There’s an adage a historian once called a law of history, true of every society across the ages. The adage is, only when it is dark enough can you see the stars. I know many people feel like we are entering a dark time, but for the benefit of us all, I hope that is not the case. But here’s the thing, America, if it is, let us fill the sky with the light of a brilliant, brilliant billion of stars. The light, the light of optimism, of faith, of truth and service.

Vice President Kamala Harris, November 7, 2024

My heart breaks to write this.

I have been thinking about light and dark, poetry and prose, ourunfinishedness, and gratitude for a long time. (The privilege to spend even a second thinking about all that, much less feeling all that, is not lost on me.) This past week has been fraught with pain, questions, disillusionment, despair, and palpable fear. (All that smells like privilege, too.) I find consolation in knowing I am not alone. Despite this election, I believe in the brilliant billion.

Don’t get me wrong, it is hard to feel bolstered by the billion right now. The anger over where we are and how we got here makes it hard to breathe. Surrounded by all that, I believe in the brilliant billion.

Love Wins

I mean this sincerely. Love is a verb (My take — with the help of bell hooks and others — on love as a verb.), and it is everywhere around me when I pay attention. That is the task right now. Act lovingly. Look for love in the world. Find love in the world. Amplify love in the world. Love big and small – knowing about the butterfly effect (My take on the butterfly effect). Love family, friends, and strangers — knowing we are beautifully, molecularly, and cosmically interdependent. Love in person and online — knowing that our deeds and words absolutely have always and will continue forever to matter.

Dawn Revisited

As Rita Dove suggests, dawn can be revisited. We can wake up with a second chance. We are waking up now and need another, perhaps our hundredth, chance as a nation. The oaks still stand. Sausage and eggs still smell like sausage and eggs. The sky is ours to write on, “blown open to a blank page.” (I have definitely felt blown to pieces this week.) Our unfinishedness begs us to take chances. It demands no less than taking chances, risking hope, connection, failure, and heartbreak, yet again. I think our ancestors require us to revisit dawn.

Resistance Has Many Faces and Names

I have started to study resistance. I am learning that resistance has many faces and names. I am learning that resistance has many weights and sounds. I am learning that resistance is elementally about human connection. What does that look like? It can look like creating art. It can look like volunteering in your community. It can look like, as Ross Gay suggests, seeking what we love in common. In that way, paying attention is resistance. It is a mano-a-mano response to isolation, cruelty, and hate, in which we use our time, talent, and treasure to hold one another close.