Tear gas, helicopters, and a meditation

I have been operating on two channels the last few days. I've had a four-day migraine, and I've been meeting with a group of Buddhist activists via zoom and phone to plan a public meditation (both in-person and via Livestream) for June 13, honoring Black Lives.

I spent an absurd number of hours trying to craft an event description for Facebook that says what we want to say about this. This paragraph is something I rewrote at least fifty times, and I think the final version is pretty much on target: We will say the names of loved ones lost to police brutality in Portland and beyond, and we will take strength from the words of Black spiritual teachers. Breathing in, we acknowledge our privilege and George Floyd's dying words: "I can't breathe." Breathing out, we reshape a world in which Black Lives Matter.

The two white spots in the sky above the city are a search light and one of the news helicopters. Many of my dear friends were gassed last night, and some are still vomiting this morning. I am furious with the Mayor and Police Chief.