When I hear a theme emerging across all my conversations – from friends to clients to people I meet out in the world – I feel compelled to write about it here. Right now the theme is, “It’s too much.”
I understand this. As I shared in our recent Gathering Gold episode on the Dark Night of the Soul, there’s a lot going on over here as well, and there have been moments when it has felt like too much. And, as I also shared, there are many more moments when I’m able to tap into something underneath the current personal and collective stories and feel into the place where it’s all okay.
There’s no doubt that there’s a lot going on from the collective to the personal, and those two are interrelated; we can’t separate the collective from the personal. On the personal front I’m hearing about:
- job loss
- job insecurity
- illness
- breakups
- moves
- friends’ parents dying
- loss of loved ones
And in the collective we’re hearing about:
- the economy
- politics
- natural disasters
- war
- the world stage
In short, there is a lot of loss and uncertainty. It’s what happens during transitions.
The Arc of Transitions
But lest we fall into despair as we feel the grief and fear of this time, let’s not forget the arc of transitions that I’ve been teaching for 25 years: with every death comes a rebirth. With every loss, comes a new beginning.
It’s easy to become lost in the mud of crumbling, to sink into “it’s too much” and stay there. We must allow ourselves to feel the hard, but if that’s all we’re feeling it really will become too much at some point.
For there is always the possibility of shifting into the deeper place where it’s okay, where we find a bit of ground amidst the groundlessness, where we trust in the goodness of our trajectory both personally and collectively. Any practices that help us to tap into that place are essential so that we have space for ourselves, for our loved ones, and for the collective.
Both/And
The task, whether we’re enduring a personal or collective transition (or both), is to hold both: to grieve the ending and to hold the lifeline of the new beginning. This is where a both/and approach to life becomes essential.
I talk a lot about grief and gratitude: toggling between the two where we hold grief in one hand and gratitude in the other. We could put a lot of different words in these hands:
- Crumbling and Re-building
- Doubt and Trust
- Winter and Spring
- Polarization and Unification
These aren’t opposites. These are sibling places that work in consort with one another to arrive at a third body that is a result of their union.
The more we make room for grief the wider our gratitude, and the wider our gratitude the more we can tolerate grief.
The more we lean into doubt, the more we find that it’s a pathway into trust. The deeper our trust, the wider our capacity for doubt. When we allow ourselves to go through periods of doubt – what we call dark night of the soul – whether it’s doubting love for your partner or doubting the existence of whatever we call God – when we find the courage to allow for doubt, it ultimately strengthens our trust. These are infinity sign relationships; it’s not one or the other. It’s holding the all and the everything.
The Time is Now
This is deep work that we’re all being asked to do right now. It’s hard work.
We can feel ourselves teetering.
We can feel the uncertainty.
And then we can and must find our pathways back.
Everyone has their pathways that return us to the center of the labyrinth where we feel held, safe, good, whole, protected, and connected. The time is now to commit to these pathways so that we can stay as steady as we can amidst the storms.
A River of Hope
It’s hard to trust that something good will come when things are falling apart. From all appearances, there’s no reason to trust that this will be so. But I’ll tell you what I’m also seeing alongside the “it’s too much” theme: a rising up of hope.
It’s wild, brilliant, and beautiful, and it’s completely counterintuitive: but there is a deep trust that we are going somewhere good! It doesn’t make sense to our rational brains but it makes sense to another part of us. It’s sensing into another energy that’s here. You’re not going to hear it on Facebook or Instagram. You’re not going to see it in the headlines. But when you drop down and tap in, you might feel it.
The letting go becomes manageable because underneath there is a river of hope. There is a burgeoning of hope. Something else is coming. We can’t quite see it yet, but we can feel it. And it tempers the challenges.
Again, this has been the philosophy I’ve been teaching for several decades. When you’re in a transition, you’re in a crumbling, and what makes it okay is that spring always comes. There is an arc and a pattern to all transitions, including global transitions.
And there is no doubt that we’re in a global transition (I have several free webinars on this topic that I released at the beginning of the pandemic).
A Global Transition
This transition reached one apex in 2020, and it’s reaching another one now. We’re in a massive death experience collectively. It’s hard. Very hard. But there is something else happening as well. There is a big spring on the way. We can choose to trust what is unseen and unspoken right now because we know it and feel it. We know what we know.
Amidst the swelling of hope, there is a reclaiming of what is rightfully ours: our self-trust, our sovereignty, our YESES and NOS, our creativity, our rhythm and our desire to live in the rhythm, our trust in something bigger than ourselves. There is a collective remembering that we’re made for more than we think we are, and we’re tired of playing small. It’s time for our voices to be heard and our gifts to be known.
