Last November, a tree fell in my driveway, crushing three cars. Mine was totaled, my husband's car had its back window shattered, and a guest’s car was damaged. It wasn’t just the loss of the vehicle—it was the feeling that something had fractured deep inside me. Along with the recent election, I sensed a shift in my world, an unraveling of a sense of safety I had unconsciously relied on. I was no longer shielded from harm, no longer protected.
In my search for steadiness, I went to the old ash tree I pray with on my property. It’s a tall, leaning elder, and when I stand before it, pressing my forehead to its bark, I feel held in something ancient and wise. That day, I asked for guidance, for some way to make sense of what was happening. The tree’s message came clear:
We are all at risk now. Many of us will suffer. It is time to get your affairs in order.
I have kept this wisdom close. Not in fear, but in recognition. The world is shifting. The fractures are real. And yet, within them, we have choices.
News of Trump’s executive order rolling back protections for endangered species to allow more logging is another reminder of the deep unraveling we are living through. It would be easy to turn away, to become numb, to feel powerless in the face of so much destruction. But as Clare Dubois asks, “What will you focus on, the fractures or the light?”
The fractures are unavoidable. But so is the unifying field of love that permeates everything. Even as the world shatters, we can choose where we place our attention. We can tune into the deeper possibilities emerging, the dormant codes of a new world waiting to be awakened.
Thích Nhất Hạnh, witnessing the horrors of war in Vietnam, did not turn away. He taught Engaged Buddhism—staying present to suffering, yet responding with love and action. He showed that true change does not come from turning away or drowning in despair, but by standing fully awake in both the pain and the possibility.
For those feeling powerless: Breathe. Connect. Remember. Let your heartbreak widen your heart, not shut it down.
For those feeling rage: Channel it wisely. The world does not need more fragmentation, but a relentless, persistent, fierce love in action. Mobilize. Protect. Build. Hold one another steady as we move forward.
The tree was right—we are all at risk now. But we are also all capable of holding the light, of becoming beacons for each other. This is not a time to turn away. It is a time to turn toward, to gather, to strengthen our capacity to stay present and act with wisdom.
If you need support in finding steadiness through these times and building the skills to stay awake and engaged, I invite you to explore mindfulness practices. Mindfulness is not an escape but a way of standing in the storm with clarity and resilience—a way to stay rooted, even as the winds howl around us.