week 45
It is heartbreaking and devastating and enraging and inconceivable.
And yet.
I have hope. I feel more hopeful and calmer than I have in a very long time. I am accessing the deep, inner well of peace that I have found this year out of necessity, and now refuse to stray from.
This has by far been the hardest year of my life, filled with grief for myself and my family and my friends and my country. But it has also been the most beautiful. It has been a year of heartbreak, but it has broken me open to seeing things differently and connecting with others out of necessity. It has led me to facing fears and feelings and becoming involved with my community in ways I never have before. I felt the magic of being a part of something much, much larger than myself as we kept pushing and fighting for our democracy and a qualified candidate who would have made history with her presidency.
Because of the magic, I felt confident and hopeful and active in ways I haven’t for a long time, which in some ways made it even harder to swallow when we lost. I met so many lovely, inspiring people, many of whom were volunteering for the first time because they cared so much. It breaks my heart to see their devastation. I do not want to minimize anyone’s grief or tell them how to process. I do not want to try to spiritually bypass this stage of grief and processing of our tremendous loss.
And yet.
The energy and the magic are still here. We are still connected. After losing the short game, we are all able to continue our momentum for the long game. I look around, and I see a bunch of rightly terrified people. But I also see our connection with each other, our shared humanity and desire to protect each other and to continue fighting for progress. I understand that I am in many privileged positions that make it imperative that I use my energy and resources to help others in more vulnerable positions. And I have many ideas that I hope will take off and that I can share in time when we are ready.
It turns out that spending a year focusing on radically redefining failure for myself has well-equipped me to cope with this loss. Being broken has opened me up to new ways of thinking, new people, and new possibilities. I can fully appreciate the exquisite beauty in the connections we all formed to come together for a goal much larger than ourselves, and that beauty is in no way diminished because we failed— nor is our connection broken or ending here. I was buoyed by all of the amazing people I’ve met, and I continue to be incredibly inspired as we pick ourselves up and come together again to move forward.
When hope is the hardest to hold, it is also the most necessary. We will get through this together and eventually be stronger as a result. This is not the end.