Living in the unknown is more comfortable as an idea than it is a reality. When we find ourselves in the in-between, we cannot help but reach out for stability, flailing our arms like the blindfolded negotiating newly arranged furniture. Alas, it is no use. The exit and the answers elude us, just beyond our imaginations. Until we notice the caterpillar. By seeking stillness in our stew, the darkness will shed its shell.

The tightness in my jaw from holding back tears of sorrow. The rise in my shoulders lifted by societal tension. The upset in my stomach when reading my cousin’s racial slurs. The thickness of my tongue when I am out of words but still have something that must be said. The twitch in my legs when I am sitting still and would rather act. So much I can choose to ignore. So much I could choose to do differently. Listen. Listen to my body. Listen to the cries. Honor. Honor what my

Privilege. Privileges. Privileged. Sounds almost like it can be earned, like I did something – deserved. So seductive, this fallacy. Then I don’t have to feel badly. Then I don’t have to feel guilt for my advantage. Then I don’t have to change my leverage. How do I set it down, this mantle of ease? How do I even the playing field, heavier than concrete? How do I change the wind so it is at everyone’s back? When do I stop making this all about my lack? When do I stop needing t