yesterday i visited a local lgbtq center to find out about the resources they offer. they had a stack of printouts on ways to deal with the Pulse tragedy. but tucked in a bookshelf was an older brochure for a gay-friendly vacation to orlando. i kindly, sadly, turned the brochure in to the front desk. no one needs to see that right now.
this morning at the gym, the instructor told us to lie flat on our backs, then bring our right shoulder to our left knee and pulse. pulse. pulse.
the echo of that word, over and over again, unrelenting, is still in my head.
last tuesday, a teenage girl was killed in a shooting in broad daylight, during rush hour, not even a block from a clients’ office, where i would have been if i didn’t video-conference in that day.
i was reminded through facebook that last year, 6 irish victims were killed by a faulty balcony just blocks from my home.
also this time last year: charleston. people shot for being black and christian.
in 2010, the bishop at my mormon home congregation was shot and killed at his church, just as services were ending. killed for being a mormon leader.
and here i am, with the audacity to have a pulse.
here i am, alive, despite a universe stacked against life.
here i am, with no guarantee that i will be.
what am i going to do with my still-beating pulse?
what are you going to do with yours?