Thursday, June 4, 2020

"I am Tired" (Acyutya Gopi Dasi) tired. So incredibly tired. I have cried. I have searched. I have asked why. I have prayed. I have collapsed. I have had nightmares and shot up from a deep sleep. AND I have tried. TRIED. TRIED to cling to the Holy Name. And I am also tired. I have so much to say. And yet, I am not your token black friend. Nor am I simply your hot topic statement piece.

It is amazing. FRIENDS AND ELDERS who have never asked me my thoughts and views on ANYTHING either religious or irreligious are now asking for a statement piece. Was I not knowledgeable on ANYTHING before? 

Did it take another death before someone thought I had a voice that spoke AND ALSO sung? The Holy name is all important to me. I actually love Srimad Bhagavatam. I am a storyteller. I am an author. I wish I could grow up to be a Vedic Historian. And not many have asked me about these things.

They look and wonder “but racism hasn’t happened to you has it? Oh come on, but you’re not this body.” Oh I know I’m not this body. I’ve been whipped with that statement enough times and had it branded on my skin. I’ve choked on the philosophy I’ve been given in times when I’ve felt the deepest heartache. AND I love Govinda. I still want to love Govinda.

My silence in not speaking about part of the racism. Fear that if I speak, my service may not be there. Fear that if I speak, my friends will not be there. Fear that if I speak, my spiritual culture and community will turn ANOTHER blind eye toward me. But if I really believe in Govinda then He is the way above, around, and through fear. He is the fear of fear personified.

In a way I feel as though I am in another cage. Examined. Prodded. Poked at. Leered at. “Tell me your experience”. But that actually means “tell me I’m not the one doing it”. Truth is ... I’m not sure I can do that. I am not sure I can assure you that you aren’t racist. That’s for you to look inwardly and honestly speak with Paramatma and say. Because Krishna knows. And you know.

We know when the jokes are made and we stay silent. We know when the glances are passed and we stay silent. We know when the feelings turn sour and we stay silent. WE DO KNOW. And Krishna knows. I am tired. AND I continue to do the most safe thing.

I sing. While I cry. I sing of Govinda. While I ache. I sing of Govinda. While I burn inside. I sing of Govinda. While I lift my head against a veil of shame that has come upon me through no fault of my own. I sing of Govinda. While I beat my fists against a door to understanding, to hope, and to love that remains closed to me, the door to the hearts of others... I sing of Govinda.

And while I am a hot topic of conversation, and afterwards, when everyone will have convinced themselves that this fight is no longer important... that I am no longer important. I sing of Govinda. For that is my prayer. And my hope. And my soul’s legacy. I pray that I will be remembered as having had a voice. A voice filled with love for Govinda. A voice filled with love for Govinda’s friends which are each and every single one of you. A voice that makes the Lord of my heart proud.

If He can hear my voice... then that is all that matters. I can’t change the world. That is His domain. But I can love Him. And I can let that become my message.
Sing... If you’re talking to your friends now ... continue to speak to them. Tomorrow. A week from now. A month from now. All the people you’re  contacting now. Contact them in the future. Hear from them. Read with them. Chant with them. We are spirit souls. We are your friends. We have thoughts and hearts and realizations.

And while I can’t speak for all of us. I know that for some of us...

We are tired.

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