I was only a few pages into Karen Walrond's "The Lightmaker's Manifesto: How to Work for Change Without Losing Your Joy" when I began to realize that my reading posture had changed.
There are books that you read as a casual extra to a busy day.
There are books that help you fall to sleep. There are books with which you unwind after a busy day or a stressful week. There are books that engage. There are books that entertain. There are books that inspire. There are books that challenge.
Then, there are those rare literary experiences where you find your entire being shifting as you read. These are the books where we put away our distractions and give ourselves to the author's world in a way that demands the full presence of heart, mind, body, and soul.
These are the books that take our soul and rattle it around in all the best ways.
Okay, maybe not ALL the best ways. Sometimes, there's a little uncomfortable squirming in there.
These are the books that change our lives in both tangible and intangible ways.
Oh, and of course, I'm building to the simple fact that Walrond's "The Lightmaker's Manifesto" is, at least for me, such a soul-shifting, soul-rattling, squirm-inducing, light-manifesting literary beacon of sorts.
I was only a few pages into "The Lightmaker's Manifesto" when I realized I'd set aside my distractions and contorted my body into some weird shape that immersed me in Walrond's inspirational meets perspirational universe.
After all, we're not really "inspired" unless we're called to action. "The Lightmaker's Manifesto" is a call to action.
I should explain a little bit about my own universe. It may very well help explain why "The Lightmaker's Manifesto" speaks to me with the vibrancy of a church organ as if I were sitting right next to it.
I'm a paraplegic/double amputee with spina bifida who's managed to survive 50+ years past my life expectancy. I'm also a longtime activist whose primary method of activism, affectionately known as "The Tenderness Tour," ended in late 2019 after 30 years not because I felt done with it and not because I'd somehow ended violence in the lives of children but because the physical strain of having wheeled over 6,000 miles by wheelchair had finally become physically too demanding to continue in a way I could convince myself was healthy.
I'd always promised I'd quit if it became abusive to me. I'd reached that point.
While I'm far from done as an activist, the truth is my soul has been restless as there was nothing quite like my Tenderness Tour and I've struggled to adapt to life without it.
"What's next?" is what I keep asking myself.
I've struggled to answer the question.
Into this scenario arrives "The Lightmaker's Manifesto," a work by Walrond - a leadership coach, lawyer, photographer, and activist - that serves as a reminder that joy is an essential part of activism. They are quilted together like a finely woven tapestry. It is arguable, I suppose, that my "burn-out" wasn't so much emotional as physical. However, it was no less profound. This burn-out wasn't so much the fault of anyone or anything including myself. It was the result of 30 years of a wondrous journey that most would say transcended what should have been my physical abilities.
In fact, it was this physical journey that took me from someone living on disability and turned me into an independent living college graduate in the workforce and living in a home I own and doing a myriad of things most would have considered impossible.
Simple things. Meaningful things.
How do I find that light again now that my body has changed and demanded self-care?
"The Lightmaker's Manifesto" has helped illuminate this activist's heart moving forward.
Instead of merely reading "The Lightmaker's Manifesto," I found that I began dialoguing with it. I found that I was stopping, taking notes, writing down ideas, and even following exercises that technically didn't come until book's end but that I was fully absorbing even as Walrond's storytelling continued.
"The Lightmaker's Manifesto" became an experiential book for me as almost immediately I found myself putting these ideas into actions and began reimagining what my activism could look like in a way that is both meaningful and filled with the joy I experienced traveling the roads by wheelchair and meeting people 1:1.
I began to tangibly realize the skills, actions, and values that bring me joy and to get back in touch with the causes that pique my curiosity. I embraced the words of Walrond's fellow activists including several whose works I've read including, most recently, Valarie Kaur.
I began to realize that many of the ingredients that led to my years of activism - integrity, joy, relationship, and interdependence - could be successfully reimagined and nurtured toward new manifestations of my passions and curiosities.
Oh, and that was really the thing here. Instead of withdrawing into my grief and resignation, I began to feel that curiosity rising again.
I stopped feeling sorry for myself without translating that into an absence of self-care. I accepted, I suppose, that this end was necessary physically but it wasn't the end of my activism - simply the end, perhaps, of one expression of it.
Oh my.
"The Lightmaker's Manifesto" is a weaving together of Walrond's personal and professional experiences along with the relationships and star circles she's grown along the way. It's a call to action not for the sake of action but for the sake of humanity and joy.
"The Lightmaker's Manifesto" is, for me, a lighted path toward more meaningful activism and toward a personal joy that allows activism to be sustained. It's a manifesto of light that calls us not just into being activists but also into being advocates for ourselves and our fellow activists.
Perhaps, more than anything, "The Lightmaker's Manifesto" is for me a reminder that showing up with joy is in itself activism and that some of our greatest activists, Audre Lord being a tremendous example, are our most vulnerable and transparent activists.
For me, "The Lightmaker's Manifesto" is a celebration of the tapestry of activism and its many diverse expressions. It's a reminder that, for me, even as my physical being changes my activism can be expressed in a myriad of ways when I do what brings me joy and explore the gifts, skills, beliefs, and relationships that have long guided my activism.
Quite simply, "The Lightmaker's Manifesto" is my not so gentle reminder that it's time to get back to work.