Awe and wonder amidst fear and uncertainty
I’ve been quiet for a few months.
When things started opening up, I got tricked into having false hopes for things to stabilize. My mother came to visit me for my birthday. We hadn’t seen each other in 18 months! After her visit, I planned to go on a road trip up north, and a small gathering with family in October.
Then in an instant, the fires began. My hopeful period didn’t last very long. I canceled both my trips. Sigh.
Here in Northern California, I feel the threat of fire and drought much more intensely than the Delta variant. Six homes on my street have sold this summer. The sense of “flight” to seek safety is heavy in the air. Flight from fire, floods, and other natural disasters. And also flight from war and violence, in Afghanistan and many other parts of the world.
I teach about how our brain is primed to react to change, uncertainty, loss of control, unfairness, as threats to our survival. And what we can do to calm our system in these moments. But when "moments" of threat are an on-going reality, this keeps our nervous systems in a constant state of alert and fight-flight reactivity.
I feel the toll of this in my body.
It takes more energy and effort to do things. I’ve noticed the voice of judgment creep in “Why are you taking so long?” “Why aren’t you getting more done?” I watch myself withdraw to conserve my energy.
Many leaders I coach are going through their own version of this. And they’re also feeling the threat of being on the receiving end of blame and shaming.
What’s been most helpful for me - as well as leaders I support - are tried and true practices that ground the body and nervous system in safety and self-worth. These practices are powerful anchors that counter fear, grief, blame, shame, and polarization that can get kicked up in the uncertainty and stress of these times.
It’s easy to forget that the companion to threat and crisis is resilience and healing.
So I want to share some things that continue to uplift my spirits, to put some attention on the resilience we carry within us, and the life-force we're a part of.
Below are some photos of awe and wonder from my garden. And a video of me in my joy practice, dancing to the second BTS choreography I’ve learned during COVID. (BTS is the Korean band I’ve fallen in love with for their artistry and expression - tender, kind, vulnerable, emotional, humble - that counter toxic masculinity and binary gender stereotypes).
I hope what I share infuses your nervous system and body with a smile and little shot of delight and amusement to bring to your day!
My garden. Constant source of awe and wonder.
We're used to seeing images of big beautiful garden veggies. But when was the last time you saw tiny baby vegetables with blossoms still attached?
And apples. An ordinary fruit. But did you know it takes 30-40 leaves to produce enough energy through photosynthesis to grow one apple?
Here’s a window into the lifecycle of an apple. If the blossom gets cross-pollinated (thank you bees!), seeds will start developing and then the petals fall off.
A small cluster of apples begin to grow.
In this video, I'm "thinning" each small cluster so one baby apple is left with more light and airflow to grow. I never realized this helps apples grow until I started learning how to grow food!
I took this photo just the other day, almost 3 months after thinning. Harvest time is coming soon!
This is an heirloom “russet”variety with rough skin like a Bosc pear or russet potato. Most people like apples with unblemished skin, so these aren’t really grown for consumer consumption.
As much as the garden is a refuge for me, there are constant threats to survival here too! It never ceases to amaze me, that baby veggies and fruits actually survive through all the hazards and make it to my kitchen.
The energy and life-force of the garden...
Finally, here's a version of shameless joy and life-force. May it bring a chuckle and a smile : )
This is what it really looks like…BTS performing their song "Butter," live on the Stephen Colbert Show.
With wishes for moments of awe and wonder - and even joy - amidst fear, grief, and overwhelm.