Based on the December 21st Create Your Magical Life podcast, I’m (slowly) writing a series of posts on how to strengthen, hold on to and shine your light when it seems like the world around you is falling into darkness.

Step 2: Be the Light

When you find the places where you feel the most pain, you’ve found the places you can make the most difference.

There are as many ways to be the light as there are people on this planet. You can love your friends and family as best you can. You can smile at strangers and hold doors open. You can write letters and sign petitions and make phone calls for the candidate or the issue you believe in most. You can sign up to give $10 a month to the charity or advocacy group of your choice. You can pick up litter when you see it on the street. You can make 3oo sandwiches or pack purses full of hotel toiletries and sanitary pads and hand them out to the homeless. You can mentor a child, foster an animal, start a sanctuary, teach someone a skill, sing in retirement homes or simply hold someone’s hand and listen.

My biggest pain points are around children and animals. Stories about abuse are like being pierced with white hot rods. I still cry when I think about a story I read about the mass killing of sled dogs after the Vancouver Olympics. I give money when and where I can. We sponsor a child through Save the Children.We regularly pick up trash on our beach and we do our best to live in environmentally healthy ways. I do my best to walk through the world as kindness and compassion embodied. Sometimes I do this beautifully and at others I’m tired and somebody pushes my buttons.

I’m also learning to be a better ally to people of color and to the LGBTQ community, in more concrete ways. I’m deepening my understanding of my own privilege and working to uncover my hidden biases. It’s uncomfortable and it feels so important. In these places I’m dependent on the light of others to guide my way.

I can’t do it all. Neither can you. But if each of us does what we’re most called to, it adds up and makes a difference. You might contribute in a really big way (like Natasha Wozniak rebuilding villages in Nepal or Sonya Passi at FreeFrom.org, who is working to change the legal system for survivors of domestic violence), or you might do something that seems small (like this vet or this hair stylist). Both are vital to our collective well being.

And of course we can all reflect the light of others, which is my goal with the podcast, with the stories I share on Facebook, with the links above. We can let people know when they’re glowing, when we love and appreciate them, when we see their light.

How do you want to be – or reflect – the light today? 

I’ve been at a loss for words since the shooting in Orlando this weekend. I woke up to the news on my 12th wedding anniversary and felt myself bounce back and forth all day between the celebration and the horror.

My emotions have been jumbled. Anger. Grief. Love. But as I made my breakfast Monday morning, hugged my daughter, laughed with my husband, I was keenly aware of everyone waking up to a new reality.

I remember thinking after Benjamin’s stillbirth how crazy it seemed that the rest of the world kept going while my life was plunged into grief.  This morning and every morning for the next however-long-it-takes, there are people waking up to that awful moment of remembering that life changed yesterday, (or the day before, or a month ago) and they will never see their lover/friend/child/parent again. They’re waking up to the reality that the grief isn’t going away any time soon (or ever). They’re waking up if they were lucky enough to go to sleep at all and forget, for just a few moments, how much pain they’re in.

I remember that feeling of not being able to breathe because it hurt so badly. I remember the shock and the calm and the waves of pain and the grief coming out sideways as I got angry with my husband for no reason other than the anger was easier than the ache.

I remember the feeling of going under and the fear that I wouldn’t resurface. I remember the way I lay awake at night, terrified that my daughter would die too. I remember praying, hard. I remember the way grief shape-shifted and looked like tears one moment, fear the next and often felt like a fire that was burning me from skin to soul. I remember people being so kind and others falling away. I remember wondering how it was possible that the world felt normal to anyone.

My heart is with the friends and families of the victims of the Pulse shooting in Orlando. It is with the LGBT community and the Muslim community. It is with all of us who have known the deep grief of loss.

I want to remind you to be gentle with yourself, because grief triggers grief. I want to remind you that you can be angry and loving at the same time. I want to remind you that violence is never the answer to violence.

