These are very intense times.

Without you and I sitting down at my (or your) dining room table, with eye contact, live conversation and some home-brewed tea, I’m not totally sure what to say right now. One sided conversation is a different thing altogether, isn’t it?

But saying nothing isn’t an option, I want you to know I’m here, and I want to be sure you explicitly know where I stand and what my values are, you can read about my values here (maybe circle back to this link after you read my letter).  

I also want to continue to offer you support through these seasons of chaos, struggle, possibility and future building.

So from my own place of learning, unlearning, and being with it all I’d like to offer you a small handful of thoughts intended to support your true healing, your self-care, your good and needed work, and your capacity to stay engaged and show up during this important time.

1. Remember you hold multitudes. Inside of the same day (week, month, year) you can hold-space, support, and be in service to another, while also needing to fall apart, and lean-in and on a trusted friend or caregiver.

Do not let unhelpful coping strategies convince you that it’s one or the other. You are made for this struggle.

2. Have 1, 2, or 3 people that you can completely unravel to or with. Even a text exchange where you unload your in the moment fears or upset can be just the thing your nervous system needs in order to regulate and come back to center.

3. Sprinkle (or douse) your days with pleasure. Make a pleasure list, put on a song you love and for the entire song free write things that bring you pleasure.

Be unapologetic and totally free. Keep this list close by, visit it often, follow it’s wisdom daily.

4. I believe strongly that other-care is self-care. Show up and serve. Not everyone is a protestor, not everyone can donate, not everyone is a writer, not everyone is an organizer. But ALL of us can do something. Find your something(s) and do what you can.

5. Rest. Take a few minutes to connect with your heart, place your hands on it and imagine the intelligence in your heart lighting up with each loving breath. Do this for even just a minute. Also, nap. In the grass or sand if you can.

6. Listen to the animal of your body. Move, shake, scream, punch, self-pleasure, have sex, dig in the dirt, rub good oils into your skin. Care for your body like it’s here to do something, like it’s one of your greatest tools and was designed for this life, for this transformational work. It was.

7. Work with your thoughts. I don’t mean in a “your thoughts create your reality” kind of way, which invites shame cycles and is problematic. I mean, become the observer of your thoughts, notice them, get curious about them, edit, and curate them so that they are in service to a greater (and your greater) good.

Call in more compassion, more grace, more integrity, more respect. This is big work, find a healthy, values aligned support source to help you with it.

8. Remember that your feelings are always real, valid, and worthy, but they are not always accurate. This is particularly true for those of us with trauma injuries, where our systems have been so well trained to sense danger that we will often pick up on something that is indeed happening but while it may feel like it’s a tsunami coming it may actually be a simple afternoon storm.

When your alarm signals are firing do what you can to settle your nervous system and slow things down. Very often just turning down the urgency can give us a more effective perspective on what’s going on.

9. Know this - love and light alone isn’t wholeness. In order to be whole we must integrate, claim, acknowledge, and recognize our shadow.

This is the work we are being called to do. This is how transformation can occur.

These are intense, important times we are living in. This is more than a hashtag, more than a month long study or acknowledgement.

We are participating in and witnessing a hard and messy labor, and in the same way I would support the  mama’s I've doula'd I will offer you this - there is a long road ahead, I promise you were made for this work, and every contraction, every breath, every ounce of sweat, blood, and tears, will be worth it.

You must fortify yourself, and remember as hard as laboring is, it is only the beginning. I am here with you and for you, learning, unlearning, grieving, and growing.