In the middle way there is no reference point. ~Pema Chodron, When Things Fall Apart

This is the time to sit with the anxiety, the ambiguity and the unknowability of our lives. This is the time to go down deep in to the deepest recesses of who we are, to find resources and riches we didn’t know were there. ~ Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg

I am not sure how it was for all of you, but in my corner of the world everyone seemed to struggle this week. Major catastrophes didn’t seem to be the issue, but nearly everything that could be difficult was difficult. And, the wins of the week didn’t quite seem proportional to the challenges. Still there were wins.

Wednesday, I took the day off to attend to some appointments. After the last appointment of the day, I stopped by HomeGoods, where I found the coupe glasses I have been wanting for years. They aren’t exactly the same as the one in which the Cuban restaurant in Durham served me an amazing daiquiri in, but they are beautiful kin; and, now, four of them are mine.

A small win to be sure, but since I have been talking about/low-key looking for these for years, to finally find them for $20 is absolutely worth celebrating.

The middle place, the wilderness, the transition without certainty or reference points surrounds us all collectively right now. As our different wisdom traditions tell us, this is a difficult time. It’s hard to keep moving forward, to maintain hope, to maintain energy and engagement, when there’s no promise that things won’t get harder before they get better. Our own personal transitions and wilderness compound the difficulty of this moment. Whether it’s the changes of aging, the ending of a relationship, the work of a long-term relationship, a huge move, healing ourselves from past traumas and wounds, navigating career and work place changes, or some combination of all these things and more, we are all already unmoored in so many ways.

I wish I had some remedy to share, but – frankly – even saying something about focusing on our small wins feels anemic. Our personal struggles and our collective struggles are real. For me, the defining feature of this moment in time, is that there’s no more hiding; it’s impossible to look away, to numb the discomfort of being in this space. In the past, when things become uncertain collectively, I could focus personally to find firmer ground; or, when things were uncertain personally, I could shift my focus externally, collectively and find a reference point, a way to move forward. Right now, those old comforts are out of reach; yet, I (we) have to keep going.

Y’all know I have been through a few transitions, and that I think, and write, about this stuff more than the average bear. The transition period and the wilderness are productive and comforting metaphors for me, because they help me accept the difficulty of whatever I’m experiencing. Of course everything feels hard! Everything is hard in the wilderness. Everything is also possible in the wilderness. Accepting the difficulty and the discomfort it brings is always the first step for me, the first movement forward.

If everything is hard now, if you are without reference points collectively, personally, or both, please remember that this discomfort is normal. It’s okay to feel the sadness, the disappointment, the betrayal, the fear, the uncertainty, the ennui. It’s okay when the small inconvenience feels overwhelming and pushes you to tears or anger. It’s okay to feel lost and to question what brought you to this place. Be kind to yourself and let yourself feel and regulate those emotions, so that you don’t unintentionally unleash them on those around you.

The next step, the step towards healing, towards a new place will come when you are ready. Maybe it will be in community, in finding a collective. Maybe it will be in self-care and gratitude. Maybe it will be in stillness and meditation. Likely, it will be in come combination of all of these. It will come; don’t rush it.

For me this week, I’m still working through my big reactions and feelings to small inconveniences. And I’m drinking all my water and anything that looks pretty from my new coupe glasses. Sure, I have to get up often for refills, but I also smile a little whenever I pick up my glass. I am reading the women whose perspective and wisdom I’ve always found helpful, like Dr. Tressie McMillan-Cottom, Dr. Brene Brown, Dr. Roxanne Gay, etc. I’m turning to the traditions that have supported me in the past, re-reading Pema Chodron, reinstating my morning rituals, and delving into the On Being podcast and its rich library. As my dear friend Dr. Phoenix wisely says, “that’s not nothing.” Several small things this week also reminded me of wisdom from Octavia Butler:

All that you touch
You Change.
All that you Change
Changes you.
The only lasting truth
Is Change.

We all touch so much more than we imagine. Change will come.