I want to invite you to do more than send prayers and love (although do that too). Speak up when you hear hatred being spewed or not-so-subtly hidden behind a joke. Teach your kids, especially your boys, how to navigate their feelings and express their anger in healthy ways. Learn how to do that yourself.

Hold your loved ones close. Because we all know there will be a next time. But don’t give in to the fear.

Choose love, always.

Edited to add: Love is not an excuse to do nothing, nor is it permission to spiritually bypass what feels dark or difficult. Love is about growth, getting uncomfortable, making changes and hard choices. Love is not easy, but it is what makes life worthwhile.

 

I was first introduced to The Alphabet of Now by one of my favorite bloggers, Lindsey Mead of A Design So Vast. It’s a fun way to take a snapshot of life, especially as we turn the page from one year to the next.

I’d love it if you joined me. Feel free to post your answers in the comments, or a link to your blog post if you write one. If you share on Facebook, please tag me so I can read it.

Wishing you a magical end to 2015 and may your new year be exactly what you need.

A: Ada, always. She is the light of my life and watching her grow is pure delight. She challenges me, teaches me, moves me. That she is in my life at all reminds me that each of us is a miracle.

B: Brother. We just came back from a week with my brother and his family. He is ridiculously smart, hilariously funny and always broadens my perspective on the world. I don’t see him often but I’m always grateful when our families get to spend time together.

C: Cozy. I’m craving coziness these days – whether it’s the warmth of my winter jacket against the chill in the air (yes, even here in California) or cuddling up on the couch to watch a movie with my two favorite people. Cozy is something I want more of in 2016 because to me, it also implies that there is time to enjoy and appreciate it.

D: Devotion. My word for 2016. It’s become a mantra that beats in time with my heart and is pulling me forward into this new year. Delicious was a close second for word of the year. I might have to spend some time devoted to delicious in 2016.

E: Excellence. When WebTalkRadio invited me to host a podcast, they provided me with a seasoned and very talented coach. She has been integral to the success of the podcast this year and she keeps pushing me toward excellence (without perfectionism). I am deeply grateful for her support.

F: Food. This fall we hired a personal chef (a single mama from our daughter’s school) to cook two meals a week for us. My husband is on the road so much that when it came to dinners, I found myself throwing together what I could as quickly as I could and it became very unsatisfying. It wasn’t terribly healthy either. It felt ridiculous at first because in my head, I knew I “should” be able to make a healthy meal every night. It was such a huge gift though, to have delicious food in the fridge and we’re actually saving money on take out and wasting less food.

G: Gratitude. It’s such a part of my life and my daily practice. I am always saying thank you and I could say it even more, especially to the people in my closest circles who do so much to make my life magical.

H: Happiness. I love my life and sometimes I fall into a trough of shoulds and end up carrying what feels like the weight of the world on my shoulders. I’m re-evaluating what’s on my plate and making a few changes so there’s more room for quiet afternoons, snuggles on the couch, visits or phone calls with friends and all the other things that make me happy.

I: Intentions. I don’t do goals or resolutions at the new year, but I do have clear intentions for my life and the direction I’m heading. I’m sitting with those today and wondering what 2016 will bring.

J: Joy. I’m saying yes to more joy this year. Every year. I think it’s always good to expand one’s capacity to experience joy.

K: Kindness. I remember realizing several years ago how my expectations of people, even strangers, affected my interactions with them. Because I expect people to be kind, they usually are. It makes life much easier and less stressful. And when people aren’t kind, I do my best to see them with compassionate eyes, even if those eyes are momentarily looking through a haze of anger.

L: Love. Laughter. Leggings. Because the first is fundamental to my world view, the second to my well being and the third to my comfort. ‘Nuff said.

M: Magic. I’ve long been a believer in the magic and mystery of the universe. The deeper I dive into it, the more magic shows up in my life.

N: Naturopath. I started seeing a naturopath a few months ago and she uncovered some health issues that I’d been feeling but no one else had been able to make sense of. I’m hopeful that working with her will finally ease some of the challenges I’ve experienced the last few years.

