Women’s March

I just joined the Disability March, which was a pleasant surprise to discover – especially since I cancelled my reservation to March in NYC is Saturday. See explanation below:

Decided not to go to the Women’s March in NYC after much deliberation and many signs from the Divine – that deep reflection, prayer, meditation, and even some grieving is needed from me more than my presence at the March. Despite wanting approval from others and wanting to be a part of this, I’m following my guidance. I believe every action and thought is powerful. This is not about my physical and mental health or courage. It is about making a conscious decision. I’ll be giving my seat and signs away to someone who wants to go.

I’ve known that my soul is starving to write — write about this March, write about my frustrations with activism, write about my personal relation to this big picture… Don’t ask me why I resist writing. I don’t know. It makes no sense since it is nourishment to me. I am grateful for this little push that actually stuck and I plan to write some more – after I pay my damn bills, which I’ve been resisting as well. I may be in a little depression (pretending that I’ve ever been out of it). Me and at least 25% of the US are pretty depressed at my estimation. That’s not including people all over the world biting their nails over what this giant infant will do.

I made this meme for my application to join the March. I hate putting my face on the internet, but a gnarly belly button doesn’t bother me.



I also had to write a “why do I want to join the Disability March” essay under 300 words. At first, I wondered how I would get past 10 words. Then, I ended up whittling it down before I could get it all out. (See below.)


I planned to attend the Women’s March over a month ago with concern over whether I would be feeling well enough on the 21st. If I did go, I would have to dehydrate myself, miss meals, and wear leakage protection. I would be down for the count days afterward. Prayer, meditation, and writing would be the best use of my specific talents and more energy efficient.
I was willing to go because I value human rights and the planet. We need to protect women and girls from physical and verbal abuse and slavery. We need to protect women’s rights to healthcare, freedom of choice, and equal pay. We need to protect the rights of physically and mentally disabled people, people of all skin tones, origins, beliefs, sexual preferences, gender identities, and socio-economic situations. We need to protect our Mother Earth who nourishes and shelters our animal cousins and us.

I march because it is a matter of life and death. I march because my nephews, niece, all the children and their children deserve to be nourished and sustained by this beautiful planet. I march for peace.

I watched as legislators chipped away at women’s rights to healthcare and voter’s rights. I watched as they made it easier for corporations to profit off the people. I watched as people were bombed by drones; shot with rubber bullets, water cannons, and clubbed for protecting their water source; as police murdered black men and women all over this country, as privileged white men raped women without consequence and killed out of hate.

I didn’t just watch. I marched. I spoke. I wrote. I sang. I donated. I organized.

I march to wake up those who are sleeping. I march to build our Power. I march because the world needs us.


Now I’m wondering how I forgot to mention that my life is going to be seriously fucked if I lose my healthcare, Social Security, and other social services. I try not to go there. No use in feeling bad about things that aren’t happening. That is wasted time.




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