Writing with Juliet Iwelunmor

Today, my team and I submitted three grants. This isn’t a praise post, but more so to encourage myself to keep rising to the things we love. Two of the three grants pushed me over the edge. One in particular, had me so down by the juggler that I would prefer simply to remain down. Everything that is like a dream, whether they make sense or not, will force you to kiss the ground, force you to question whether any of this is even worth it. This week, I didn’t sleep well, I barely ate, I tried to work out, but I allowed myself to stay down for too long that I concluded none of this is worth it. Nothing is ever worth the pain of being over the edge and grants would open its fists wide to welcome you deep within its dark core.

Then why, why do you do it. Put yourself through this trial that tips you over till you are down and out. I have been so dilligent with writing. So determined to keep something about a day that every single time I wrote, whether a sentence or a story, every time I put words down here, helped me to rise and dream again. It’s hard to explain, but writing as I do here every day saved me and continues to save me.

Today is the 99th day of writing something about my day and life. For the past 99 days, between 4 tornadoes and the possibilities of foreign grants ending, my people and I dug deeper into what makes us bright like light. Just as well as that light was birthed from a very dark place and dark times. The idea of losing grants in the middle of policies and politics of which are out of our control will make you wish you could hide under a cave and remain there. So we did. At times, the dark was heavy and my mood was uneasy and I may have lost my temper for one reason or another but my people stood and understood and helped even as the dark got darker.

Still I’m not writing in praise of these grants. Far from it. I would rather tell you of how this day, this same day that the dark seemed so dark (the grants were due today), my last boy kissed my nose, just this morning because he felt he wanted to remind me that I was loved. He had just taken his bath and I was putting his clothes on so my face was so close to his that he decided to kiss my nose and my cheeks and my eyelids and my arms that I then proceeded to cry. He of course didn’t know why and how do you tell a four year old thank you for seeing me even at my worse. And so I am keeping this here because a 4 year old reminded me why all this matters. Love.

We sacrifice our days and our time, our nights and our rest, all because we love our people so much and if there are funds to help our people live out their fullest potential with their health, we will be there writing it from deep within any edge. This, this is why we are grant writers. Keep this.