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Stunning view of the first service held at Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston after the deadly shooting by a white supremacist. Image: Reuters-David Goldman/Pool

What a week it was. What a year it’s been!

We’re almost at the half-way point, and it’s hard to even comprehend that 2020 is an election year. How can we begin to wrap our wearied minds around the fact that we have the immense responsibility of defeating a bullish white supremacist, who will stop at nothing to secure a second term.

We have the deadly season of a global pandemic that has been disproportionately devastating to the community that can’t afford to shoulder more pain and suffering in addition to the daily threats that hamper our survivability.

The tragedy of George Floyd’s brutal murder by a former police officer in broad daylight has replaced the fear of Covid-19 and the mandate of social distancing with the national uprising across the nation and the world-at-large.

Emotions are raw and heightened. We know that our consumption of the extreme without lifting up for recharged air is doing the worst on the mental and physical, but what choice do we have?

The hourly updates are literally a matter of life and death, and if we manage to tear ourselves away for five minutes, the nagging dread of what is unfolding propels us to refresh screens with racing hearts.

And so the ups and downs, steep hills and maze of roundabouts, stemming from the never-ending horror show that features detours awaiting inspection forces me to ask:

How y’all doing?

When you consider the accumulated centuries of historical crimes against us, with variations that don’t deviate from the diseased culprit of white supremacy, it’s amazing that we’re still capable of showing out with faculties intact.

There’s no way we can register as being okay during this calamitous season of unfiltered chaos and mayhem, that has divulged the general perception of what was never a secret, but rather a open violation of basic human rights by the long arm of the law.

For me, bad habits have threateningly resurfaced with the slithering promise that I’ve earned the right to unapologetically backslide while accommodating this tempestuous climate.

The best way to navigate the constant blows to the spirit is to rely on the spirituality that communions with the realization of how being over-overburdened can’t be the long-term state of mind.

As hard as it is to accomplish, we must explore the realms of staying logged off long enough to love it, which initiates the rhythmic pulse that thankfully becomes the preferred norm.

Turn it all the way down, and calmly take deep breaths.

But life’s betrayals will awfully tamper with wellness.

In this time of viral poison and the sorrowful footage depicting what happens when skin color matches yours, staying engaged without breaks takes a damaging turn if you can’t step away from the alighted minefield.

No, we are not doing well, and that’s fine.

Checking on yourself extends to inquiring on loved ones. Reaching out ultimately forces you to ask yourself the same questions and rate those answers, accordingly.

We are not okay, but we will be alright.

The level of trauma that has been levied on us for centuries through far-reaching valves of white supremacy demands pending compensation from white America, that won’t be nearly enough for generations of uninterrupted death and destruction.

And while we wait for our season of nationalized replenishment from seasoned and ruthless detractors in the form of their permanent displacement, and our long-awaited societal re-alignment, we must be ready and able to receive those blessings.

Let’s rely on resources and the resourcefulness of professionals in our community, who were built to address our specific woes with the tenderness that Blackness evokes when we love on each other, with the bonds that relay the unspoken.

We will be alright.

We have to be.

Written by

Juggling Wordsmith. I have a lot to say!

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