Last night I watched the fireworks from my window. It wasn’t a city-sanctioned fireworks show, but thousands of illegal joyful celebrations, spread out in every direction as far as I could see. I didn’t know where to look, it was all so beautiful.
Thousands of mini revolutions, in the name of freedom.
Thousands of little rebels sending their defiance and unabashed wonder up into the sky, for hours, all night long.
That’s what the revolution is: all of us individually choosing what brings us total, complete joy, and letting it be seen against the dark of the night.
The thing inside us that says, I will not bend to the law, I will do whatever I damn well please—and they can’t arrest us all.
When I talk about the new world, it’s this.
It’s not arming ourselves with defenses.
It’s not a debate about who is right and who is wrong and what worldview is the truth.
It’s the courage in each of us to say:
This is my heart.
And my heart has a voice.
And this is my courage: to let my heart speak, to let my heart guide, to let my heart be seen.
To let nothing put it asunder.
To stand in defiance and say:
I will not be small.
I will not shrink.
I refuse to lie down and live my life in fear.
I choose to live in wonder—and let the wonder be seen.
What is it that God wants for us?
To let the flame in our hearts set a fire that can’t be tamed.
For each of us to set our part of the world on fire—
So that we can burn down the structures that tell us to behave,
That tell us we can’t win,
That tell us that the breadcrumbs of love we’ve accepted are all we’ll ever get.
This is the lie.
Love is everywhere.
It’s in the hummingbirds you see out the window,
It’s in the morning mist circling the trees,
It’s in the pool of sunlight that invites you to lay back down in bed.
Rebellion doesn’t look like Molotov cocktails.
It looks like turning off your alarm and taking the path that feels like peace in your body.
It looks like sitting in the fear that says you won’t survive if you do what delights you,
If you stop working hard,
If you stop selling yourself and your time and just sit by the river and cry.
The true rebellion is being with your fear, noticing what it’s telling you to do, and saying,
“Hush now, I know you’re scared. I’ve got you”
It’s crying through the pain and terror that comes with refusing to let it control you again,
Make your decisions for you again—
And instead loving the parts of you that are freaking the fuck out.
Strength does not come from weapons or willpower.
It comes from the ability to hold your wounds and love them
Until they stop thrashing and reaching for control—
And go limp with surrender.
It’s letting your fear reveal what you’re clinging onto so tightly in terror—
And gently, in time, putting it down.
It’s learning to listen to love instead. And trust it with everything.
It’s opening your eyes to see the illusions you’re using to keep the fear at bay.
To see the truths that you’ve been too scared to face—because they destroy the carefully constructed mechanism that keeps your fear tolerable.
What are you afraid to look at?
And what will it destroy?
That’s the illusion.
The truth will set you free—
But it might cost you all the things you’ve clutched in your sweet little hands that make you feel safe,
That makes the world seem predictable:
Your relationships.
Your work.
Your money.
Your lifestyle.
Your status.
Your identity.
But guess what?
It was never true that those things kept you safe.
They gave you the illusion of safety.
And what did you trade for it?
Your delight.
Your rest.
Your healing.
Your chance to be the one setting off fireworks in your backyard with abandon,
Shouting:
“I don’t care if it hurts, I don’t care if I lose my fingers, I choose joy! I choose beauty! And I’m lighting up the whole sky with it!”
And when we all do it together?
The authorities are powerless.
The law doesn’t matter.
It’s rendered obsolete.
This is how we choose to live in a different world—
The new world—
Where we are free to live in love.
Wonderfully written and well said.