Surviving These Disturbed and Disturbing Times

Ever feel a need to write, to express yourself but lack the clarity of direction or vision, content or context? That's me right now. We'll see where this goes...

It's as if there is so very much to say these days that I can't seem to say anything. But it's in here, brewing, nudging me from the inside and wanting out.

Pause. This is what occurs to me most immediately as I sit here, fingertips resting on the keys. Just pause. Join me, won't you? Stop reading and sit here with soft attention to your breathing rhythm and maybe listen more acutely to what you hear around you and within you. Let's close our eyes for a cycle of several breaths. I'll be back.

I believe my heart is broken. I'm familiar with this. Loss of collective humanity has that effect on me. My spirit is weary. My disappointment, devastating. My longing, calling from deep in my gut and my heart. My not-yet-released tears creating gentle pressure in my face as my mind seems to search for one of many firing thoughts to grab onto so I can form a sentence, a paragraph, some kind of content here. Oh, right, that's my cue to pause again and close my eyes. You too, if you'd like. Just a conscious breath or two, or five or ten.

Those exhales had sound and that sound led to the experience of my chest as the cavity that it is as it offers much needed spaciousness. Let that inhale open a doorway into the literal and metaphoric space.

And now, I am grateful. Grateful for the tools of gentle attention. Grateful for the ability to release with sound. Grateful for the stillness that arises when I use my attention to connect with my moments. Grateful for all of the teachers who have come before me and have been part of this learning for me.

The truth is, I am grieving the loss of our collective humanity. I look at our country and see the state of degradation and decay that it's in. That's where I'll begin. And I'll remind us to integrate the pausing practice we just did any time we feel stirred, triggered, disturbed to the extent that our thinking might become cloudy and we struggle to organize ourselves toward action. There is so very much to be troubled by, outraged by, that can cause us a great deal of duress that we must know how to respond to help ourselves settle again. How does that sound?

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So I'm grieving the loss of our collective humanity. I don't recognize people. I mean, it's not a new experience for me to feel like I don't quite fit in somehow but this is different. I don't recognize some people I know...people in my family as well as in our nation and everywhere in between. Just how far down is our collective bottom for god's sake? How bad does it all have to get before we shift out of this trajectory? Did the people once in my inner circle change? Or did MAGA just give them a platform for the bigotry I didn't know was within them? It's difficult enough to see all who have crawled out from under their rocks or the basements of their parent's homes where they kept their sickness to themselves out of recognition of the cultural agreement that we act with some decorum and basic respect for all of us to coexist. But to see support for what is going down right now in the members of my family or closer community? This is hard to accept. But there it is.

It appears we're going to have to crash and burn before there is the kind of awareness that breeds mutuality, reciprocity and collective empathy. It breaks me that it isn't empathy and protection of the rights of others that is beginning to shift people away from the conservative (MAGA) viewpoint these days. It's how gas prices are impacting them personally. This is what it took. "How is it impacting me? Oh, not at all? Then carry on." That seems to be a basic tenet of those supporting the actions of this regime. Now that it's costing them money and creating stress for them, they're taking a harder look. This self-centered point of reference is what is causing some MAGA supporters to ask questions now. Oh well, better late than never, I guess. But wow...that's a low bar and it does point to an ethical desert in the hearts of way too many of us. Again, I don't recognize people.

I have been clicking away at these keys and deleting. Clicking. Deleting. Hmmm. Breath break again. Soft awareness and attuned attention. Here we go...Pause if you'd like.

It's racism. The adherence to racism that seems to, in large part, be at the heart of the Republican party. The gerrymandering. The gutting of The Voting Rights Act. The shameless and overt commitment to their hatred. That is what is evident to me right now...the bold and bombastic, celebrated racism; out and proud to be white supremacists and cheaters with regard to something so fundamental to this country as the right to a free and fair election process.

