What if this darkness is not the darkness of the tomb, but the darkness of the womb? - Valarie Kaur
I first heard these words in 2016. I was startled and captivated by the juxtaposition of such opposing images. I was moved by the question that allowed me to look at our times from more than one point of view. I was grateful for the gift of hope, of potential, in the midst of dark times. The lines have swirled through my mind ever since, popping up when most needed.
A few days ago, I remembered them again.
This morning, I went hunting for the source of the question and found it in Valarie Kaur’s prayer, A Sikh Prayer for America on November 9th, 2016, and a speech she gave on December 31, 2017 to a congregation at Metropolitan African Methodist Episcopal Church in Washington, DC. The Washington Post published an article about her speech with the transcript and a link to the video.
In her speech and prayer, Kaur speaks of the hate and anger in this country and resulting brutality, starting with her grandfather’s imprisonment after landing on our shores, imprisoned for his crime of having dark skin. But unlike the people who jailed her grandfather, Kaur extends compassion to those who may or may not be similar to her in looks or outlooks.
Now it is time to breathe. But soon it will be time to push; soon it will be time to fight — for those we love — Muslim father, Sikh son, trans daughter, indigenous brother, immigrant sister, white worker, the poor and forgotten, and the ones who cast their vote out of resentment and fear.
As I read and listened to the different versions of her words, I saw that they were more powerful than I remembered and even more important now. I recommend reading and listening to them all. The version below of “A SIKH PRAYER FOR AMERICA ON NOV 9, 2016” is from her website, which also includes the audio tape of her reading the prayer.
In our tears and agony, we hold our children close and confront the truth: The future is dark.
But my faith dares me to ask:
What if this darkness is not the darkness of the tomb, but the darkness of the womb?
What if our America is not dead but a country still waiting to be born? What if the story of America is one long labor?
What if all the mothers who came before us, who survived genocide and occupation, slavery and Jim Crow, racism and xenophobia and Islamophobia, political oppression and sexual assault, are standing behind us now, whispering in our ear: You are brave? What if this is our Great Contraction before we birth a new future?
Remember the wisdom of the midwife: “Breathe,” she says. Then: “Push.”
Now it is time to breathe. But soon it will be time to push; soon it will be time to fight — for those we love — Muslim father, Sikh son, trans daughter, indigenous brother, immigrant sister, white worker, the poor and forgotten, and the ones who cast their vote out of resentment and fear.
Let us make an oath to fight for the soul of America — “The land that never has been yet— And yet must be” (Langston Hughes) — with Revolutionary Love and relentless optimism. And so, I pray this Sikh prayer:
Nanak Naam Chardi Kala,
Tere Bane Sarbat Da Bhalla“In the name of the Divine within us and around us, we find everlasting optimism.
Within your will, may there be grace for all of humanity.”
What’s Your Story?
I’ve always been taken by the transformative power of words and believe we can build bridges or tear them down by the words we use, the stories we tell.
Valarie Kaur’s speech and prayer are vivid examples of this. Her words describe the darkness and yet offer light, they call on us to recognize the troubled history and present days of our country and acknowledge people’s pain, but rather than leave us there, her words call us to be better, do more, and give us the energy to do so.
I created Building Bridges Word by Word to be a space where we can read each other’s reflections on sayings, quotes, songs, or poems that are meaningful to us. By writing and reading each other’s stories, we can share what these words have to say to us and others can figure out what they say to them. And maybe, just maybe, we can discover that sometimes they say the same things to each of us. And when they don’t, we can learn from those who have different perspectives.
As I dove down the rabbit hole to unearth Kaur’s words, I discovered there was much more to her speech and learned more of what she’s doing now through her Revolution of Love. It was an inspiring exploration.
I do this work to try to add some light to the darkness that surrounds us, to build bridges to each other. But I also do it for me. The time I spent tracking down her speech and prayer, reading them, listening to them, and writing these few paragraphs lifted my spirits. It took away the doldrums of a Monday morning. It made me feel better able to put one foot in front of another, sensing that there is a pathway forward – even if I can’t always see it.
What if this darkness is not the darkness of the tomb, but the darkness of the womb? - Valarie Kaur
If these words move you as they do me, I hope you’ll take them with you and see how they may fit in your life. I also hope you’ll share how they have meaning for you. Or how other lines have had this kind of impact on you. I think you’ll find the time spent on this a welcome respite from the complicated mix of emotions you may be feeling these days.
Your reflection will be a part of the bridge we are building over our divides.
How to get started? Click on the button below for more information, the story guidelines, and a form for submitting your reflection. Then we’ll work with you to post your story here on Substack and on the Building Bridges Word by Word website.
Questions? Email us at mscribner.buildingbridgeswbw@gmail.com. We look forward to hearing from you!
I love this, Megan! The womb is a perfect metaphor for how I feel. I, too, believe that something new is being birthed - and that it will be something to celebrate.
I have posted recently too featuring Valerie Kaur, a favorite of mine.