How to be a light / 10th November 2024

and why we must shine now more than ever

We aren’t the best at predicting the end of the world. There was the whole Y2K thing and then 2012, and I think we all survived unless we’re all ghosts at the same time, and that would be pretty rad. To avoid the birthing of a conspiracy theory, I will assume survival. This week has been hellish. I don’t want to get too much into the political state of this world, but what a horror show we’ve been witnessing lately. Not only is the American future terrifying, but I am also addressing the horrendous news of Iraq pushing back their age of consent.

Bleak doesn’t entirely cover how everything feels. Doomed feels accurate. There seems to be a regression within humanity. So much time has been spent fighting for rights that I fear will be taken away. There’s a rise in homophobia, racism and sexism, and equality is feeling as if it’s slipping back into the hibernation it was barely shaking off. We have never quite achieved equality, but there were moments when it felt like we were getting somewhere. I recently lost over three hundred followers standing up and telling people that if they have any homophobic part of them to unfollow me, and they did, but the sheer amount makes me sad beyond words, not for the loss but for the fact that so many felt so strongly about their hate towards love.

I feel like a record on repeat announcing that love is love is love. I have no idea how to project my voice above this wall I have been screaming into lately, but I’m just going to keep on screaming, and if you tire of me, then I’m not sorry. I will never comprehend love being a crime because it’s not a man and a woman. I don’t care what some religious text says. I don’t care if God peaks through the clouds and announces support for such hate; I will always support love. I will rebel against harmful things but never joy, freedom, or another’s feeling of belonging. The truth is, we will never kill hatred, but we can always love louder. We can be the accepting arms and welcoming shoulders. We can be fires in cold places and joy amongst the melancholy. As

Tyler Knott Gregson

said long ago, ‘Find my hand in the darkness and if we cannot find the light, we will always make our own.’ We can be the light in dark places. We can choose to shine despite their determination to dim us. If they want to make it harder, then so be it. We will still overcome. That’s not me saying it isn’t going to hurt; I am saying that despite the hurt, we will find heaven. It isn’t above some clouds in the faraway; it is right here with people with protest marches in their lungs with people who don’t actually give a fuck what you are, as long as you’re happy.

Above all things, I am just tired. Between the war and the weekly tragedies, it’s hard to be a supporter of humanity. I’m not proud to be human right now. As dreadful as it is to say, the apocalypse doesn’t sound like the worst idea. There have been multiple instances where it has felt like we need a reset recently. However, it is important to remember that hate is heavier than love, so we feel its weight more. However, love is not losing, and we must remember that. We have to open ourselves up and tell everybody we love that they’re loved, and if you’re scared, that’s okay because I am too, and so are many of us, but we are not alone. There’s still a North Star in the sky, and we still get to make our favourite sandwiches, and we still get to get together and laugh around full tables. In the midst of this tragedy, there is magic still sparkling in the close by.

I understand that the word doomed is such a dramatic word, and even though it can feel that way, there’s still so much here for us. We will get through this if we keep love centre. Everything will be alright as long as we keep speaking in stereo. We, the choir, against the chaos. I am hurting for things beyond my comprehension. I will not stand here for a moment and pretend I understand trans struggle, nor do I know what it is to love somebody and be labelled a criminal for it, but my imagined version brings me to my knees, and I know the real version is so much worse. I am lucky enough to wake up in a body that feels like mine, and I get to tell my wife I love her without feeling the need to whisper, so it would be outrageous to say to you that I get it completely. I can only feel it second hand, but good God, do I feel the pain. I can’t be silent when there is such a deafening static on every station. Whoever you love, whatever you identify as or whatever pain you feel, I am here. I can not promise complete comprehension, but you can have my attention, and I will listen for however long you need to be heard. I see you all amongst the smoke, so please keep shining. You are more lighthouse than you know, and now, more than ever, we are in desperate need of your shorelines.