Hello dear one,

A few nights ago I had a dream that was so symbolic you’re going to think I made it up. I didn’t, tho.

In it, I — together with a few other people — were trapped in a huge impenetrable building that was as wide as a world. All exits were blocked by inhumanly strong, monstrous guards. We were to run an obstacle course — up and down mountains, through swamps — and do it before the time ran out. We knew there was no escape but through.

So we ran and climbed and slogged. But our time ran out. All the lights went out and it was completely dark, the kind of dark where you can’t see your fingers in front of your face. 

That was it. We lost. We were doomed. Going to die some unspeakably nasty way. Despair landed on us like an anvil.

And then I heard the faintest of sounds which I could make out as music.

I inched forward a bit, feeling my way, stumbling, but moving toward the music. It got louder and clearer and then I could tell it was “Beautiful Day” by U2. My next push on something steely and solid, incredibly, gave way.

A huge heavy door opened and we were out, we were free.

Friend, things are a whole lot awfuller than they were even a week ago, especially so for those of us in the US.

So what do we do now, trapped in this huge impenetrable time in history, exits blocked by inhumanly strong, monstrous guards?

I’m pretty numb and shocked, to be honest. But based on my beautiful dream, and in no particular order, here are some of my thoughts:

We admit that it’s bad when it’s bad.

My friends, this is bad.

There is a burst of relief that comes with telling the truth that a terrible situation is, in fact, terrible. We don’t pretty it up right away, we don’t sugar it with platitudes, we don’t pretend something is a force of light, we just can’t see it yet, when it’s not.

We see things as they are. We don’t bypass. We grieve, we cry, we rage because all of it is a valid response to things being phenomenally shitty.

We move toward beauty.

We create it, cultivate it, insist on it, be fed by it.

I don’t think beauty alone will do the trick, let us exit the awful mess completely, as I did in my dream. But pushing and moving toward what is meaningful and beautiful will keep us from getting trapped by despair. 

We reconnect with what we stand for.

Even when we are in a minority. Even when the systems around us are tightening around our necks. 

We do what is ours to do. When everyone everywhere needs our help, we can get swept up thinking we must help everywhere, everyone. But there are the things that are yours to do because they are your gifts to give and there are things that are someone else’s to do because those are their gifts to give.

We get ultra local.

Things happening on a national and global level are real and scary AF. They do and will continue to affect our daily, personal lives. I don’t pretend otherwise.

But there’s still the friend, the neighbor, the community, the bookstore, the city, right here, right up close, within arm’s reach. There are people and groups and lives you can touch and help and contribute to, tomorrow or soon, wherever your locale.

We again look up, recalibrate our personal trajectories by the north star of beauty.

Beauty tells us to pay attention to the smallest things. To rest. Regroup. Connect. Self-regulate. A lot. Again. And again.

Beauty gives us the audacity to push on something steely and solid, to make a way from no way. Again. And again.

We listen.

Give a listen to “Beautiful Day” by U2.

And give a listen to this powerful, right-on-time, post-US-election podcast episode, “We Can Do Hard Things.” 

That’s all my heart can hold today, dear one.

Dreaming, raging, grieving,