Yesterday, I stood among thousands coming together to fill every key downtown intersection in St. Petersburg’s Hands Off protest—a gathering not of spectacle, but of presence. It wasn’t rage that stayed with me afterward, but something quieter. Something deeper.
What I’m sharing today is a reflection that grew out of that experience. It’s not commentary—it’s what remained in my chest after the signs were lowered and the noise receded.
*If you’d prefer to read, you’ll find the written version of this reflection here:
And for context, the piece that came just before it:
This Is What Hope Looks Like
The sun is just coming up over Williams Park. I’m standing at my window, coffee in hand, watching the quiet geometry of the streets below. In a little while, I’ll take Wolfie—my dog—on his regular morning loop around the post office and along the edge of the park. He’ll sniff the same trees.
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