A Litany for Survival

Hey world,

I took a hiatus, but I'm back to share another poem. I know, I'm also thinking seriously, what is this? A poetry collection blog? but this one has a back story so sit back for a moment.

When I decided to accept the job with WorldTeach, I was absolutely ecstatic. But I also knew that at some point, I would to start doubting myself. I would get nervous. I would get to Tanzania and have potential mental breakdowns about everything*.

(*If there's anything I can say about myself without hesitation, it would be that I'm very adept at guessing what Future Me will do. And Future Me, and Current Me, is ALWAYS in a tizzy worrying about the next set of divergent paths in the wood instead of accepting my current location)

So when I came across this Audre Lorde poem, I was transfixed. I retyped it into a word document (helps press it into your memory) and then printed multiple copies of it and tucked them all over my room. One copy made it to Tanzania and home with me, and it's that quarter-fold that I now have in my apartment hanging on the side of my fridge. 

Out of the way, but nearby if needed. 

I identify with the "those of us" referenced throughout the poem, and I feel as though many travelers, wanderlusters and world-seekers would too. 

It's about quelling the what-ifs and giving into the what-the-hell's. 

As I've recently had to admit, the hardest thing to be afraid of is fear itself. 

xoxo,

M

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A Litany for Survival

- Audre Lorde

For those of us who live at the shoreline

standing upon the constant edges of decision

crucial and alone

For those of us who cannot indulge

the passing dreams of choice

who love in doorways coming and going

in the house between dawns

looking inward and outward

at once before and after

seeking a now that can breed

futures

like bread in our children's mouths

so their dreams will not reflect

the death of ours:

For those of us

 who were imprinted with fear

like a faint line in the center of our foreheads

learning to be afraid with our mother's milk

for by this weapon

this illusion of some safety to be found

the heavy-footed hoped to silence us

For all of us 

this instant and this triumph

We were never meant to survive. 

And when the sun rises we are afraid

it might not remain

and when the sun sets we are afraid

it might not rise in the morning

When our stomachs are full we are afraid

of indigestion

When our stomachs are empty we are afraid

we may never eat again

When we are loved we are afraid

love will vanish

When we are alone we are afraid

love will never return

and when we speak we are afraid

our words will not be heard

nor welcomed

but when we are silent

we are still afraid. 

So it is better to speak

Remembering

We were never meant to survive.