Day 58 - Pria Joshi

   I am writing from the unceded lands of the Tohono O’odham and Pascua Yaqui peoples, in what is currently known as Tucson, Arizona. 

    We are watching in real time as the systems we have been born into are being called into question. And we can feel this in our hearts and in our guts as violence being done to the most vulnerable people in our communities. The danger feels much closer to home than usual, and for many of us, it is.

    While this collective, massive harm was never necessary, it is a natural progression of the type of society and economy in which we live. In my lifetime, I have never heard more people speak on the process of corporate capitalism (and its natural ends in total decimation and exploitation) with so much truth in their hearts. And this gives me hope.

    In order to be free, we must first face the truth – the truth that this violence has been ongoing, and largely displaced at home and around the globe for over a century. There is a process of grief in recognizing that the governments we once believed would protect us are the adversaries to our collective well-being. And because of this, continuing to speak loudly, imperfectly, and with curious hearts, has never been more important. But it isn’t enough.

    There has long been, in many communities in North America, a general culture of idleness when it comes to global atrocities, rather than action. And grief can, at times, come in between us and action. It is our job to seek out the voices of those with a culture of consistent resistance. For them, it has been a matter of survival. And it is for us too, now.

    It is not only our role to speak, but to listen. And as more and more people travel down a continuum toward painful, ego-denying truths, we are called to reach for those who are traveling the path with open hands. It is hard to educate others. There is a desire to distance ourselves from those who occupy mental spaces that were once close to ours to defend our egos, to show how far we have come. To show that we are not, in fact, the aggressors. While it is satisfying to some to blame voters who have put us all in danger, when they finally turn the corner to join us, it is for us to say, “I’m glad you’re here.” Not everyone is in that place now. But I believe that it is a part of traveling this continuum that we reach a point of welcoming newcomers. 

    And how can we reach that point? I believe it is in deep connection to community. We must let go of individual ego. We must care for and lift one another. We must do good work and take rest. We must lean on one another. There is no other way forward.

    We live in a violent world. It threatens us with harm. And while we combat it with love, we refill our hearts with long-dormant creativity. I believe that we must all develop a relationship to creativity that faces systems of violence with the power of our ability to be better, smarter, and faster to adapt. And in our nonviolence, we must be resolute. We must have stamina that we have not known, but that has been known for too long by the communities that our governments have exploited. And as we become more accountable, we must also learn to return to places of inner wisdom, of ancestral strength, and of the connection we all must create with other beings, whether they are humans, animals, plants, or ecological systems. We have to learn old ways in new ways. And we must try new things, fail, learn, and apply.

    I feel a deep sense of hope when I look at my community, which operates with a brave heart in the face of certain dismantlement. We support one another because we must, and we push for change because there is no other way forward. When the old ways crumble because their time has come, we must cultivate new ways in the fertile soil of love. It is love that makes all things possible. I am captivated by our capacity. If you feel called to rise, we’ve been waiting for you. And we are so glad you are here.

Pria Joshi
Tucson, Arizona