week, laughter and tears flowed. I surprised myself by laughing at long text threads and exclamations of a five year old (my favorite five year old), at everyday moments. I surprised myself by sobbing for a young girl that I once was so long ago who lost her mother and was told there was a time limit on her grief.

This week, the stress of anticipation was balanced by the strength of community. So many times this week, I wondered whether I should speak, what I should say, if I would hear from my sister, if I would know someone killed in a mass shooting, if it was safe to walk outside, if I could make it through a meeting or a workday without the familiar feelings of nausea and anxiety coming upon me to remind me that I was not free. And yet, in those moments when I was most afraid, I would receive a text or a message or a tweet from someone expressing love, or living in the present. I would hear the joyful laughter from down the hall. I would be shown grace.

This week, I drank 64 oz of water everyday (thank you, Joy, for my water bottle to support this). I breathed deeply when I felt the anxiety rise. I let myself cry and feel. I wrote in paper journals. I felt the depths of love in so many ways that I will always be grateful for, and I felt the depths of grief in equally powerful ways that remind me of my humanity.

We live so many tensions.

It is not easy.

But it is, in many ways, the beauty of humanity.

We can move towards liberation, but only in community, and only through navigating tensions, holding space for all that encompasses the complexities of our humanity, holding ourselves and each other accountable, while also showing grace to ourselves and each other.

I am living the tensions. I am working to embrace them. For in the tensions, I know I find my full humanity.