They say breathe…

But perhaps in times like this
all you can do is pant or wheeze or gasp—
...What if you close your eyes.  

Put your right hand on your heart,  your left hand on your stomach 
...Your life is even deeper than your breath.
Think what makes your heart smile.

We are in a time of great turbulence. There is a trance of darkness and confusion that can rob goodness from the soul.

Inside however, the body tells the real story.

We may contract or sleep ourselves into numbness. However, it is only an illusion of safety.

But listen.

On Solstice, in my neighborhood, I participate in a Guatemalan ritual called Quemar el Diablo. In the silence of the darkness, I light a fire outside and write on little papers all I wish to give to the fire: resentments, grievances, the longing for justice, grief and sorrow, the unfinished business of a life. I hold this small and fevered planet, with all its chaos and all its beauty. I try to reckon with what I cannot fix. I light the fire to try to put some intention into the flame: more empathy, more generosity, more courage to be in truth, speak more truth, more coming to terms without capitulation and despair, to find joy, not just distraction, to laugh despite the evidence otherwise in the chaos of politics, to embrace not knowing in whatever form it takes.

Sexual trauma is a profound betrayal. It shakes the brain like a snow globe. What you have known for certain is suddenly stripped away, creating chaos, grief—and overwhelming confusion. Confusion is the brain trying to make sense of such cognitive dissonance. 

Your mind may be noisy and crowded and empty. You don't quite know how to explain what you know or feel anymore. You stand blind in the sandstorm of confusion as lingering tapes of the past fight with growth. You grapple with the updated map of your interior terrain, and the loneliness that first comes with new alignments.