2 minutes of violence and a lot of buraucratic boredom

my arrest story is a lot less interesting than many others i have heard - but not so insignificant that it didn't hold a few curious revelations for me.

out of the entire cluster, i was the only one who expressed an actual desire to get arrested. not because i thought it was glamorous or anything stupid like that, but because the police have that much less power to intimidate me once i've gone through their bullshit. i don't pretend that this action really exposed me to the same kind of threat which might normally be experienced by someone from marginalized or third world communities. for them the brutality of the police state can have a much deadlier or devastating kind of impact, even rob them of their entire lives. still, in a critical way i've begun my own move away from the safety of my privilege, which brings me closer, step by step, into solidarity with those who experience the brunt of state violence.

my arrest - 2 minutes of violence and a lot of bureaucratic boredom. i was tackled roughly by some riot cops, my pants torn and my knees slammed on the pavement. my hand was cut on the gears of their bicycle, which they somehow used to pin me down. it was over quickly, and then i tried to stand tall and find my grounding again. the pagan cluster was screaming and cheering for me, and the intense blast of supporting energy they sent me nearly overwhelmed me in tears.

in fact, i was having trouble keeping my emotions in check, because i felt like weeping but i didn't want to break down in the streets. it didn't feel like a safe place, not in front of the cops and not the cameras, but i also felt like the biggest tool in existence for crying at such a staged fiasco. still, my body doesn't always agree with my mind, and i could feel my eyes starting to leak.

my friend paul followed me back across the police line. i could see him on the sidewalk from the state trooper car. he stayed with me and stood watch, and even when they moved me several blocks down the street he followed in his vigil. it was extremely comforting to have him there with me. i felt very blessed to have such support.

and then slowly i realized something very useful. i have worked hard to open my heart chakra in the past four years, and i typically run full-charged and open in that area. i've also developed a lot more sensitivity than i previously used to have, which is why small things in life (or even another person's sorrow) can cause me to start crying.

but in that situation, such a wide open heart was making it difficult to focus, so i did something i've never deliberately done before, i closed my heart and throat chakra. if i let off for a moment it would spring back open, but with a bit of focus and persistence i managed to dial down those centers to a bare whisper. sure enough, i couldn't feel the tears in the same way, i could rest composed (and closed) so that i could focus my energy in other ways.

what is the utility of apathy? i don't know, and heaven help me if one day i ever have to find out. there is a reason why a smile is a weakness in prison.

the rest of my story is less than interesting. it's a lot like the most boring parts of going to the doctor's office. tell the receptionist your name and information. make a copy of your driver's license. go sit here. now sit here. (at which point i found myself sitting next to a furious amy goodman, but that's another story) i was out in less than four hours, didn't even spend the night in a jail cell.

thankfully now i've been cured of my unhealthy desire for arrest. but it also had an unintended effect - now i'm even more inspired for healthy dissent and direct action.