What is crumbling for you right now? And, if you’re going to answer that question, also respond to these two questions: What are you reclaiming? What are the practices that return you to the place where all is well?
Thank you so much for yet another great article. To answer the question ‘what is crumbling for you?’, it feels like the world is crumbling. I have this sad sense deep within me that humanity is heading, potentially irreversibly, in the wrong direction. I try to reclaim my creativity, and my love for my wife, but sometimes the sadness and anxiety feels too real, and too much. For the first time, I am beginning to wonder whether humanity is, intrinsically, not very nice. Good exists, sure, but maybe evil is stronger. I really don’t want to depress any of your readers, so I apologise in advance for that. But sometime, this is how it feels for me.
On a positive note, here are some words of poetry I’ve written, which might be of comfort to some:
https://joshuaseigalpoet.blogspot.com/2022/06/victories.html
Thanks again.
Joshua: You’re not alone with feeling this sense of hopelessness and despair, and that’s part of the reason why I wrote this article: to be a voice of hope. I know it feels like we’re heading down a dead-end road, but there is a groundswell of a very positive force rising up. I know it’s hard to trust when things look dire, but change is underfoot. If you’ve trusted me in the past I encourage you to trust me now! We’re going to be okay. Light always overpowers darkness, but it often happens at 11:59pm.
The poem is beautiful, as always. And if we can acknowledge these small victories, we’re doing okay.
Thank you. I guess one must have trust, otherwise there is no point to anything.
Trust is EVERYTHING! It’s truly the only way through the hard times (and through life). The question is: What helps you return to the place of trust – the place where you feel safe, held, connected, loved? And – second question – what stops you from doing the practices that help you return to the place of trust and connection?
Hi Joshua!
You’ve managed to articulate how I currently feel so very well.
Personally, I’m so very lucky – my personal and work life are headed into an exciting direction, but I find it hard to truly feel that joy sometimes when I recall the state of the world at large.
What I can’t shake, however, is this. When big changes happen, there’s always a small minority that dig their heels in, and fight harder for things to remain the same. I believe that we’re living through a time where these voices are shouting the loudest, which is why things are so hard right now.
But change is coming, and it NEEDS to happen. I feel it in my bones. And I wonder whether the work right now is not to berate myself about feeling bad when things are going well/feeling content even though the world’s a mess right now, but to learn to ride that wave knowing I’m not alone in this. To trust that though this change may not be happening as swiftly as I’d like, it is coming, and there’s a groundswell of people like this community who are there on the journey with me.
Thanks L, and thanks Sheryl. I’m so glad that you both have hope. That’s something to cling onto. I wonder what form these ‘better times ahead’ will take, whether they’ll be tangible and material, or whether they’ll be spiritual and, dare I say, religious.
I’m venturing that there’s something between spiritual and religious – both of which carry heavy, and sometimes negative connotations for people – that is closer to the realm of soul.
You’re not alone, Joshua – it’s hard to stay positive right now…i woke up the other night in a mild panic thinking “Do we have a future? is it actually a good idea to have children given the direction we’re heading in? will I one day have to fight in a war? will my future children be conscripts or refugees due to the reckless actions of world leaders?” – I’ve never really had a spiral such as that one, but I think that is reflective of how lucky I’ve been in this life. So many have suffered this way for centuries.
All we can do is be our best selves in the small communities that we belong to…it’s all we can do. And never let evil triumph over good…no matter what!
Yes, Alum. Exactly the same with me. My wife and I are planning maybe to start a family this year, and I’m sure that’s contributing to my worries about how bad the world seems.
Hope it’s ok to hop in on this – something I once heard that I found of great comfort when having children amidst what felt like the world crumbling down (especially giving birth in the middle of the pandemic), was that we have to trust (that word again!) that our children are born into the time that is right for them. So, if you have faith in God or a higher power of any sort, you can trust that just as you weren’t born on your birthdate by accident, your children also will be born at the time they are supposed to be. And under our loving guidance as parents, no matter what is going on outside our front doors, they might then grow up to make a difference and have a positive influence on the time/whatever crisis is occurring in the world in their adulthood.
I also wonder if every generation worries that the next is growing up into a terrible world. But whilst acknowledging the things that are hard and wrong going on around us, we can still choose to see (and raise our children to see) all that is still so beautiful and inherently good on the earth and in humanity.
