I began writing this months ago, with the intention that it would help me process my feelings and connect with you, but it proved to be a more frustrating experience than a cathartic one.
In the original draft of this post, I wrote about my experience at my daughter’s volleyball tournament where I observed an attitude of capitalization. When a team or player was at a disadvantage, some of the players, coaches, and parents used that vulnerability as an opportunity. It was weaponized privilege, and I hated that it was part of high school sports.
And then I deleted what I wrote about that.
I wrote about how my feelings after the US election mirrored my feelings after the volleyball tournament.
And then I deleted all of that.
I wrote examples of the marginalization of women and minority groups, detailed the gender pay gap, and shared a cutesy anecdote where I lamented about my son’s soccer team being named the Lightning Hawks while my daughter’s soccer team, in contrast, was named team Strawberry Cakes.
And then I deleted all of that, too.
With my writing (and my thoughts) unresolved, I closed my laptop and left my words alone, to fester. While my draft sat untouched, a mess of feminist angst and lousy grammar, the festering was only exasperated by the ongoing traumas being highlighted in mainstream media.
Gisele Pelicot, and her story of bravery in the face of unfathomable and criminal betrayal, was spreading across the world during the same week that Helen Pattison, the chief executive of War Child UK, told us that 96% of the children in Gaza believe they are just waiting to die. How is it possible that while we read, hear, and see stories of horrifying acts against our most vulnerable, we simultaneously read, hear, and see stories celebrating and glorifying oppression and dominance? How can we hold Ms. Pelicot’s story in our hearts, while being given Time Magazine’s person of the year issue to hold in our hands? How can we feel safe and secure in the world with this type of collective incongruence?
And with those questions at the forefront of my mind, I have returned to my laptop, blown the dust off my previously typed words, and come to the following conclusion:
I don’t understand any of this.
Instead, on this Winter Solstice Day, I’m going to finish writing this by telling you that I don’t understand what has happened in the past to bring us here, I don’t know what is happening currently, and I really don’t know what is going to happen next.
In the absence of my own knowing, and with the hope that it will bring you the comfort it brought to me, I will instead offer you this prayer from Danielle LaPorte.
A Prayer for Resilience and Light from Danielle Laporte:
“We give thanks for our togetherness, our sameness, our contrasts, and the light and resilience we reflect back to one another.
We give thanks for the
Holy that holds us
and the humanity that brings
us back to the Holy
to the light and resilience we reflect back to one another.
We ask that our self-compassion becomes love and understanding for
everyone around us,
that our personal happiness be woven to the heart of the world
and that our nourishment feeds the collective.
May the sweetness of this moment
radiate to all beings everywhere
that we may see the light and resilience
we reflect back to one another.”
As the holiday season places twinkling lights and magical moments upon the backdrop of our global incongruence–I wish for all of us, as a collective family, a 2025 full of resilience and light.
(And also…Go Team Strawberry Cakes. Regardless of what your sweet team name tries to suggest, your legacy awaits. With resilience and light, go get ‘em)
**You can hear Danielle LaPorte read her prayer to you here:
https://www.instagram.com/reel/DDmZTCmoOxh/?igsh=MzJ6YXE3bXh5aTk3