Francesca Nicole

Beloveds - we have forgotten who we are.

Today I am reflecting that even inside of Trump, of McConnel, of those full of hatred and fear there is a hidden tenderness - a hurt little one - a confusion about who they really are. Like me - Confused, lost. Like me - The unwillingness to feel what is hard to feel.... The numbing in the face of the vulnerability. I care, but I cant control - the whisper underneath love, and covered over by layers of delusion, consumption, aggression, self-obsession. I wish I could call forward each one by their true name, draw out the deep knowing, the well of love. I wish I could heal the hurts that drive hurts.

For now, may something touch their hearts, even for a moment. May that moment of softening shift something in the way we unfold.

This is our world to love - its the one we’ve been given. There isn’t another quite like it... cherish it. I want to be clear that I don’t mean that we should cherish shittiness as in, allow it, feed it, or like it.. Love sees clearly. Love discerns. Love protects. Love speaks truth firmly. Love says no to harm. Love cries out for justice. May we cherish fiercely, as a mother would protect their child.

‘Even as a mother protects with her life her child, her only child, So with a boundless heart should one cherish all living beings’