Not sure if any help but sharing just in case! x
NJ, thanks so much for this, it’s really helpful. I’m not sure if I believe in a Higher Power, but I wish I did. If I’m being brutally honest, my worries are not just about the baby, but about myself: will I be able to be a good husband and father, whilst at the same time spending all my mental energy ruminating and catastophising about AI and nuclear war? It’s not just ‘is the world OK?’; it’s also ‘am I OK?’…if that makes sense
The great irony is that it’s exactly men like you and Alum that make the best fathers!
It brings joy to my heart that you would say that, but I really don’t know if I have it in me.
Everyone feels that way around having kids, especially those prone to anxiety.
I would go so far to say that if you’re a *guy* who is resonating with Sheryl’s work – it’s your *duty* to the world to have kids!!
Your poem is beautiful, Joshua! 🙂
Thanks Maria, massively appreciated. Lots more on my blog and website
Darkness is never more powerful than light. In fact, darkness is light that has forgotten that it is light. Eventually, darkness wears out, and the light lovingly awaits its return. Right now, darkness is wearing itself out – but, as Sherly noted, the dawn is coming.
You are not alone, Joshua. We are all here with you, supporting you, loving you. Your light is very, very powerful! Love is the most powerful force in the universe – the divine source of all creation. Darkness would love to keep you distracted and untrusting of your power because it knows what it is up against. Every time you choose to shine your light with your love and support of others – no matter how small or insignificant it may feel – it radiates throughout the universe – bringing the dawn closer. Sending love from my heart to yours!
Hi Sheryl,
This post means so much! I am certainly feeling the grief, but I’m also learning not to polarize for the first time in my life. During other crises, I’ve tried to anger, blame, righteousness, and hate. Now, I’ve been forced to confront that obviously didn’t work, and I must sit with the intense discomfort that maybe it’s not as black and white as I thought.
It is certainly not easy work! But in it I see myself becoming infinitely more compassionate towards myself and others, and moving towards a place of wanting true healing for ALL in our world (all humans, animals, plants, land formations, etc) instead of staying stuck in the idea of “winning” over someone else.
Does that make sense? It certainly does in my heart, though I find it hard to express that to many of my friends and family because they still exist in that state of protection and blame, which I totally get, though it can feel a bit isolating.
I am blessed with a wonderful partner whose exquisite differences has taught me so much of this, and who has been in the compassionate state for much of his life. And I find so much solace in your blog in understanding that in times of hurt , we move towards wholeness, not division!
Thank you for everything you do and the hope you bring ❤️
Yes, it makes perfect, beautiful sense! And this is exactly what I’m talking about: this groundswell of moving from polarization to unification where more and more or us are able to make room for those who think and see things differently than we do. I’m hearing and seeing this EVERYWHERE, and that’s part of what gives me hope that we’re moving in the right direction.
I felt this deeply the other day walking with our dog in the woods. But it is so easy to lose sight of right now! Thank you (as always) for the timely reminder. <3
It’s soooo easy to lose sight of, which is why our commitment to the practices/pathways that return us to that place are more essential than ever. xoxoxoxo
Thank you. Your words give me so much hope and comfort. I needed to read this so badly, and I am so grateful for you.This is my favourite corner of the internet. ❤️
I’m so glad, Meg. ❤️🙏🏽🥰
Thank you Sheryl. All strength to our practices as we hold space for and reiterate goodness which is currently eclipsed but will never be extinguished and which as you say, is rising even as we speak.
Yes, Cass. Yes. You can feel it, too.
As could Barbara Kingsolver back on 7th November last year (from her FB page). “Truth and love have been smacked down, so many more times in history before today. Truth, because it’s often inconvenient, and love because it is vulnerable.
But truth is like gravity, and carbon, and the sun behind an eclipse: it’s still there. And love stays alive if you tend it like a flame. If you feel crushed by unkindness today, it’s a time for grieving, reaching out to loved ones, noticing one bright color somewhere in the day. Remembering what there is to love. Starting with the immediate, the place and people we can tend ourselves, and make safe. We can’t save everything all at once, but it’s still worth saving something. Because there are so many of us to do it.
And we are all still here today, exactly as we were yesterday. Like gravity, and carbon, and the sun behind an eclipse.” Not to mention the wonderful Bishop Marianne Budde, who I think deserves a fan letter next!
Gorgeous. Truly stunning.
