Beloved friends,
I've been thinking a lot about how we're doing, collectively, in this moment; this is a necessary thing for me to be of good service to the world. The first presidency by this man and the early pandemic were so different; it felt like pain and grief were shared and named and drawing us all closer. Remember during that first 14 day lockdown, being on the phone/Zoom/text with people you hadn't spoken to in years? All of us reaching out to connect, to say that we cared? Now is so different. It feels like folks who share values with me are working so hard to cope that it's hard to even name that this is a difficult time, much less a historically tragic one.
We're all working so hard to be okay.
The other day a friend sent me a reel by Kat Hurley. One part of it stuck with me: she named "I'm fine" as a trauma response. We used to call sympathetic nervous system engagement, the body's emergency response state, the fight or flight response. Then folks starting seeing and naming more: we also freeze, like a deer, in crisis. There's fawn, which tries to ensure safety by acting in ways that lead others, particularly those who seem to have power, to feel positively toward you. There's flop or faint, which both refer to basically keeling over. Flock is the urge to gather together, oh, like those pandemic reachouts I mentioned just now; seeking comfort and safety in a group. Kat listed a bunch of those trauma responses and then added, "I'm fine." Ohhhhhh, yes!
The coping kind of fine has its own nuances, doesn't it? So many flavors. There's the white-knuckling, gritted teeth kind of fine. There is the insistent fine of denial, of forced certainty: I WILL MAKE IT FINE WITH THE FORCE OF MY WILL. There is the flat, listless fine of disconnection, depression, or overwhelm, when you're beyond much feeling.
Near the end of my/our spring Workshop for Living, someone shared that they were dealing with a weird thing: their nervous system seemed to be stuck in emergency mode. There were lots of hard things afoot in their life, but none if it was an immediate threat, and their body was responding as if there was an alligator in the room. Every day, for weeks, their voice sounded almost like they'd been running; they were having a hard time catching a breath. They talked to their doctors and their therapist and tried all sorts of things, but it kept being this way.
One day I took a little leap and asked if perhaps it might be possible that they really needed to feel some grief? They were working with diligence to be okay – I mean, of course, right?! But what if, I wondered, the underlying need was just to let it not be okay for a minute. All I did was ask a question: could it be that it might help to let it be okay that you aren't okay? Could it be that you need to grieve these hard things?
I'd shared this in writing. A couple days later I spoke to this beloved one online and her voice sounded quite normal again. She said that just having it named that she was grieving, that things were not okay, had sort of burst the bubble of emergency. It blew my mind, the power of that!
I spoke to another person this week, someone in a season of struggle in a long term relationship. They, too, were feeling caught in a cycle of distress; things kept feeling hard, change didn't seem to come despite all sorts of well-intentioned efforts. We spoke and, again, simply named some things that were happening. Afterward everything seemed to shift very rapidly inside of them. A couple days later they are feeling clear of heart about their intentions toward their partner. The interpersonal situation is still complex, but they in their heart are feeling solid.
I've been musing on this. There is so much for me to learn about how to support people right now! There is no clear precedent in my lived experience for this moment. How can I best support people in this new environment? How do we cope when it's not a sprint, but a marathon, and when we're all having to run it at the same time? Who passes out the Gatorade when we're all running the race?
I bet you've heard of the Ring Theory of support. It's often summarized as "support in, dump out." When my stepdad died a few years ago, I could turn to my husband for support in my grief, but it wouldn't be okay to turn to my mom for support, because her loss was deeper than mine. In this moment, where we are all enduring the same very hard things, where do you go to dump out?! Nobody is out! We're all so careful about naming the pain because it might be really distressing for everyone else when we're all facing so many of the same pains.
Right now I'm seeing these powerful glimpses of how useful it can be to simply say some words can be: "This is terrible. I'm coping; I am fine. Also, at the same time: this is terrible." It doesn't make everything okay, the naming, but it lets some of the steam out, some of the pain out, a bit of light in. I've been surprised to see how useful it can be to just name the feelings and events afoot.
