Monday Meditation: Turning to(ward) ourselves to mend what needs mending
The Dark Forrest beckons us.
Dear Becoming Ones, 🌒
Today’s Monday Meditation arrives from a place I cannot quite name—
a place of emergence,
a place of becoming,
a place where grief and sorrow and fear
swirl together like weather systems we did not choose
but must now learn to read. 🌧️🌬️
This meditation is a slow drip.
Not a flood.
Not a solution.
Just a remembering.
A re-mem-ber-ing.
A stitching back together
of what has been scattered. 🧵
What would it mean this week
to re-member yourself—
not as an idea,
not as a role,
but as a body learning again
how to belong to itself?
How might we tend to ourselves
as gentle lovers? 💗
Not as projects.
Not as problems to be solved.
But as sacred sites of attention—
breathing, aching, alive.
And how might we tend to one another
as beloveds? 🤲🏽
Slowly.
Gently.
With compassion.
Compassion—com-passio—
to suffer with.
Not to fix.
Not to rush past.
But to remain.
To accompany.
To say with our presence: you are not alone here.
This past weekend,
I sat inside a grief retreat—
inside a kind of white space
where memory rose like breath.
And I found myself returning
to my white grandparents. 🕊️
They are part of the reason
I do not hate white people.
They loved me
as best they could.
And somehow,
that mattered.
Even as I trace the threads of my life—
through violence,
through absence,
through the ways I was shaped
to enact harm on command—
in classrooms,
in streets,
in churches—
still,
there were moments of love.
Small. Imperfect. Real.
And I am learning now
to gather those moments
not as justification,
but as material—
threads I can use
to mend what was torn.
I am learning to tend
to the places within me
that have not received love. 🌱
The unnamed places.
The unknown places.
The places still emerging.
This is slow work.
This is holy work.
This is the work
of becoming someone
who can hold themselves
without violence.
So today—
be gentle with yourself. 🫶🏽
As I am trying,
again and again,
to be gentle with myself.
Because part of turning away
from the hegemonic powers
that have betrayed us
is not only refusal—
it is also turning toward. 🔥
Toward compassion.
Toward agency.
Toward that which is Love.
I witnessed something this weekend.
Another possible world. 🌍✨
Not perfect.
Not complete.
But present.
People are ready.
Ready to turn toward one another.
Ready to witness grief
without looking away.
Ready to hold pain
without needing to dominate it.
This is the threshold we are standing in.
This is the emergence.
So this week,
let us practice:
✨ Re-membering ourselves
✨ Suffering with one another
✨ Moving with gentleness instead of force
✨ Trusting that something is already unfolding among us
Not later.
Not someday.
Now.
Benediction 🌿
May you be held in your own becoming.
May you find the courage to be gentle.
May you risk turning toward love,
even now.
And may we, together,
become the kind of people
who can meet this emerging world
with compassion strong enough
to remake it.
Paz y ternura,
Roberto+