2024 election – The Light Behind the Story

Try these sounds to work through heavy emotions. Start with fear, move through anger, then anxiety and grief. End with a self hug.

I created the above image this morning, and posted it on my social media. Currently it has 15K views on TikTok. I’m surprised, but I’m not. This week, many of our deepest emotions have risen to the surface in the aftermath of the 2024 US election. Half the country is celebrating in bold, proud displays of MAGA pride, the other half is experiencing the trauma of shock, and an ungrounding mixture of fear, anger, anxiety and grief. We are in a stating of mourning and uncertainty. We are broken, but still whole.

For many, the everyday routine has become something that feels tenuous and fragile. The constant pounding of hatred has broken the hope that threaded the fabric of our collective humanity. We are broken, but still whole.

We need to find the frayed pieces. We need to find a way to sew the seams back together to find a feeling of unity. We need to find the goodness of common ground.

“Hello darkness my old friend. I’ve come to talk to you again,” this song of silence has words. We know it well. We have been here before. So many times we have cycled into our darkness, and once again, we are being asked to thread the light back into our collective story.

“We can do hard things,” because we’ve done them before. We can find “Goodness in common ground.” We can find “the light behind the story.” We have to, because we must.

It is a time of mourning and processing. It is a time of self-care and caring for others. Check on yourself, your friends, your family, your neighbors and your peers. If you are struggling, please ask for help. There are so many doors opened in kindness. Seek them out. There are more than ever. Be one of them.

If you don’t know what that door looks like right now, trust that its definition will form. I am relying on trust and faith. Navigating uncharted waters requires us to find the strength within, and the knowing that the way will find us.

I am also offering a free Zoom this evening, at 7pm EST. All are welcome. It’s spur of the moment, but that’s the nature of these uncharted waters. If you or anyone you know is struggling right now, please know this door is open to you. We will be working with the yoga and sound to process our emotions and find a greater sense of peace in these uncertain times.

Together we can find our way. One breath. One day at a time.

Sometimes we need to stop and assess. To pause and figure out where we are in relation to the past, the present, and the future so that we can progress.

Here we are now, metaphorically paralyzed, in a tangle of time. Threaded with anxiety about the future, we attempt to unravel our humanity weighted by the mistakes of our past.

Again.

The other day, I found myself returning to the origins of my blog, and why I renamed it, years ago, to “The Light Behind the Story.” I thought about where I existed in this folded continuum of time and where I exist in the bigger “we” of human existence as I watch our collective history repeat itself.

And, I thought about why we seem to cycle, over and over again, back to the hold. Holding tight to our darkness as we snuff out our light.

Why do we choose hate over love?

Why do we choose to believe lies over truth?

Why do we follow, with blind faith, the immoral would-be leader?

I need to search my own story alongside our collective stories for answers. Nothing is revelatory, yet there is a persistent nagging of what cannot be overlooked.

A need for inclusion.

A need for acceptance.

A need to be a part of a collective for fear of being rejected as the “other.”

When I follow the threads backwards, I see myself as the other, and as the collective. I see myself as the blind follower, and the outcast. I see myself searching, over and over again, for definition, for unity, for wholeness. And it is through these points of struggle to define myself that I can achieve a greater sense of the struggle that permeates our collective “we,” even if I cannot understand the specificities of why.

Why the choice to hold on stubbornly to immortality.

Why the persistence of virulent amnesia and denial?

Why is there a pervasive refusal to remember the hard lessons of the past in order to not repeat them?

Here, I find only the false backbones of pride and hate, and they both trouble me. From this precarious structure, I need to widen my gaze to the horizon to see the light beyond the shadows. I need to gaze into the vast expanse of blue and believe in the power of truth.