Care and Connection in these Challenging Times
Let’s be real. Because after all, this is what our mindfulness and yoga practice allows us to do, to be here, to be real, to make choices, and to stay in our bodies and clear in our minds, present with what is unfolding around and within us, so we can show up as who we want to be.
This year has begun in a way that feels disorienting for many people. The pace of events can be overwhelming, and the stories we are being asked to live inside, stories of disconnection, fear, chaos, violence, and abject cruelty — can pull us far from our own sense of steadiness, belonging, and safety.
And yet, in our everyday lives, we also know another truth.
Years of meditation and yoga practice have helped me stay close to what is real, even when reality is painful or uncertain. Sometimes that means seeing things clearly in ways that hurt. Sometimes it means noticing small moments of connection, tenderness, or hope. Lately, I’ve been thinking about how this grounded awareness of our interconnected existence stands in deep contrast to so many of the isolating and hostile narratives of this moment.
We rely on one another for almost everything we have and everything we are. As Sebene Selassie writes in You Belong: A Call for Connection:
“You are not separate. You never were. You never will be.”
The clothes on our backs, the food on our tables, the safety, care, and love that have supported us at different times in our lives — all of these exist because of connection. Our lives are shaped through relationship. Our interdependence, not dominance or isolation, is our true nature.
So what do we do in a moment when so many forces seem to be pushing us away from that truth?
Our practice, at it’s best, helps point out our moments of choice when they arrive.
Below are a few gentle reminders, offered to myself and to all of us, about how practice can support us in times that feel frightening, destabilizing, or overwhelming.
First, we can show up for ourselves.
We can notice how this moment is affecting our bodies, our nervous systems, our sense of safety, and our hearts, and for some, even our health or capacity.
We can tend to that.
We can care for it.
We can honor what is here.
How is your practice of presence right now?
Can you feel your breath? Your feet? Your hands. Your body?
Does any part of you need attention? Some softness, support, or gentle tending?
This may be a time to:
reconnect with your body and breath and mindful awareness practices
connect with community
find a mindfulness or yoga practice partner
check in with a trusted friend or teacher
keep a simple practice journal
or let friends and loved ones know how you’re doing and how you are caring for yourself
reach out for support when you need it
Give yourself time, space, and some kind of gentle accountability for how you are doing in all of this, not as pressure or obligation, but as permission to care for your own well being. This can offer scaffolding to help us stay present, steady, and real with what is here.
Second, we can tend to the relationships within our circle.
One of my teachers, Kate Johnson, author of Radical Friendship: Seven Ways to Love Yourself and Find Your People in an Unjust World, invited a group I was a part of to ask this question:
How is your strong friend, the one who rarely asks for support, doing?
Another helpful question is:
Who in your world may be feeling especially vulnerable, scared, angry, or unsafe right now?
Friends, colleagues, neighbors, loved ones, people whose lives may be directly touched by the current moment in painful or frightening ways.
Sometimes what matters most is:
a check-in
a kind word
a gesture of care
a reminder that someone is not alone
Small acts of acknowledgment are often not as small as they seem.
They help us remember who we are to one another, connected, interdependent, part of a larger human fabric. In this way, we help each other stay grounded in what is real, and less vulnerable to the pull of fear, isolation, and disconnection.
And finally, we can counter narratives of disconnection with choosing care and responsibility.
Our practice and the clarity it brings shows us that we are embodied, connected, and interdependent, and we hold responsibility for one another’s dignity and safety. Other people matter. How we show up with and for each other matters.
If it feels possible in your life right now, you might explore ways to support the fabric of care in your orbit, such as:
networks or community organizations for mutual aid or support
immigrant and refugee support or advocacy organizations
peace and justice and democracy initiatives
acts of service, activism or advocacy
And if you do not have the time, energy, health, or capacity to engage in these or other forms of collective engagement right now — that, too, is real. There are seasons of participation, and seasons of healing.
Your presence, awareness, and compassion in this moment, and every moment, matters.
May we stay real.
May we stay present.
May we stay in relationship with ourselves, with one another, and with the world we share.
Wishing all of us steadiness, care, and peace,
Justine