When we are working very hard to be Fine, it can feel dangerous to unpack our feelings. I find it encouraging that just naming them can be so useful. Sometimes we dump the whole box of sad feels onto the floor and sort it out, but it can be surprisingly effective, too, to say, "I am carrying a box of sad feels and DANG it is a heavy box."
In this moment where it can feel scary to open the box, I hope that the idea of naming the box can be useful to you as a different, related, tool. If you want to open the box with someone, I'm here for that; I'll hold your hand while you open the box if you wish. Or connect with you to name the box. Or maybe just reading this will help you explore this in your own way. If so, write and tell me? It's so useful to hear when my words land with you, to hear yours in return.
Great love,
Dahlia
PS. Deep thanks to the folks who let me share their stories. Even anonymously, I check, so what you read is always something someone has consented to have lifted up to share and grow with. This generosity is such a gift. Thank you.
A Little Summer Break
Tomorrow I have a whole lot of family arriving for a long visit, then James and I will head to our annual summer campout. Rather than pressing myself to write in the space between, I am going to curl my petals inward for a moment. I'll write to you next the first week of August.
If my words here resonated and you want to connect, I have a few days available for bookings in July. If you want to talk, to sit together and name what is afoot in your life or in the world, I'll be glad to share that with you, online or in person. Counsel and coaching is among my most treasured aspects of my work. Feel welcome to book some time, or drop me an email to talk about what that might look like.
Resources
Literal Nourishment
My CSA box has had Harukei Turnips in it for the last few weeks. Roasting them was absolutely exquisite! This recipe suggests mixing them with radishes, which I didn't have, and simply roasting the turnips themselves and tossing in the greens for the last few minutes was so tasty that I am drooling just remembering it.
We Have Always Loved the Sky
When I read that we've found an even older version of Stonehenge nearby, my whole body ran with shivers. Five thousand years ago people knew where the sun would rise on the Winter Solstice, and valued this enough to mark it in their community. Goodness.
Alison Francis
Reverse Aging
No, it's not LED lights or the Vampire Facial (microneedling with plasma) or any kind of pill or potion: turns out that brisk walking in your 40s will reverse the apparent age of your brain, even if you've never exercised before. Original study, or reporting on the study, depending on how you like to read. I love this kind of simple, affirmative science: Go take a sweaty little walk; it's good for you!
The Beauty of the Mundane
Five Radio Stations is a "radio station by Daniel John Jones and Seb Emina delivering reliable, real-time information about commonplace and quotidian happenings around the world. Tides, aircraft movements, pinball scores, weather conditions, lost and found items, bird sightings and other ordinary events are gathered from over 150 countries and reported live in the form of spoken bulletins." Unfortunately the AI platform whose sponsorship made this a live, current experience ended in 2024, but listening to the stream of commonplace events is still a tender thing. It is so precious to be alive. Thanks to James
Resistance
Enterprise Drop Ice is a campaign by 18MR, 18 Million Rising, who seek to organize Asian Americans. Anyone can participate in Enterprise Drop Ice, which does what it says on the tin; that link has a letter you can personalize to let Enterprise CEO Chrissy Taylor know that the world is watching. They've also got instructions for resistance by gumming up the works with actions like making reservations and cancelling them in the allowable window.
De-Ice Citizens Bank aims to stop profit-making from ICE. As with Enterprise, lots of ways to participate, including a letter you can personalize.
Here's my doc with allll kinds of ways you can step up to resist! I've taken action on weekdays since last September and oh does it make a difference. It eases the moral injury of being alive right now to keep saying, every day: NO. NO. NO.
Supporting me in supporting you
This is entirely human work – my work, done by hand, with my own mind and heart. I do not use AI in the creation of what I offer you. I don't have one. The half day I devote to creating this each week is a labor of love for which I earn about $15/hr. You can chip in on giving me a raise! You could make a one-time donation of any size, or upgrade to a paid subscription for as little as $5/month.
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