From Chaos to Love

There are moments when I stop and think,

What the f* is happening?**

Moments when the world feels upside down—when the systems meant to protect, stabilize, and serve us feel fractured, misaligned, or unreachable. When institutions feel slow or silent. When power feels distant. When trust feels absent.

We’re living inside overlapping crises—social, political, ecological, emotional—and many of us feel it in our bodies before we can name it with words. A low buzz of anxiety. A sense of vigilance. The quiet grief of realizing that what once felt reliable no longer does.

And when the outer world feels this unsteady, the question becomes deeply personal:

How do I stay grounded when the world around me feels so unsteady?

Connecting to Nature to Find Ground

Last week, I connected—almost synchronistically—with a dear friend I met on my dream trip to Bali. On the very day we were scheduled to talk, her city, Minneapolis, was in shock and mourning after the loss of Renee Nicole Good. The timing felt heavy. And holy.

She showed up anyway.

She let me sit with her in her grief. I listened. I held space. And what unfolded was raw and real—a reminder that when systems fail, human connection is often what remains.

A few days later, when I checked in again, her voice had changed.

“There are monsters all around me,” she said.“They’re dressed up. They’re wearing masks. They have guns. They’re terrorizing the city. They’re terrorizing my community.”

I heard fear. Rage. Heartbreak. And beneath it—something fierce: her refusal to disconnect from love. Her insistence on staying present, staying human, staying engaged with her community even as it felt under attack.

That moment cracked something open in me.

Because when systems collapse or become harmful, we are often told—implicitly or explicitly—to numb out, look away, or harden. And yet here was a human being doing the opposite: feeling deeply, loving fiercely, and choosing connection anyway.

When trust fades, how do we root ourselves in love without losing our clarity—or our courage?

The concept of "Meliorism" emphasizes the belief in the natural improvement of the world and the significant role of human effort in enhancing it.

For me, the answers aren’t grand or performative. They’re practical. They’re repeatable.

It’s the practice my yoga teacher in Bali offered us: “I invite you each to wake up and sit in gratitude for the very first breath you take.”

Not the whole day.

Not my whole life.

Just the breath.

It’s choosing presence at home when the world feels overwhelming. Stopping mid-distraction. Looking my children and my husband in the eyes. Listening. Remembering that attention is a form of love—and resistance.

It’s letting nature re-regulate what the nervous system absorbs from the news, the noise, the constant alertness.

Sun on my skin.

Wind in the trees.

Birdsong.

The steady reminder that life continues to grow, breathe, and respond.

Through these small acts, I return to love—not as a bypass, but as an anchor.

This doesn’t excuse injustice. It doesn’t minimize harm.

It doesn’t replace the need for accountability, reform, or action.

But it does remind me who I am while I’m responding.

And maybe that’s the work right now.

When the world feels unsteady, grounding isn’t about carrying the weight of broken systems on your back. It’s about staying human inside them.

So here’s the invitation:

Slow down enough to feel.

Practice loving-kindness.

Name what you’re grateful for—not because everything is good, but because something still is.

Reach out to friends and neighbors.

Have real conversations.

Ask better questions.

And staying awake, together, may be one of the most powerful things we can do right now.

You might sit with these questions, slowly and honestly:

• What is within my control right now?

• What helps me feel more present in my body?

• Where can I choose care over urgency today?

• What simple practice helps me reconnect to myself?

• Where do I feel love available—in breath, nature, rest, or relationship?

• How can I tend to my own nervous system with kindness?

  
  

There is no right way to do this. Only your way.

An Invitation

If you’re longing for a place to land, to exhale, and to be held in community, I invite you to join us for Women’s Circle on January 25, Coming Home to Self—a space for presence, reflection, and connection.

And if you’re seeking more individualized support, I offer 1–1 Coaching, beginning with a Complimentary Discovery Call. It’s a gentle, no-pressure conversation to explore what you’re navigating and see if working together feels supportive.

You don’t have to have it all figured out. You just have to start where you are.

I’d love to join you. 🌙