It is the unquenchable thirst for domination that sickens me. The ongoing, non-consensual violation of the body politic, with no escape or ability to look away because evidence of it is everywhere now. We are being force-fed a daily dose of their pathology, an ongoing psychological assault where our boundaries, our humanity, our basic needs mean nothing, and our consent is never asked. It feels like being locked in a room with a sociopathic abuser-subjected day after day to their delusions, their shameless cruelty, and their complete lack of conscience; while the people around them and citizens of our country look on in deference. They are reconstituting the very air we breathe into something toxic, forcing us to inhale their depravity while we do our best to dodge their unsolicited, suffocating aims toward our collective demise. It is a systematic violation of our minds and our safety, and it's exhausting.

We are subject to the delusions of mad men (of which racism is one example) salivating for anything that hints of more money, white male advancement, continued silencing of voices they don't want to hear, more twisting of systems to benefit only themselves and those in whose pockets they live. I am aghast, crushed, as are many of us, watching the quick and severe decline of our country back to the sickness of our origins. We're historically (and apparently currently) colonizers, remember? We deceived and violated other humans (non-white ones, that is) to advance and get what we wanted for our, then, new country. Sound familiar 2026? The hatred and oppression of women and children and people of color is alive and well and the delusions of grandeur and superiority are now foundational to US policy and to the criminalization of our justice system and branches of government. Checks and balances are a thing of the past. And our family members and community members support it. THIS is most overwhelming and defeating for me; that there is support for this illness in the very hearts of people we love and in our fellow citizens.

And yet...

Hang on. Time for a pause? I'd say yes. I'd like to sit here and feel and reflect and listen to what is present. Regulate. Settle. You?

And yet...

Out my window right now is the sound and evidence of coastal wind blowing through. Chimes are ringing. Frogs are croaking. Birds expressing themselves. The sun shines. The ocean moves. The trees sway. People create art, music, poetry, essays, delicious food. The animating principle (to use a term borrowed from Aristotle and developed further in distinct ways by English author and researcher, Rupert Sheldrake) remains. This is our refuge, our solace. We are never without that which animates. This force, that keeps the earth revolving and is exchanged when we embrace someone we love, that pushes the seed up and out of it's seed coat to become a flower or an oak tree or food that sustains us, this force keeps us moving and growing and in touch with life. The force that keeps the ocean moving and our breath flowing in and out of our bodies is our link. We are always in the presence of and engagement with this animating principle through the elemental life around and within us. Earth. Water. Fire. Air. And for that, I am on-my-knees grateful.

I wonder sometimes where or who I would be if I had no relationship to this force. It has saved me countless times when I have turned to it in its myriad forms to ease my aching heart. I pick up my guitar and sing. I head outside and lie in the grass and feel, look around, close my eyes and notice. I write a piece of literary activism like this one. I walk along the headlands here in northern CA and well, it really can't be missed out there. It's in the air, the waves, the appreciative people, the sea birds and creatures, the sun in my eyes and on my face, the waving of the light and fairy-like radish fields as they sway in the breeze. Life!

This is how we survive. We continue to feel and witness the sickness, yes. And we do whatever it is that helps us feel we're contributing to amplifying a counterpoint to the depravity and hatred. Simultaneously, we fill up our own cups repeatedly and regularly and without fail. This is not what we put on the back burner, no. We commit to doing all that feeds us, nurtures the life force within us, makes a home for our creativity and love, contributes to our humanity. If we don't fill up our well consistently, we deplete ourselves. That's just the way it is. No well can be drawn from over and over again without replenishment and still remain effective.

What is it for you? What are the things, the actions out of which you deeply connect with yourself; with this animating force around and within us? Time with your kids? Time alone? Movement? Art? Prayer? Cooking? Time with a pet? Rich conversation with a dear friend? Building something with your hands? Growing a garden? Listening to music? Creating music? Taking photographs? Being quiet and still?

I'd imagine there is a combination of things. It's good to have multiple ways that you settle and feel more deeply connected; that you fill up your well. Do these things as a loving gesture to yourself and to life. Weave them in and out of your grassroots and other political actions that help advance the cause of empathy, mutual respect and support for human rights. With all of us weaving in this particular way, I feel hopeful that we'll create a beautifully woven tapestry celebrating life. Maybe not right away because we are deeply, deeply fractured and lost as a nation. But it is a good and strong path, don't you think? Care for self and breathing life into anything that honors our shared humanity is an effort worth making, for now and for future generations and for this beautiful and life-giving planet.