View this post on Instagram

 

America feels unrecognizable to me right now.

The chaos and actions of unspeakable cruelty have become unsettling to my nervous system. Even positive affirmations, that once succeeded in grounding me, now leave me confused and empty.

“Everything will be okay.” (Will it?)
“Trust the process.” (What process?)
“Love always wins.” (I hope that’s still true.)

The other night, I asked my inner guru:

Can you help me, please? I used to be full of optimism, light, and joy. I’m not feeling it anymore. Only shock. Confusion. Tears. Screams. Sadness. Overwhelm. Anger. Exhaustion.

Where is the vibration of joy I once felt so often in my life? What happened to it? What does it feel like? I can’t even remember.

How do I embody its vibration amid this collective assault on the people of our nation and in the world? Is it even possible to feel scared and still find moments of joy?

I waited quietly to listen for the answers from the highest part of myself, and eventually, my inner guru showed up for me:

“Yes. It is possible to feel joy even when you are feeling scared, grieving, confused, and angry. Find a way to revisit moments from your past when joy lived easily in your body, mind, and spirit.

Revive its vibrations. Recall the lived scenes. Invite its healing energy back into every cell of your body. No matter how many forces are thriving on fear and intimidation, and are trying to steal your light, no one can take away your precious memories.”

I knew what I needed to do. The first step? My iPhone.

For five nights in a row, I followed my inner guidance by scrolling through 11 years of photos and videos. It was healing, medicinal, and uplifting. It helped me remember the essence of joy and gently place it back into my being.

As I moved from image to image, the vibration of light-filled moments began to soften my broken heart. There they were. Scenes of pure delight:

My husband and I happily celebrating each love-filled anniversary.
That magnetic pull I felt from the healing red rocks in Sedona.
Those magnificent sunsets and their stunning afterglow in Siesta Key.
All those abundant, endless double rainbows in Maui.
Joy-filled birthday parties and ballet recitals with my two adorable grandchildren.
My feelings of delight every time I performed joyful music for audiences.
All those fun, risky, thrilling helicopter rides into canyons and deep valleys.

As I reached the end of those memories, I suddenly realized that I have the agency to place joy in a sacred compartment and call it back anytime—even during these shadow parts of life.

I believe what I’ve long coached others to know: we can handle both the shadow and the light, and right now, I’m consciously calling in more light, joy, love, tenderness, grace, gratitude, laughter, prayer, dance, and song.

We cannot allow ourselves to become destroyed. If we do, what good will we be to anyone?

We can care for those in trouble, blow warning whistles, join peaceful protests, feel scared, angry, overwhelmed, and exhausted— and we can still create sacred moments that feed our spirit and allow joy, faith, and love to become our life force.

In times like these, we take turns holding the light. When one of us feels weak, another person rises. When that person grows weary, someone else steps in.

Healers need healing, too. And we are all collective healers now.

Few people can stay upbeat and resilient in times like these. As Ram Dass said, “We’re all just walking each other home.”

The old saying, “put your oxygen mask on first,” applies to all of us at different moments throughout the day. Only you will know when it’s your time to take a pause.

For new air, new energy (Chi), new life:

Breathe deep from your belly.

Return to your breath.
Inhale through your nose for a count of four.
Exhale through your mouth for a count of eight.
Repeat.

Meditate. Pray.

Take a restorative nap.

Escape by creating a little something: doodle, sew, sing, dance, build, dream.

Hum. Humming calms the nervous system. Hum “Hush Little Baby” or “This Little Light of Mine.” Make up your own tune. As Christopher Robin once said to Winnie the Pooh, “Hum a little hum.”

Carve out time for complete quiet.

Let nature heal you.

Journal write.

Regroup. Re-calibrate. And then rise again in your own way.

And above all, be available to truly listen to one another.

If someone trusts you enough to share their weariness or fear, listen without judgment. Even if their feelings make you uncomfortable, resist the urge to dismiss them, distract them, or fix them with quick solutions.

None of these responses help:

Don’t feel that way.
Try to think positive.
Have a drink.
Take something.
Snap out of it.
Look on the bright side.
You’re too sensitive.
Don’t take it so seriously.

Whether someone is facing serious illness or dealing with deep distress within their soul, ignoring or minimizing their feelings doesn’t help. What does?

Deep listening. Listen to each other’s feelings without trying to change them.

Full presence. When someone is distressed and you hear it in their words and tone, put your cell phone away, give them eye contact, and open your heart to them. They have the courage to open up and be vulnerable with you, and they are also trusting that you are safe enough to be there for them. Do your best.

Invite empathy and compassion to the table. Call upon these winning ingredients. They can lead to common ground, understanding, connection, and feeling heard.

Love. Offer them your unconditional love without making any inner judgments: “They should/shouldn’t feel this way.” They do feel that way. Be there. Fully present. This is the greatest gift you can give them now.

Acceptance. Accept each other’s moods and feelings. These are not usual times.

Honor yourself. When someone shares their feelings with you, keep breathing your breath. Not theirs. Don’t lose yourself. Stay grounded in your core, feel the roots of the earth entering your feet and flowing up to the crown of your head and back down again.

Focus on empathy and self-love. No matter how empathic you are, practice listening to someone’s feelings without allowing it to destroy you, too.

We are all helping each other through this mess. Allow time and space for honest sharing and give yourself permission to acknowledge what feelings are stirring within you, too.

It is okay to admit you’re scared.
It is okay to admit you’re exhausted.
It is okay to admit you’re angry, confused, or numb.

Feelings move. They shift. Yesterday, I felt numb, depressed, and hopeless. Today, I feel better. Nothing outside of me changed. If anything, the energy for cruelty is louder than ever.

Despite that, something inside me shifted for the better, and that matters deeply.

Peace begins with me. That’s where peace lives. Inside us first, last, and in-between.

Joy begins with me, too.

So, dear friends, as we move forward with new unknowns coupled with moments of love and kindness, remember this call to action, too:

Before eating, pause for a moment of silence and send light, love, and healing to those in harm’s way, and then recite the Metta Prayer of Loving Kindness three times.

May I/you/we be happy.
May I/you/we be well.
May I/you/we be safe.
May I/you/we be peaceful and at ease.

Hope doesn’t mean believing everything will turn out fine. Hope is the quiet choice to keep living with gratitude, light, love, and joy, and gently calling them back when fear tries to take over.

As Václav Havel wrote: “Hope is not a feeling of certainty that everything ends well. Hope is just a feeling that life and work have a meaning.”

And today, that feels like enough.

~