Finding Your Fire in the Darkness

While this is not a political publication, its content centers around the healing journey. Right now, half of our sisters in this country (and even more across the world) are hurting, scared, and feeling a sense of dread in the weight of their bones. 

I usually keep my politics out of the healing conversation. Still, it feels important, even critical, to be a supportive voice in this moment of collective struggle. 

If you feel hopeless or despairing this week, you are not alone. 

This letter is for you. 

Stick around till the end for journal prompts designed to help you dig deep and hold space for whatever’s coming up right now. Take what you need, leave what doesn’t fit, and let this be part of your healing rhythm this week.

I’ve been sitting with the results of the election for days now, feeling it like a weight pressing down within my soul, heavy and unavoidable. Along with half the country, I’m caught in the thick of Level 1 and 2 energy, holding more fear and frustration than feels manageable. Because it feels bigger than just this election cycle, there's this slow-burning feeling of dread around the future as it relates to peace and stability- both globally and nationally- climate change, women's rights, LGBTQ+ rights, education... the list feels deep and nearly existential at this point. 

And even though I know it’s dragging me down, I find myself pulled into the media spiral, endlessly scrolling, sifting through analysis, hunting for some explanation that might calm this rising dread. Why is it so broken? Why does it feel like people’s basic humanity, women’s rights, our earth, all hang in a balance that’s tipping the wrong way? 

I try to be conscious of balanced media consumption, but I know I live in my own echo chamber too. The shock I felt at this outcome, one I didn’t see coming, makes that crystal clear in hindsight.

I’m sure many of you know exactly what I mean—like you’re in a feedback loop, hearing your values, your truths, the things that feel so clear to you, only to realize there’s a whole other side, equally as relentless, that sees the world through an entirely different lens. And if I’m honest, I’ve felt all of it this week—judgment, disbelief, anger, the kind that fills you and leaves a mark, a hollow where your hope was. Then there’s the sadness, despair, and under all that, an unbreakable fear. Each of these emotions, layered like a Russian doll, one fitting inside the next, cracking open to reveal the next, just as intense, just as real.

So, yes—your emotions are valid. That whole tangled, complicated mess of them. They exist because you care, because you feel the weight of what’s on the line. Feel the weight you carry as a mark of your strength; let yourself see the bigness of what you’re holding, and honor it as valuable and precious because it's real. 

When I feel that fire burning me up from the inside I know that, for me, finding some kind of common ground is my way to survive it. Even writing that feels hard, almost impossible, when everything seems fractured and divided. But if I don’t find something to hold onto, some reminder that there’s humanity left in the people around me—even the ones I’ll never understand—I’ll lose my energy to keep showing up, to stay rooted in my truth. And if I lose that, I lose everything. I have to see people as humans doing the best they can with what they know, even if I disagree with every inch of what they stand for. I have to, or I’ll bleed out my last reserves of hope.

Because underneath all these differences, we’re bound by the same basic needs: Safety. Connection. Peace. These needs run deep in each one of us, even though we might differ in the ways we believe we can get there. We can sit with that, even in the chaos. We rise above by accepting what's real, pulling it close, and holding space for our own truth as well as others- especially when we disagree with them. We can choose humanity even when it's hard. 

I know. You may not be there yet and that's ok. It is one of the hardest things to reconcile as a human- making peace with what we don't believe in, accepting it as a valid part of our reality. I get that what I am asking you to do might feel impossible. 

I am asking you to stand in the fire with me, holding space for this raw, brutal, painful truth even as it burns. Even though it might not feel survivable right now. This is our strength. We can be fully awake to the reality of who we are, and where we are, without letting it strip us of our will to act. 

Integrating the Fire Within

When you're ready, there are pathways to help you get under all these layers of emotions, connect with yourself at a soul level- steady, solid, fucking real. 

I've been leaning into Level Three from the Energy Consciousness framework to help me find some stable ground this week. In times when we feel consumed and suffocated by the thickness of level one and two emotions (fear, overwhelm, dread, frustration, anger, disappointment), tapping into this energy can offer a pathway—and the motivation—to move through the fire. 

Level Three doesn’t require us to forgive or forget or expect us to soften our anger. Rather, it asks us to step up to the line and see the choices we still have, the small places where our voice still matters. Even when the world feels crumbling, we’re still here, and that fire inside us is still burning. We have to be able to sit with it to move through it. I am telling you, you do have the strength to do this. 

