The below writing is from March 30th, 2020 – and posted to Medium. So much has changed for me since that time – from leaving my life, music, and people behind in Arizona; dealing with the cognitive dissonance of trying to have tolerance for, or compassionately understand, at all, any right-wing bullshit; starting over on the east coast; caregiving for my mom; my mom dying; taking my time; and, allowing in healing, love, and the willingness to be curious, creative, playful, loving and happy (even when I am feeling grief).

~ ~ ~

What have you got (to say)?

This piece was in response to a friend talking about her overwhelming feelings of anger regarding this pandemic we are in the middle of. It is amazing how much childhood stuff this situation has brought up. There are themes that I have been meaning to explore for a long time — or really — to write about — the exploring has been going on for a lifetime. And before the virus exploded, I was looking at how I want to live my life (as I do constantly) and thought I might finally be strong enough to write the memoir — or at least fiction based on real life. Anyway — here was my response.

Dear —

This is so beautiful. I am having a hard time right now putting into words my anger and my terror. Your determination to stand up is helping me immensely right now. Your story is so well-written, I feel like I can be standing with you and feeling it.

The anger I feel is so big it is hard to breathe. I think I need to dive into it — writing is so helpful. Today I am going to get on my bike and ride up to Elden Lookout road and see how far I can go (it’s likely very muddy, so it may not be far). Nature is a big reset for me. Then, the writing.

My partner will not stop talking about the New World Order and it feels like being strangled. He is angry. It’s a powerless feeling turning over your power to a failed system. I understood that at such a young age, but to be reminded of it over and over again is making my heart hurt. At first I thought he was trying to get me to understand his point of view — but I think he just needs to vent. His perspective, and some of his political points of view are so different from mine, so [toxically] male — even though we come to the same conclusion. This is a weird dance, he is such a loving, feeling sensitive man — he loves the world, he is hurting for the world. It’s hard to see him so full of hurt.

This morning I said to him, “I fell out of the practice of my affirmations and envisioning my future, and all the tools I have for making big change in my life. Things are big right now — and now is the time to use the tools. I was living the life I wanted, making all those paintings, and making music — being in bands. And just as I released the paintings and I was ready to shift my focus back to more teaching and music, the pandemic hit. I have to get back into looking at how I want my world to be while simultaneously dealing with this day-to-day stuff. Having no vision for the future is crushing. I can’t give in to the uncertainty of it all — I have to believe that I am, that I can, create my future.”

I have done so much work around money and feelings of self-worth and love. And it really feels like a test right now. Especially since I decided to change how I earn money — through art and music and teaching. I was pretty much squeezed out of the university anyway, so I took my chance. Every single gig has been canceled — even out until June. Working through the anxiety to put the new creative ideas around money into action has been difficult. Each day I feel a little stronger, but what once took me 30 minutes now takes me two hours.

I know I am not alone in this.

I don’t want to be homeless. That is probably my biggest secret fear. Figuring out what home even means has been the struggle of my lifetime.

I am definitely reliving what it was like to live on the streets — when I was 16/17 years old I was a squatter living in an abandoned building on the Lower East Side of New York. You figure out how to survive no matter what. I don’t ever want to go back there, but I remember getting the distinct feeling that living on the streets was preparing me for something to come. Eck. I learned where to find food, which restaurants would throw away their leftovers packed in foil, where to find water to bathe with, which bars were friendly to underage kids (sometimes staying there til closing just to be warm), how to negotiate my way out of danger, when to stay quiet and when to speak up, how to avoid violence. It was a very black and white world, one where fear is so rock bottom that you have no choice but to become fearless.

By the time I was 14, I was well aware that authority figures would fail me. I was on my own. This is something I’ve wanted to write about for a long time — but could not do because it hurt too much. And just before this outbreak, I was saying, I think I am ready. And reading your story — I realize — yes — I think one of the things that will get us through is our stories.

Wow — well, I didn’t think I was going to write that much. Just that your story is so moving and powerful. You are powerful. And I am grateful for your story and your courage.

I keep reminding myself to ask — what’s the gift? There is definitely the gift of going deep (no choice?), getting real, and looking fear and anger directly in the eye and allowing it’s expression by asking — what have you got?

So much love and gratitude!

Holly
[March 30th, 2020]

May 19, 2025
Hudson Valley, NY

I feel like I am at the beginning of rebuilding a life I love – after so much clarity on what doesn’t work for me. I am so grateful to be here.

image: happy ghost Iquitos Peru © Holly Troy 2011