Heartbeat.

The City Beautiful from the shore of Lake Eola

Orlando isn't called the City Beautiful for nothing. The above picture was taken with no filter and no adjustments on an iPhone camera. Man, I love this place.

This post is a departure from my normal entries in that the content is rather weighty. But, this particular subject is important. This city is my home, and I want to lend my voice to the things this beautiful city has witnessed. To the the history that - wanted or not - is forever etched on its streets.  The eyes of this magnificent place have watched in devastation as unspeakable acts of terror and violence have taken the lives of people who had so much left to give. But without pause, day gives way to night, and night gives way to day - over and over again. Regardless of how the world hurts, or cries, or mourns or celebrates, or loves, time marches on at its ever constant pace. Never slower, never faster, never ceasing. 

This week, Orlando is easing into the first anniversary of a day that history names as 'the deadliest mass shooting on U.S. soil.' Be that as it may, I will reiterate that Orlando will never be "home" to such a claim, as some news outlets so flippantly reported one year ago. It suggests that we can equate such a harrowing event with something like "Home of the Gators" or, "Home of the world's largest Pumpkin." Orlando is home to many wonderful, magical things. I however, refuse to give terror, injustice and hatred any name here. That is not the home that I know. It is not the home that I love.  It is not the home that I claim.

I want to talk about heartbeats. The kind your doctor monitors keeps your body alive. When all is as it should be, heartbeats are constant and they go forth without any conscious effort on your part to maintain its rhythm. It just beats. As long as you have breath, it beats. There is also a second kind of heartbeat, defined as "an animating or vital unifying force." That's what I think of when I think of this city. 

In the days, weeks and months after Pulse, Orlando came together as a community to raise money, donate blood, honor victims, provide financial assistance, open church doors, feed one another, hug one another and just live loved. And in the time since then, the sense of community here hasn't seemed to dull. Everywhere I go, people proudly don Orlando United shirts, pins and bracelets. There are decals in many local shop windows and neighborhoods filled with beautiful murals that both inspire and honor the memory of the 49 souls lost that day. The heartbeat of this city is its people. This ever beating rhythm carries the weight of our past with us as we walk forward with hope. In it, we are reminded who we are. Strong. Resilient. Diverse. United. A collective community of neighbors, friends and co-workers and families that refuse to forget what happened here, but also refuse to live in fear.

There are a myriad of events going on these next few weeks - too many to possibly attend them all, and too few to ever feel like it's enough. My work schedule won't allow me to participate in the majority of the tributes this week. However, I had the distinct opportunity to walk the 49 Portraits art gallery at Orlando City Hall on opening night. Out of respect for the artists and those whose portraits were displayed, I will not post any photos. However, I do highly recommend taking the time to walk through the gallery and really absorb it.  

I was particularly struck by a few things I saw.  One of the paintings was completed by the individual's brother. It gave me pause to consider what strength and courage a person must have to take on such a task that is both extremely heavy, and yet so incredibly delicate.  There was also a portrait of a mom and child that I spent some time at, and one whose eyes were painted in such vivid detail, I felt as though he could have spoken to me had I stood there long enough. I thought about all the first responders, law enforcement officers, dispatchers and firefighters that were forever changed that night. You see, I have the good fortune to be part of a law enforcement family and I'm well aware that my brother-in-law sees, hears and experiences things that we as civilians will never fully understand. Walking through that gallery was somber, but it also carries an elegance about it. A beauty that is forever immortalized by paint, canvas, lead, gold foil and the talent of some incredible artists. More information on the 49 Portraits can be found here: 49 Portraits.

As I prepare to travel overseas to the U.K. in the wake of Manchester and multiple attacks on the City of London, I am particularly moved.  These senseless acts of violence are becoming more and more frequent. There is a weariness with which I turn on the news, hoping not to hear of yet another instance of injustice in this city, this country or abroad.

I never want this sort of thing to feel normal, because it most certainly is not. The deliberate taking of human lives is not what God intended for this world and while we weep with those who weep and mourn with those who mourn, may we never forget to live our lives for those who no longer have that chance. I will use vigilance but, I will not live in fear - for both myself and those who cannot. There is good in this world to counteract the bad, you just have to believe in it, seek it out and most importantly, be the good you want to see in your family, community, country and world.  Michael Jackson said it best:

"...if you wanna make the world a better place, you gotta look at yourself and make the change."

I love my city. 
I am so proud to call Orlando home. 

May the heartbeat of Orlando continue to pulse for love as we live up to our moniker, The City Beautiful.  
Let hope rise.

"Love will always win." ❤