Thank you Sheryl for once again providing care and reassurance in such a difficult time – something you’re very good at! I’m deeply grateful for how you acknowledge the grief and heartache and fear, and at the same time point beyond it. Your words are such a gift for us highly sensitive souls!! It’s so good to be reminded that I am not alone. What is crumbling for me is a sense of safety (or a semblance of it, realizing of course that no one in this world is completely safe at all times!)…and knowing what I can trust from our government. What I hope is being strengthened is my sense of community, my grounding practices at home, and my commitment to bravery and integrity. I just made a “courage” playlist today on Apple Music, which felt like a hopeful direction in the midst of great loss. Thank you again for your helpful post.
Thank you for your beautiful comment, Amber. I think you’ve articulated what a lot of people are feeling right now in terms of the crumbling. Your practices are essential, and I’m so glad you’re moving toward them!
This is truly a dark and scary time. It is hard to watch so many sad events happening in the world. I recently completed your 1 month anxiety course. During the course I started incorporating a morning and evening prayer/contemplation/ gratitude practice. That has really helped me. I am reading positive emails, articles, etc in the mornings. And I have limited my exposure to the news. These things are helping me deal with this difficult time. The only thing we really can control is how we will react and respond. Your positive writings are very helpful!!
Big YES to this!
“The only thing we really can control is how we will react and respond.”
And that’s a lot. In fact, it’s everything.
Another insightful article post, Sheryl – thank you. Your work always feels like a warm hug to me and I’m so glad that my own dark night of the soul brought me to your work.
I’m not sure if it’s a crumbling or a realisation but I noticed this week at my sister-in-law’s gender reveal that I was flooded with grief. I was overjoyed finding out the gender and the excitement of being an aunt but I had this deep feeling of sadness that I couldn’t quite understand at the time (which only led to personal frustration). My brain typically led me to feeling and doubting if it had something to do with my relationship and the “rightness” of it all, the situation and the circumstance. But, it was a day later when I realised that I could be grieving ahead of time for when I am (hopefully) to become a mother myself. When I saw my mother-in-law’s excitement for her daughter, I just wanted to cry. It was beautiful yet it hurt knowing that I could never experience that. For context, I lost my Mum when I was 19, my absolute best friend. I never wanted children until I lost her and the thought and heartache of not having her around when I have my own children feels so hard – this almost feels like a pre-empted transition if that makes sense?
To answer your other questions – I am reclaiming my trust. Trusting that my mother will always be with me during these transitions, through myself but also through my child if I’m lucky enough to have my own. Practices I will return to is finding gratitude, especially with my partner’s children as well as meditation, journalling and overall taking care of myself like I would a best friend or perhaps my inner child who deeply misses her mum. Thanks again for your work Sheryl, you’ve helped me more than you’ll ever know x
This all makes sense, Rachel: and yes we can grieve ahead of a transition, especially one as big is becoming a mother without a mother. Your practices sound very beautiful and grounding. Thank you for sharing them here. ❤️
Thank you for your post.
I am in the midst of a very painful transition as my husband said he is done having children. We have two wonderful boys and I always dreamt of having a daughter, so I am beginning to grieve someone who was never born and the mother I always thought I would be (a mother of three, or even four children.) I am having to reshape the entire image of what I thought my future would look like, as dramatic as that might sound.
Seeing my husband’s self-trust in knowing what is right for him, no matter how much it hurts me, has shown me I too can reclaim my self-trust. I also see an opportunity to reclaim some independence now that I won’t be in the baby stage anymore.
I’m giving myself time and space to feel sad, without trying to put on a happy face to please everyone else around me. I have so much to be grateful for, so I’m starting by focusing on all that I have. There is also healing in letting go of control. I am working on letting go of the fact that I can’t control this very big decision. And finally I am drawing closer to my husband and refusing to let this affect our marriage.
Thank you for sharing your challenge here, Olivia. It sounds like you’re navigating it with grace: allowing yourself to grieve while also moving toward love and gratitude.
Just sending a virtual hug Olivia as I, too, am in this exact spot at the moment! Hubby completely (and literally – had the procedure and everything!!) done having children and I would really love one more, having always wanted a particular number of kids. There’s a grief there for sure! Something I’m trying to explore with it though, is whether there is something other than a baby that I might be feeling ready to ‘birth into the world’ as it were! Now we have a bit more independence and time/space, as you say, coming out of the intense baby phase; perhaps there is something else gestating… I’m about to start The Artist’s Way book as a way to explore that, in case of any interest to you also!
Thank you for the inspo to refuse to let it turn to resentment or distance in our marriage too. So helpful! x