Maybe hope is not the right word…

Right now, when so much is being ripped apart for so many, we may believe that the situations we face and the darkness we encounter or embody are permanent, even hopeless. It may be easier now for us to just curl up into a ball and shut down. But nothing is permanent. Not pain, not joy, not confusion, not conviction, not certainty—not hope. 

Maybe hope is not the right word to use for these times. But no matter the word, notice how life clings stubbornly to that thin line of light between the thunder clouds. In that worthy struggle, the relentless, grappling, noisy, silent longing for peace, the fact is: here we are.

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The Courage in Fear

Right now, the country is quaking, hungry, often violent, overcome with threats. Politics, systems, and rules have suddenly changed lives and livelihoods. In the world we inhabit, there is a raw wind that can blow inside your chest as blood runs hot, hyper-vigilant, flooded. 

This glowering presence, like a poison, can sweep through your body with its undeniable contraction. Fear is a mind killer, spreading through the veins and the bones, reminding us of all that has betrayed us. It can manifest as anger and vitriol, or as a deadening cloud on the soul. You—generous or kind, or terrified, most need one another and the best from yourselves.

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The Irony of Shame

Toxic shame: the trademark debris from a survivor's sense of self after abuse... It spreads like a rash, turns to puss, and seeps through the soul. You feel it in the pit of your stomach, the tension in your shoulders, on your skin, in your heart... your heart.  

Toxic shame is often unnamed, and ironically, unfelt.  

Plenty has already been said about the issue of healthy shame. You recognize healthy shame when you have hurt someone or something. You confront your values, integrity or conduct. You take responsibility and make amends with regret, grief, remorseand truth.

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