O: Ocean. Living near the ocean sustains me in so many ways. I breathe more deeply at her shore. I continue to be immeasurably grateful for her gifts, even as she scares me sometimes with her power. The beach is often my office and it’s where I go when I need perspective, answers and strength. And the sunsets remind me of all that is good and right in the world.

P: Practice. I’m deepening my devotion to my personal and spiritual practices and I can feel the positive effects in tangible and intangible ways. Practice is powerful. Practice is what leads to mastery.

Q: Questions. I realized at one point this year that I don’t ask enough questions of myself, of others, of life. I’m reigniting my curiosity and remembering that there is no dumb question if sincerely asked. It helps me stay in touch with my beginner’s mind and reminds me there’s always more to learn.

R: Reading. Reading has always been one of my greatest passions and there’s so little time for it in this full life of work and parenting and partnering. I’m doing my best to add it in where I can, even if that means listening to a book on tape in bits and pieces or having three books on the go that I can pick up and put down as necessary. (P.S. Have any favorites to recommend?)

S: Strength. I started exercising in new ways this year, in modified cross-fit or boot-camp style classes that I alternately hate and mildly dislike. Normally I dance, do yoga, walk or hike (and I still do those) but I got a little addicted to how much stronger my body felt from these workouts. I’m actually starting to enjoy them. Sometimes they’re too much and I don’t go – I can only push my body so far right now. There’s something about the discipline and focus that it takes to get through them that reminds of the ballet classes of my youth. And the drive to actually see my tricep muscles and do a full push up are fun motivators right now.

T: Trust. Always. Learning. Deepening. My life lesson is slowly becoming one of my superpowers.

U: Unknown. Even though I have dreams and desires I’m working toward, I feel like I’m standing on the edge of a vast unknown. I have a feeling this next year is going to bring some big challenges and even bigger gifts (like every year does). So here I stand, wings spread, ready to soar into the next chapter of this great adventure.

V: Violence and Vrai. As I contemplated the letter V, these are the two words I couldn’t shake. Violence because the world seems filled with it right now and vrai – French for true – because we all have to find what’s true for us in the midst of it. I refuse to live in fear and I acknowledge that fear lives in me. I see the violence and hold onto the belief that there are enough of us who wish to make the world a better, safer, kinder place that we will eventually reach a tipping point. I have to find my true place in the balance of darkness and light, of observation and action. So do you, n’est-ce pas?

W: Wishes. I have big wishes this year – for me, for those I love, for the world at large. I’m blowing dandelions and eyelashes and birthday candles and wishing on stars. And then I’m letting go, trusting that they’ll land where they need to.

X: (E)Xplore. At the urging of Jena and Cigdem over at The Inky Path, I’ve chosen Exploration as my writing word for 2016. I want to be more present here on the blog and the only way I can do that is to give myself time and space to write badly and explore the things I want to say privately first. The pressure to publish has kept me feeling stuck recently (along with much of my focus going to the podcast and client work). Writing feels as necessary as breathing to me, and yet it’s one of the first ways I shut myself down. This is the year of putting freedom back into my written words so I can find my way back to the practice of writing, the way back to that piece of my soul that feels lost and abandoned without it.

Y: Yes. I’m practicing saying yes again this year thanks to my friend Kiran over at Mystic Girl in the City. This means more discernment, more saying no, more space to feel whether something is really a yes before the word is voiced. I’m practicing a true yes, not an obligated yes or a thoughtless yes but a deep, delicious yes. This is a very real and sometimes painful challenge, but when I allow myself to focus on it, the magic increases a hundredfold.

Z: Zzzzzzz’s. I’m still working on getting enough sleep, particularly since I’m getting up earlier to create space for my practices before the day begins. Years of not enough rest have caught up to me (along with those previously mentioned health issues) and sleep has become even more important. I don’t regret the years of sleep-deprivation when my daughter was young and I’m doing my best to counter their effects now.

What’s your Alphabet of Now? I’d love to know.