Meditation Writings

Stay Safe

It was something we started saying at the beginning of the pandemic. “Stay Safe” became the new “have a good day”. It was heart breaking and scary to hear.

But things are not so scary now. Yes, hundreds of thousands of people are dying around the world thanks to COVID, but it still doesn’t seem so scary these days.

That’s because most people are going back to work, most people are sending their kids back to school. Those who can afford to are doing what the system is calling “Pods”, which means they are hosting education classes in their homes for small groups of people.

Some are saying this is unfair to the average kid that has to go back to school.

I worry, because I know teachers are worried, that there will be other things they have to face. Like school shootings, on top of a pandemic.

But I am less scared today than I was six months ago. There is an eery calm about the world today, in particular, even with Donald Trump wanting to put his face on Mount Rushmore.

Today I am quieter than usual. I realized last night that I do not feel at home in my own body. I wonder genuinely if this is how people who are trans feel, not that I am transgender. I feel like my body is not my own, like I don’t belong here in this life, in this form.

I don’t know if I am explaining it correctly, today I am just writing about how I feel.

I woke up this morning, and the first thing I wanted to do besides get more sleep, was to write. I write every day, without question, but today in particular the one thing I wanted to do was write for sure.

I don’t always know what I want to write, sometimes it’s fictional on La Lumiere, and other days it’s here on LMBG, but I always want to write. It’s the one thing that makes me feel at home in my body, it’s the one thing that makes me feel connected to the universe.

I saw a picture of myself today. It was taken when I was twelve years old, after my very first Backstreet Boys concert, for a modeling competition. Everyone says I look beautiful, but what they don’t know is that those eyes are the eyes of an old soul.

The eyes of a girl who has seen more abuse than she deserved to see at that age, than anyone deserves to see at that age. I am proud of her, for fighting, for holding on so that I could exist. So that I could be here to write and to tell you that today I am okay. I am tired, and I am a little bit sad for the state of the world, but I am okay.

How are you doing today?

Sending all my love,

Devon J Hall

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