For Aaron.
People are waking up.
They’re waking up to systems they don’t trust.
They’re waking up to institutions that don’t serve them.
They’re waking up to the reality that they do not want state‑run media or ICE or any machinery that treats human beings as disposable.
And in the middle of that awakening — in the middle of the dust and the ashes and the clarity — our job is to offer grace.
Not grace as in “let people off the hook.”
Not grace as in “pretend everything is fine.”
Not grace as in “be polite.”
Grace as in:
- hold space for people who are just now seeing what you saw years ago
- refuse to shame people for waking up late
- welcome people into the light without demanding they apologize for the dark
- remember that awakening is disorienting
- remember that clarity can feel like loss
- remember that people don’t change because they’re cornered — they change because they’re received
Grace is not softness.
Grace is strength without cruelty.
Grace is the thing that keeps awakening from turning into a purity test.
Grace is the thing that keeps clarity from becoming contempt.
Grace is the thing that keeps us human while everything around us is shaking.
Ash Wednesday is the day we strip ourselves bare — and when we do, we remember that we are dust.
And if we are dust, then so is everyone else.
So when people wake up — whether it’s to injustice, to corruption, to systems that harm, to truths they didn’t want to see — our job is not to say “finally.”
Our job is to say:
Welcome.
Let’s walk forward together.
That’s grace.
That’s the work.
That’s the direction.
Scored by Copilot. Conducted by Leslie Lanagan.
Stories That Are All True 