In high school, I threw a party while my mom was out of town. After I’d cleaned up, I gushed on the phone to a friend, “There was an alligator in my house!”
He gently asked how many drinks I’d had and suggested it was time for bed.
While I’d had plenty of frozen daiquiris, there had, in fact, been an alligator in my house.
A friend of a friend found a baby gator at his hunting camp, put a leash on it, and adopted it as an ill-advised pet. He brought it to my party like a wildly inappropriate emotional support animal.
Decades later, alligators continue to charm me. They feel like creatures from prehistoric times or Greek mythology.
In a moment, an alligator could crush you with one decisive chomp of her jaw or a well-timed flick of her massive tail. But the majority of the time, the alligator feels like a master of leisure and delight, spending her days smiling and lounging while she absorbs the sunshine.
In this season of profound suffering and chaos, I want to emulate the gator, to recognize my strength (see the actions I’m taking below) while simultaneously resting deeply and with joy.
Most days, I walk along the bayou or in the park near my house. While it’s rare to spot them in my part of town, I’m constantly scanning for alligators. It delights me just to look.
I think about the saying that even the darkest clouds have the sun shining on the other side. I apply it to alligators.
I think, even if I can’t see alligators, I know they’re in the waters nearby.
To hope and inspiration wherever we can find it,
Lelia
PS Adding a little notes of encouragement about Joy and Justice to keep myself (and hopefully y’all!) engaged:
Joy
My bestie Laura Sanders illustrated this alligator-themed coloring sheet and gave me permission to share it with y’all!
Justice
The activists I trust most tell me that contacting my elected officials is a vital tool in our struggling democracy. Still, it’s hard to feel the impact, and leaving voicemail after voicemail can feel like a slog.
I’m considering making myself a sticker chart, in which I get a sticker for each call I make via 5Calls.org. Perhaps I’ll start a group text for loving accountability and encouragement.
If you’ve been calling, how do you stay motivated? I’d love to hear your strategies in the comments. If you haven’t been calling, what do you think would help?
Louisiana readers, this is your loving reminder to mark your calendar for the March 29 election. I’m voting an emphatic “hell no” on all the amendments and organizing a fun event. Stay tuned.
Making the voicemail calls can be like shouting into the wind, but I literally just received a callback from our very Maga congressman, Steve Scalise's office. It felt good to say, "Even though I agree with him on almost nothing, I appreciate the call." As hard as it is, keeping even the facade of civility and respect feels like a win. Keep the faith, everyone!