It’s been just over a year since the car accident. In the past few weeks, I’ve encountered a surge of energy and increased brain activity. Suddenly I am not afraid of falling down the stairs and the lightness I’ve felt all year, instead of passing, is settling in deeper. At one point last week I was distressed, feeling like I didn’t know who I was anymore. So I did some research and discovered that this is common for a year after burr hole surgery to release the blood that’s putting pressure on one’s brain. My autonomic nervous system is finding its balance.

A year. And it could take a few more years. I’ve been reliving last winter, when I spent my time lying on a cot by the fireplace with all the lights out because my eyes were so hyper-sensitive to light. I remember the deep nourishment from the coals and the visits from my friends.

A voice in my head is saying, “I almost died!”, over and over. I suppose it is the first taste of living to make me realize how bad it had been. This memory of being completely out of control of my own body, so close to the end has changed me forever. When I drive by crumpled cars and ambulances on the freeway, my heart goes out to whomever’s life has been disrupted. I feel the beginning of their long path to somewhere unwanted. The impact. The injury. The insurance. The lawyers. The bills and confusion.

The memory of losing my mind – and a few days of time, of the ICU and the fear cracks me open as I look at the photo Renee Nicole Good’s car against the Minnesota snow, blood coloring her airbag, her children’s stuffed animals pouring out from the glove compartment. The ICE agent said to the physician that wanted to take her pulse, “I don’t care.”

How can you not care?

How can you not care?!

What has happened to this world, where human beings have become so outside themselves, they are not phased by the broken body of another, lying right behind them?

She was murdered. I figure, if I can make just one person feel a little better… I open the GoFundMe page for Renee Nicole Good’s family. In less than 24 hours, it has already collected over a million dollars. I don’t care. A million is nothing compared to a lost mother or lover or daughter. I am giving. I see the numbers and read the comments and tears well up in my eyes.

A new alert pops up on my feed. In less than 24 hours since Minnesota, a couple in Portland have been shot in their car by federal agents. The leaders of these two cities, in solidarity, urge us to protest but to do so peacefully. The phrase of the week is “Don’t take the bait.” I am in disbelief but it sounds like wisdom. I hope it is truly powerful. How can we make change? How can we really push? We are in a closing moment when the power of Democracy has one last sliver of a chance to swing us back. If it doesn’t, more and more people realize, it will be too late. The press conference is over and realize I am weeping.

“I almost died!”, again and again. Then, why am I here if not to do more than bask in gratitude for my new lease on life? What power do we have in an already liberal state?

I know there are things to do, truly, so I can’t end this blog until I list a few to inspire others. I pray that you post your own ideas in the comments:

– Call or write your representatives and thank them for holding the line.
– Donate to groups that are doing hard work that we cannot.
– Attend high-media events to help keep the conversation in the news.
https://seattle-protests.org/ for local folks
– Reach out to marginalized people and let them know you are there.
– Join the groups that monitor ICE if you have the means.
– Divest from credit cards from Bank Of America and other such institutions.
– Research your own bank. I am switching over to Beneficial Bank from Portland.
– Keep being a good person and supporting others to be their best selves.

Every human, loved and nourished, angry and bitter, every person is an agent for change.

Love,

Tasara