There are a lot of people who think spirituality is this soft, fluffy thing, maybe with angels floating or windchimes playing in the background. Something gentle that you turn to when you can’t deal with the real world.
Bwahahahahahahahahahahaha. Now in Spanish: jajajajajajajajajajaja.
The exact opposite is true.
The more violent this fascist takeover becomes, the more obvious it is to me: spiritual practice is not an escape from reality, it is preparation for it.
I am more committed than ever to my own practice, and to teaching others how to find or deepen theirs.
Not because I want people to feel “better,” but because we need to grow the biggest possible pair of balls ever, asap.
There are times in history when what’s required of you is simple, brutal courage.
More and more of us need to become willing to put our body, our voice, our livelihood between violence and other human beings. Between assassins and our fellow humans.
And quite frankly, that sounds fucking terrifying to me.
How do I become willing to do terrifying things?
I can’t tell you exactly where courage comes from. I don’t think it’s the same for everyone.
What I’ve learned over time is that courage is not a personality trait. It isn’t something you either have or don’t.
It is a practice.
It must be cultivated, renewed, and re-earned repeatedly.
What allowed you to stand firm yesterday may not be enough today.
What does help is a relationship to meaning, to intuition, to something much larger than fear. Without that, it is very difficult to do the right thing when it feels literally dangerous.
You can sometimes get it by touching something inside yourself that you cannot fully explain, but can fuel, inspire, and sustain you.
That force is what allows us to stand up for what is right.
And just as importantly, to stand up for each other.
In my experience, courage rarely grows in isolation.
It spreads.
It’s contagious.
It grows in community, through witnessing others take risks, speak honestly, protect one another, refuse what cannot be accepted.
That’s why I am obsessed with strengthening my own capacity to act with integrity in the face of terror, and helping others do the same.
I believe it is both a responsibility and a privilege to keep practicing, especially now. To remain in relationship with what gives us backbone. To refuse numbness. To stay oriented toward what is right, even when the path forward is unclear.
Right now, I sustain myself by paying attention to acts of courage, big and small. Like this freaking goddess shero standing up for her neighbor, this community protecting their own, this guy taking us to school on IG, or Qasim Rashid keeping us actually informed.
What have you seen recently that made you feel less alone in this hellscape?
What made you think “Maybe we’re gonna make it out of this, maybe we’ll make it through?”
What act of courage—yours or someone else’s—helped you remember that this story is not over?
Finding and sharing proof that courage is still being practiced, loudly and quietly, in bursts or steady trickles, all around us, helps us keep practicing.
Because it is both our responsibility and our privilege.
Because we are una del pueblo.
Because our power is not gone, we just need to wield it.