I realize this might not feel visible right now, your power, much less leveraging how to use it. 

I know that inner critic well—the one who sits close and whispers, “There's nothing you can do. It's hopeless. You don't matter.” But right now, you sit across from her, you look her in the eye and say, “Not today.” Because you’re not helpless here, whether you believe it or not right at this moment, you’re the one who holds the match, setting new fires and lighting new paths.

So, I ask you to feel the ground under your feet, the weight of your own presence, and the strength in the bones that carry you. Whatever this week has brought to your surface- it’s here because you care. And in the turbulence, you hold the power to keep going, show up, and decide what this fire will mean for you and your children. 

Now is the time to sit in our rawness and in our own fire. We won't wallow and burn there forever, but as long as it takes to begin to recognize the support that’s reaching back for us, ready whenever we are.

I'm not asking you to “move on” or “rise above” your dis-ease around this whole clusterfuck of a situation. In fact, stand taller exactly where you are, as you are. Feel the full weight of it- but don't let it consume you. If you feel like your level 1 and 2 emotions are driving the car right now, that's ok. Let level 3 sit in the passenger seat and say “Okay, I see what’s happening, but I don’t need to burn out here. I can use this.” You’re allowed to take up space in this fire—to be all of it: steady, furious, heartbroken, hopeful.

There’s room for it all.

In these “small fires” we may find our own agency, creating pathways that may not be big or obvious but are real. So, from exactly where you are, in this moment, ask yourself what that next small fire could be. Maybe it’s tending to your needs, nurturing those close to you, or reclaiming enough energy to look beyond the immediate fear or rage and actually plan: What’s the next best step? How can I contribute to change, even in small ways, from exactly where I am?

We are capable of recognizing the pain and fear in others that drive them- the same pain and fear that drives us. We don't have to agree with their approach or whitewash our differences to access a space of genuine compassion- they are, just like you, doing the best they can with what they have at the time. Accepting others' differences does not mean you have to approve of them or feel a certain way about them. Then you root in your own truth and your own power, enough to hold both the fire and the path forward. 

Here are some journal prompts to sit with, if you’re called. Let these be places to witness yourself, to find new edges, or maybe just to be with all that you’re holding, without pressure to change anything.

Journal Prompts:

1. Self-Witnessing

• Where do I feel the weight of the election outcome in my body? Close your eyes, breathe into that place, and let it speak. What does it need to feel heard?

• What emotions are layered within me right now? List them, like unstacking a Russian doll, and sit with each one as it emerges.

2. Exploring Energy Pathways

• If my current energy were a fire, what kind of fire would it be? A small but steady flame? A roaring blaze? Write about what it needs to burn with intention.

• When I feel my inner critic telling me “not enough” or “hopeless,” what would my Level 3 self say in response? What small choice can I make to feel like I have any power in this moment?

3. Shadow Work

• What part of myself is hardest to sit with right now? Is it the anger, the despair, the hopelessness? How might I let that part of me speak without judgment, knowing it’s here for a reason?

• Reflect on the idea of “common ground” without any expectation to agree with others. Where can I let empathy and my own strength coexist, without needing to let go of what I stand for?

4. Claiming Your Next Step

• Where do I still feel my voice matters, even if it’s only in small ways? Is there one place where I can take action, however imperfect, and feel my own agency taking root?

• Ask yourself: What does this fire mean for me? What do I want to remember or carry forward from this experience, even if the world remains uncertain?

5. Challenge Questions for Deeper Healing 

The following journal prompts will drive you deep into your strength and empathy. We don't have to agree with those on the other side or condone what feels wrong. But what if, for just a moment, we allowed ourselves to see that every person is doing the best they can with what they have at the time? Could we ask ourselves: 

• What fears or pain might be fueling the people I disagree with, even those who hurt or terrify me?

• What parts of my own life—fears, wounds, or hopes—are reflected in their beliefs, however twisted they seem?

• If I were to try to find even a thread of common humanity, what would it look like? What would it ask of me?

These challenging questions allow us to tap into our own inner strength and power to choose compassion without abandoning our boundaries. 

You’re allowed to stay in this fire as long as it takes. You’re allowed to feel everything you’re feeling and to use that energy for whatever path feels right. Trust that when you’re ready, you’ll know the next small step forward. Let the fire inside guide you, strengthen you, and trust that it will lead you to what is possible, as long as you are open to receive it.