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COVID Crisis Post 74: America is Broken.



I know, Day/Post 73 came and went without a post. It is the first time in nearly two and a half months I did not write one.


When I write a post, it typically takes me hours to do so. This is not an exaggeration. The process of jotting down my ideas, reorganizing those thoughts, and then rewording them to ensure I communicate my thoughts and feelings precisely and in a manner where they cannot be interpreted in any other way can take quite a bit of time.


And as I am not currently working due to my shoulder surgery, I have had more time to write as a result. But there have also been many days where it has been difficult to find the time - yesterday being one of those days. Between physical therapy, walking for my health, connecting with friends and family, and many others things, time seemed to just fly.


I spent last evening in Williamsburg hanging out with Milica. We walked around, had some wine, and chatted. The topic of my posts came up, and she said people really appreciate what I write. But she then stated, and I paraphrase:


"Do not always feel like you HAVE to write a post every day. Do not let the quality of your posts decline. You do not want to be the person who should have gone out on top but kept at it for a bit too long."


And I really took that to heart.


I came home late, and I began the process of writing Day/Post 73. But as I was writing it, I was tired, and I was not happy with the quality of my writing. There was no passion. It felt stagnant. It felt more like a chore. I want to write when it is cathartic for me, when my writing has meaning. And I did not have that feeling.


So I slept.


And I do not regret my decision.


In the past, most of my social media posts focused on positive moments in my life. Travel. Food. Friends. Family. I like to bring forth positive energy, to share the things where I am immersed in happiness. There is enough sadness in the world, enough negativity brought forth by so many, I want to counterbalance it the best I can.


Whenever I believe I have something meaningful to contribute to the public discourse, I will share those thoughts. Otherwise, it is too exhausting to voice my opinion on every situation in which I feel strongly. I feel my voice may become minimized, less effective.


I do not want to be seen as a human fire alarm, one whose voice eventually gets ignored.


This is not a criticism of those who choose to express themselves in this manner. I respect their choices, their determination, their views. I just do not have the capacity to fight every battle present in this world. So I pick and choose when to do so.


There are certain moments more impactful for me than others, moments where I have the urge, the need to share my voice.


Some of these moments have been personal. My dad passing away being the major one, which led me to write 108 posts in his memory so people could see Daddy through the eyes of his second child.


The pandemic brought another major moment where the need to educate the public about COVID-19, counter misinformation, defend science, and speak about mindfulness drove my desire to write.


And now, race is at the forefront. And the sad affairs of our country has been exposed in all its ugliness.


This pandemic has brought out the best in people, the worst in people. People were already at the edge of their patience, if any such patience even remained.


But in the case of Amy Cooper and George Floyd, this was the anvil that crushed the camel's back. Patience has been stamped out of existence for many. And only outrage remains.


The timing of the two events, coinciding within a day or so of one another, neatly and viciously brought to the forefront of the public consciousness the biggest issues surrounding race: white privilege, weaponization of race, implicit AND explicit racial bias, racial profiling, and police brutality.


It created the most perfect of storms, the most natural of disasters.


America is many things to many people. But for me, it is currently the following:


Broken. Embarrassing. Selfish. Shameful. Divided.


In my lifetime, I have never felt sadder for my country.


I have chosen to live in New York City, to pay the exorbitant costs associated with living here, for the sense of community I have not experienced anywhere else. It is not perfect by any means as we are all aware, but I feel like NYC is one of the last places in America that still feels the closest to the way America SHOULD feel. Not its current incarnation.


If that makes any sense.


If not, no matter. In any case, I will continue to share my thoughts whenever I believe they are worthwhile. Maybe daily, maybe not. But I want to thank you for all of your support - it has been truly humbling.


On that note, I will take my leave for today. Like the current weather in NYC, the forecast for the country looks very cloudy at the moment. But my hope is the sun will start peeking through, sooner rather than later, and begin to heal our country that is broken.


Because things which are broken can, at times, be rebuilt to be much stronger.


I truly hope this is the fate of our America. And not the much less pleasant alternative.


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