To the Outsiders

To those of us who’ve spent a lifetime behind glass. Who have stood unwelcome, or unseen, just outside the circle of light. Who have looked longingly, then contemptuously, at the backs of the people who belong there.

Turn away. Take refuge in Nature. In animals and gardens and theater and books. See the beauty the others don’t make time to see. Find your identity, your belonging, at the margins. Stand at the edges and let your eyes adjust to the dark. Watch the fireflies and feel the promise of magic.

Turn back, just for a moment, to the place where you are not welcome, and place your hands on the cold glass.

Stand there, Beloved. Endure it. Breathe in your anger and despair and isolation. Draw the dark cloak of night around you and choose. You can kick and curse the glass and make it stronger. Or you can drop your fear and shame and realize, in a flash, that you have been looking into a mirror. See it now, and understand. See the love in your heart, the gifts you have to give, the light in your soul. See the fear and shame and desperate loneliness in the people on the other side. See their darkness reflected in you. Your light, shining in them.

You are the same.

If, for a second, you can find love and compassion in this scene, you can reach out a single finger to the glass that divides you and dissolve it into sand at your feet.

This is your magic, edge-dweller. It is the separation you have lived, the pain howling in your bones. It is the love blazing in your heart. It is the instant you realize that each of us, every thing here, only—always—wants to belong.

Offer belonging and feel it return to you. Love and be swept away in an overwhelming tide of light. Watch as separation dissolves at your feet.

As it, too, goes home.

Put your bare feet on the earth. Grow roots into the soil. Sing with the trees. Fall in love with spiders, hummingbirds, hawks. Watch as your love fills the sky. 

And now, Magician: Sew the whole goddamned world back together. Find Nature as you stride down the sidewalks of New York. Grow roots into the soil. Sing with the trees. Fall in love with the cursing, sweating guy hauling beer on a handtruck. With the old man carrying a scruffy poodle in his arms. Find Nature on a crowded airplane, jammed between the nervous woman in the fur coat and the man eating an over-ripe banana. Sew it together. Fall in love with it all.

Refuse to fake it. Claim your space and your self and rise up as the warrior you are. Own your power. Let the world break your heart open and dare to show it. Love it all. Love it all. World-builder, Outsider, Seer: bring us home.