devansandiford

I want to remember this moment for how it helped me accept that it’s okay to pause and breathe... for how it helped me acknowledge that I also know how to swim in the ocean.

This past Tuesday night I had the chance to hear Jason Reynolds and Jay Ellis in conversation about Jason’s latest book—Coach—and the real people in his life who have found their way into his stories.

J & J talked about a lot of different things, but one of the most significant for me was what Jason said about whales.

“Whales live in the water, but they still need to come up for air. Sometimes we have to remember that we weren’t meant to stay in the water... We all know what it feels like to need that pause.”

I’ve been silent for a while now. Shamefully it’s been so long that I thought it might be better to never speak up again, but coming out of this event I was able to remember that I was being quiet because I needed to pause.

I needed air—from the rejections that told me my experiences weren’t valuable to anyone but me; from the murder of children, women, and men; from the exhaustion of living in a country built on an “I can only survive if you die” mentality.

Book rejections. Gaza. Trump. Violence right outside our home. It was all hitting at the same time and from different altitudes. Too much to speak about, not enough time, space, ears to hear all of what could have been and should have been said. I needed to pause. I needed to breathe. I needed to be silent to survive.

I needed to surface, but I surfaced so long, I forgot that I knew how to live under the waves. Thank you for the reminder that it’s okay to get air.

I’m passing on the reminder: If you’ve been swimming for too long without coming up, this is your reminder to surface.
If you’ve been on the surface too long, afraid to dive back in, this is your reminder that you know how to survive in the ocean.

I will not shame myself for my silence or mistake it for unworthiness.
I will admit I’m imperfect and still learning.
I will love myself whether I’m producing or resting, speaking or listening.
I was born worthy—and will remain worthy.

Here’s to remembering that we all know how to come up for air.

I have to admit that I had so many self-defeating thoughts walking into this Meet the Author event. Here are a few that I remember (in order):

1. You’re not a real author.

2. You haven’t published your own book yet.

3. Your hair janky af, fam! You should wear a hat.

4. Nah… You shouldn’t wear a hat because that’s not professional.

5. If you dress too professional you ain’t being you… you’ll be that same sellout you always been!

6. Oh you think you special because you wore clothes that reflect who you are and not a persona of professional people tried to feed you??

7. Let’s see how much you love yourself when someone questions whether you belong.

All of that was rushing through my head when I was getting ready to walk out the door and head to event.

I could even feel the old call to rush frantically to fix my hair by any means necessary (i.e. going down alleys in France desperate to find a barbershop type of energy all over again).

But then about an hour before I had to leave I knew I had to drop those voices from my own head. I decided that I was going to fully show up and not feed fuel to those negative thoughts.

I did have a moment when my thoughts almost got the better of me when I arrived for not being further along in my journey, but the moment I started sharing my story and reading one part of my work-in-progress that I knew was 100% authentic to me, written in my own voice, and exactly the words I knew someone needed to hear, none of my self-destructive thoughts were with me. I leaned in even more and read from an anthologies I’m in, and it was great reminder that my words matter

I know that speaking up has changed my life. And I’ve been fortunate enough to know my words have changed others lives as well. That is why I showed up to give my heart and to give myself the self love I deserve.

It’s not the most novel, but I love myself sometimes. Considering how much the world has tried to convince me I’m not worthy of love, I’m pretty damn impressed with myself for the love I’m learning to give myself.

This is me announcing to myself that I’m worthy and stretching my capacity to align with the greatness in me that is a work-in-progress.

Tonight I had the opportunity to attend Opinions book tour event here in Brooklyn, and the thing I found most moving was how she spoke about the pressure to speak on every topic and how sometimes saying nothing can be the better decision.

The world we live in now with social media almost demands that we all have an opinion on every topic, and not only have an opinion on every topic, but to voice every opinion that we have the moment that we have it.

At times people can even believe that if we’re silent on a topic it means that we don’t care. But this model doesn’t take into account that some people’s opinions are more informed on a topic than others, and that if we all speak up or just copy what we hear other people say about a topic, we can actually be taking away from the most essential opinions that need to be heard.

For example, I could, should, and sometimes have spoken up about women’s health, but if my voices becomes more a part of the noise than the discussion or takes away from someone else’s more well informed thoughts, I might be doing a disservice to our shared goal by stepping into a position that wasn’t meant for me to fill.

The other thing is that for some of us, we might need time to sit with our feelings, to let ideas percolate, or even to focus our attention on areas where we can serve.

I like to imagine the healing work our world needs as a massive boulder. I picture us each taking on a part of the boulder. Of course, there are people off to the side doing nothing, some jack asses sitting on top of the boulder making it heavier, and every other variation of non contributors, but then there are those of us doing our best to carry a portion of the weight… to uplift our corner. From where you stand it may seem I’m not helping you carry the weight and I might think the same, but that doesn’t mean we’re not helping each other.

The truth is that silence can be good or bad, and while we don’t have to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, we can certainly assume people we’ve seen showing up for social good before may just being trying to help the best way they know how. And sometimes that’s enough!