Photo from NBC News
“We stand together in solidarity with our partners and children for the protection of our rights, our safety, our health, and our families – recognizing that our vibrant and diverse communities are the strength of our country.”
-Women’s March on Washington Mission & Vision
I was in NYC during the march. Our hotel just a couple blocks from Trump Towers. The bus to the city on Friday simmered with energy and bright eyes. Strangers striking up conversation. We were moving in synch, with a common purpose.
Going to the March.
Except that I wasn’t going to be marching. I wanted to. I believe strongly in the mission of the March. I believe in the power of the voice of the masses, standing together, standing strong, uniting in peace.
I was going to New York with my daughter for college interviews. While I wouldn’t be present for the interviews, I needed to be near her. Available. She had to be my first priority.
While I longed to share my voice with the masses, while I longed to stand among my fellow women (and men, and children) and chant for our rights, our safety, our health, our families, I needed to be on the other side of the Park, separate from the crowd.
But I knew I could be a part of the March, from a distance.
So while my daughter was interviewing, I stole away from the college and found a dry bench in Central Park, among the Saturday runners and dog walkers. I sat with the sun on my face, my bag between my knees. I lowered my gaze, breathed deeply, and began to meditate. I sent my energy to the masses and to the cause.
My participation was quiet. I wasn’t bouncing off a multitude of emboldened bodies. I wasn’t raising my voice together with them. But I was participating.