Midnight

We must continue to gather.  

We must continue to practice and make time for what we value in our lives.

We must continue to meet each other.

We must continue to stand for one another.

We must continue to dream.

We must continue to show up, in the light.

We must continue to be bold.

We must continue to love.

We must continue to gather.

It is after midnight here in Colorado.

I promised myself I would sleep tonight, that I would turn off the computer and the phone, that I would stop watching the news, and that I would sleep.

But that is not what is happening.

I am wide awake and I am moving back and forth between my phone and my Facebook feed, between the NYTimes and FiveThirtyEight, and I cannot stop crying.

No matter how many deep breaths I take, or how many walks outside for a peek at the moon and the stars in the silence of this night up here on the hill, I cannot stop crying.

Except when I think about you.

When I think about you Joanna, and when I think about what I am going to say to you in the morning after this election, I stop crying and I start remembering that we are artists, you and I, and as artists we vision and we dream.

We break down the rules to find out what is underneath.

And we do that by gathering together to cry, to dance, to laugh, to share a meal, and to gaze at the moon.

We have no idea what will happen in the next few days or months.

We have no idea how things will unfold and play out.

We have no idea what is going to be called for as we meet what comes next.

So we must gather.

We must cast our spells.

We must continue to grow into ourselves and this world with presence, courage and love.

We must continue to stand with, and for each other with presence, courage and love.

We must meet whatever it is we are called to meet with presence, courage and love. Many of you have inquired and asked about the family emergency I mentioned a few weeks ago.

The update is that we are still in the throes of the emergency, though it has quieted a bit.

The actual “emergency” and the details of it are not mine to tell, so I won’t go into it here, but the results of this election have made it that much harder.

I am moving through it with less grace than I had hoped for, but I am still moving.

Thank you for your kind words and your well wishes.

I know that you too have been through a family emergency at some point, and that you may be going through a crisis yourself, right now, as you read this newsletter the day after the election.

You too are walking through the fire.

That in itself is the beginning of the gathering.

With love, in the early morning hours after the election. Joanna