What to Do When it Feels Hard

I’m not always sure what to do with the sad + scary stuff happening in the world.

I got sucked into a vortex of bad news last night + woke up this morning with the energy of my nightmares still sparking in my nervous system.

The only thing I know to do in moments like these is try to come back + come down -- to the ground, to my body, to an immediate experience + direct encounter with life + self + truth.

So I climbed the stairs to my attic (when I would have preferred to stay in bed + scroll through my phone + generally numb out) to hang out with the ancestors, sit with my feelings, light some candles, and feel my body breathing.

Later, I sat in silence with a human I trust + remembered what it feels like to not be alone -- to be present + connected + in it with another person, just sharing space on the planet together.

There have been a lot of what-the-fuck-is-happening moments in recent history. Lots of moments when I felt devastated + terrified + lost. Lots of moments when I saw depths of rage + hatred inside me I didn’t know I was capable of.

And in those moments, I try to turn to the stuff that reminds me who I am, why I’m here, and what life is for.

I move my body + remember what aliveness feels like.

I blast good music + feel it pull me somewhere good.

I look at art + remember that humans are capable of beauty + creativity + weirdness that can take your breath away.

I take extra care to look people in the eye + smile, let cars into traffic, and generally bring whatever measure of goodness + grace + kindness I can muster that day.

I reach for magic + mystery.

I treasure awe + remember that it’s my spiritual oxygen.

I learn something new (because as long as I’m alive on this planet, it’s my job to keep exploring + growing + discovering).

I cry + laugh + dance.

I remember that it’s normal + okay to have hard days. I remember that grief + rage are necessary. I remember that I’m not alone. I remember that what I do matters.

I remember that I’m still here, we’re still here, and that’s a wonderful thing.