Newly, I have become more aware of my voice and my thoughts and my inner churning. At once believing that I need to make space for the less acknowledged voices/thoughts/churning of the globe; at once believing that there is enough space for me, for all of us, for all the stories.
This lends itself to an infernal cycle of thoughts that go something like this:
No space: I need to shut-up now, that's not my story to tell. I need to make space not take space.
Enough space: But surely I have some thoughts to share that are worth hearing.
NS:You have the same story as 1000 other <insert label here> people roaming the privileged gardens smack bang in the middle of a desert.
ES: But surely I am unique and have something unique to say. Who decides who gets to have a voice and who doesn't?
NS: That is your white-privilege speaking, take it out onto the porch and beat it with a stick.
ES: But! Ah! Don't shut me up under a label. I have also experienced a degree of oppression, and have something to say about it.
NS: But your story has been in the limelight too easily and too often for far too long. Make some bloody space.
And so, my real "struggle" has been whether or not my opinion is really one that needs to be voiced or not. However, I am a believer in choice. Your personal choice. So you may choose to walk into this maze or you might choose to walk into another. These Incomplete Thoughts are mine, but why not take them outside for you to beat with a stick, if you like. For my opinions are (as all opinions should be) held loosely and re-examined often.
Presently, they appear as such, usually in some form of an endless loop.
