There is perhaps one thing that is innate to us all and that is the need to survive. I’m not proud of the lengths I’ve gone to protect myself from perceived predators, but I’ve survived. But, I was born with this brain that considers death and guilt and purpose, and wonders if I’m better than a beast. And, I realize right now, that I’m not. And, I blessed the chicken for giving its life so I could eat dinner. I’ve survived, and my intelligence, for the most part is intact. So, with this brain and some time over the summer, what’s it going to be? I am tentatively reaching out: Lunch with a friend, Federal grant workshop with a colleague, LA FPI gathering, Throw Me On the Burnpile and Light Me Up, folk music, Crystal Cove Beach Cottages… Baby steps. I gave myself permission to take the time to heal. Not healed yet, but in the process of healing. So, in the meantime, before the writing starts, I curated a speech transcript. A living history. Doing it the Erica Bennett way. No apologies.
