A Well of Capacity Comes from Community

Today I want to share as many hugs as possible and remember the well of capacity that comes from community. I feel such deep gratitude for people reaching out and connecting. I feel such deep longing to be in community ~ both locally (back in Asheville + Appalachia) and with beloved community (across space + time). I feel such deep grief over what seems to be the choice of an especially brutal route toward empire collapse.

In the midst of these many feelings, I am reminded of how deeply we need each other, how we are gifted with lessons in community care, and how we are called to feel (heart), un/learn (head), and act (hands) toward justice. What practices ground and guide us in this moment?

Many writers-scholars-educators-activists are offering powerful framing statements. I have been especially lifted by Alexis Pauline Gumbs’s “Audre Lorde, Fire, and Our First 100 Days,” by Jezz Chung’s “How to Alchemize Despair into Collective Action,” and by It’s Going Down’s “Don’t Doom Scroll, Organize,” among others. YK Hong’s anti-oppression liberatory strategy posts allow me to take a deep breath: be sure to check out the knot/braid posts for building locally (with more localities coming day after day).

A friend shared with me Zenju Earthlyn Manuel’s “To Have and to Hold Each Other,” and this piece especially has given me space to move through the day. Manuel challenges us into a “sacred campaign” of really empathizing, recognizing, and holding each other through shared suffering. Manuel speaks about fear: 

Our fear that things will get worse, tends to lead to things getting worse. When driven by fear we fall to those who prey on our terror, rage, pain, loneliness, and need for salvation. Our collective fear today is whether or not anyone can live as who they are in this country or in the world, despite being right, middle, or left on the political continuum or off the linear political path all together. Our fear is whether or not our own strategy will eventually work even though it has failed many times.

This reflection reminds me of a candle (from Charis Books, the feminist bookstore I’ve grown up with) that I’ve been lighting while displaced since Helene. The candle offers the prayer, the wish, the spell: “May your choices reflect your hopes and not your fears.”

I am lighting this candle for us today and repeating often: “May your choices reflect your hopes and not your fears.”

As you may know, I started blogging in 2016, after Trump’s election and after years of being discouraged from public writing from colleagues who feared for me. I’ve been thinking a lot about the first two blog posts, “The Call to Write” and “Heart, Head, Hands: Explaining the Blog’s Name.” Despite life being different in that moment, both posts echo callings I feel now — to write and to process. I find myself sitting with the same three questions: 

• Heart: What am I feeling? What does my heart need now? Where am I tender? What care does my grief need? My anger need? My fear need? Where can I reach into courage and “do it scared”?
  
• Head: What am I thinking? What am I learning and unlearning? What is coming into clarity? What do I know now that I didn’t know before? What more do I want/need to know?
  
• Hands: What am I doing? Called to do? Ready to do? Longing to do? Who is organizing and suggesting collective action? Who will I act with? What actions are possible now? 

There is so much I can’t do today, but I can recommit to striving toward justice, striving toward liberation. I can anchor in my daily practice of asking for Divine protection, nurturance, and guidance. I can remember the teachings of recent years, especially recent weeks since Helene. I can belt out “Woke Up This Morning with My Mind Stayed on Freedom.” And, hopefully, I can rest tonight, because, as I’m learning in mid-life, everything seems possible after a good night’s sleep, while nothing can happen when I’m tired and grumpy. 🙂

Again, so much gratitude for everyone reaching out, and please keep connecting with friends and community, wherever and however possible. If you’d like to connect real-time, I will be holding space through Saturday’s writing retreat. This can be a space to journal, to grieve, to rage, to plan, to read, to create, to connect with others … Click here to sign up, or reach out with any questions.

I share so much love, remembering again that a well of capacity comes from community. <3
Beth