Dear Friend,
This past week, the seven days since last I wrote you, has felt like a voyage into an alternate universe. Not one that I wanted to visit, but where we seem to be.
When I woke up at 3am on Wednesday morning and read about the election results, sadness and fear surged through my body.
Tears erupted from the place inside me where my soul and my DNA meet each other, where pain from past generations reminds me that it’s part of what I’m made of.
A few hours later, I overcaffeinated and cried some more.
I texted friends. We sent each other articles, memes and dark, dark jokes. I felt my life force coming back, a bit. All week has been that kind of back and forth, moving between determination and fear. Fear of being in a world that suddenly feels much less safe. Awareness of vulnerability for so many people, including my own children: one with severe disabilities who requires Medicaid, one who is transgender and requires access to affirming medical care.
I took the photos at the top of this post on a dusky walk, late afternoon on the day after the election. I walked through a woodsy trail while the sky shifted from light to twilight and then to dark. I was aware of the dusk as a metaphor, capturing all of the uncertainty I was feeling.
In the metaphor world of dusk, our shadows and fears are present. So is our imagination, the place of possibility. What we dream of. The world that we want to create, even though for me at least, it feels incredibly far away.
Come write with me, anyway.
In today’s prompt, we’ll visit the dusk of uncertainty and its potential, the darkness we may be feeling and also, our dreams.
If you have a friend who might appreciate this practice today, invite them along.
Writing Practice: Set aside 5-7 minutes for this practice. Write in a journal or open a ‘Journey with The Season’ document where you can return each Sunday.
Prompt: Take a few deep breaths. Read the words in the image above and let them wash over you–don’t think too hard, just read them once or twice.
The write in response to these two questions. You may want to bring in some of those words to help you get you started:
What’s bringing you comfort, light or strength right now?
What does the world that you want to live in look and feel like?
There is power in writing out your vision for the world, even if it feels far away right now.
You may want to find comfort in sharing your vision with a trusted friend or loved one. Keep writing in response to these questions and see what emerges!
I’d love to read your expressions, send them my way.
Deepening Practice: If you find something that brings you comfort this week, pay it forward. Reach out to a friend. Share a poem. Invite someone to take a walk. Journal about the dusk, where you’re finding light and when the darkness seeps in. Keep imagining a world that we can create.
Wishing you comfort, strength & access to your imagination! With love, Gabrielle Ariella