Orlando

I have been waiting to write about the tragedy in Orlando. Clinging to news reports, briefings, and viral videos circulating on social media, the events of this Sunday past have forever been imprinted on my heart. Like 9/11/01, the stirrings of the morning—where I was, who I was with, what I was doing, where I went in the midst of such tragedy throughout the day are, and will remain crystal clear for the duration of my life.

It was like any other Sunday morning. I tossed anxiously in my bed, fearful [as always] that I would oversleep to teach my 9:45am yoga class. I picked my phone up, carelessly scrolling, then put it down to only repeat this charade on and off for some while. Finally, something caught eye—“My heart is with the victims and survivors of the attack in Orlando.”

WHAT?!

Immediately, I popped out of bed and started feverishly googling terms like “Orlando, attack, shooting…” My heart sank. As I delved deeper and deeper into the early morning shooting at Pulse nightclub, the numbness of the reality started to wash over me—there were 50 innocent people dead at the hands of one person—one person—one person—one person.

I cried.

I sobbed and wailed by myself in my apartment. Tears strewn down my face as I struggled to understand the horror that resides in some people’s hearts and I wept for the families, the victims, and the survivors.

I considered subbing out my yoga class. Like 9/11, I knew people would be glued to all news outlets and selfishly I wanted to stay home so I could support those who needed it and not miss one bit of breaking news. But then it hit me—I had to go to class. Like any and all terrorist attacks, we must refuse to alter our lives and live in fear. I had to go to class and hold space for the beautiful souls plucked from our grasp too soon. As a yoga instructor, teacher, friend, wife, sister, teacher, writer—whatever, I had an obligation to lead my class and honor the victims with a moment of silence and combating such raw hatred with pure and honest love.

As my students shuffled in for class, the music pumping, I wondered if I had the capacity to hold myself together to lead them through opening meditation and then the ensuing workout. I doubted myself, and my body trembled with nerves and sadness. I decided to keep things simple—not get too deep into the who-done it and all, so the focus really was on the fallen, the survivors and their families.

I committed our class to love. To rising up as a community—no matter your religion, political affiliation, gender, sexual orientation, socio-economic status, etc. We held hands with those around us. We clasped hands with people we didn’t know, squeezing one another as we leaned on each other. Community is supporting people whether you know them or not. Community is representing one another when others cannot represent themselves. To be a community means to be a voice, support, and undying love for one another—no matter what.

On Sunday, in a yoga room far from Orlando we saw our comrades and we felt deeply for them. We bound ourselves to strangers, not because we were told to, but because we wanted to and it felt right. We held hands several times during class in solidary to show that nothing can and will break us. Our faces ripe with sweat and muscles shaking, we vowed to never turn our backs on each other and to be strength for those who need it. What happened in Orlando is not specific to anyone group—it IS all of us. This is not a solely a gay rights issue or even a Latino issue. We mustn’t start labeling these atrocities as such for it aims to further divide us. What happened last Sunday could have been anyone of us enjoying life, libations, music, and singing and dancing. We are ALL Orlando. Gay, straight, bi, black, white, Asian, Jewish, Christian, and so so so much more— We are ALL Orlando.

We are ALL Orlando.

We are ALL Orlando.

We are ALL Orlando.

We are ALL Orlando.

We are ALL Orlando.

Rise up in love, stand up in love, and refuse to be broken down. As the great Martin Luther King Jr. said, “Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that.”