There is no way, not in a million years
that I would change, or run away from
the enormity of the suffering
that so frequently characterises
this experience of being a human.
The helplessness I feel is sometimes so unspeakable
it tears my heart apart.
I can't believe what we've done.
I can't believe what we do.
I can't believe how we treat each other.
I can't believe how we treat ourselves...
And this breaks me.
So violently. So passionately.
So relentlessly. This helplessness is a sword
that has been driven through my body,
and I can't pull it out.
*It won't go. It's too heavy.
It's been moulded into my flesh.*
And the hurt I feel is hard to describe.
The sword, when driven inside,
stripped me of my clothes,
and I can't put them back on again.
They tear from my body.
They are taken from my hands...
Exposed and naked, all I can do is love,
even when it brings me to my knees,
even when I would rather protect myself,
even when every other part of me
wants to run and hide.
*I can’t have it any other way.*
I have tasted the helplessness,
and now everything is beaming with urgency.
I can’t rest. I can’t stop.
I can’t protect. I can’t hide.
I can’t withhold.
This is just too important.