I have become numb to your calls to action. I have lost faith in the possibility of change. I have seen no reason to remain optimistic. I have not given up, per se, but chosen to save my strength for running.
I love the earth. I love its trees, its birds, its rivers, and valleys. I love the sound the ocean makes when it tries to drown me. I love the crash of rockfall early in the morning. Sunsets regularly startle me. Dogs chasing sticks force a smile across my face. It’s easy to find beauty if you look for it.
But inside, I feel dead. A part of me dies every time I hear a car horn sound. Or when I see grown men argue in the surf. A part of me dies when the garbage can fills or the coffee I purchased comes in a plastic cup. A part of me dies when I acknowledge I’m not doing enough. After I while I look to what’s left and I find an empty shell. But even my tears carry no weight.
There will be no judgment day where “God” points his finger and sends us to our inevitable damnation. We have done this to ourselves. And we did so knowingly. We did this with denial in our heart, and greed in our mind. We did this to ourselves.
You did this.
I did this.
Now we will pay for what we have done. Not all of us. But some.
Many.
Most.
Today I’m not hoisting a sign or shouting at the deaf ears of government. I’m not posting to social media or engaging in “progressive debate.” No, today I’ll put on a brave face, surf in the ocean, share these words with those who care to read it, and spend the day alone. I’ll watch from afar as you fight for a worthy cause. And tonight, I will cry. Call me weak. Call me a coward. Call me disillusioned. Call me what you want. I’m done fighting.
These days I’m saving my strength, for running.