Hello friends of Wilderness Well.

This work we're collectively doing together -- of introspection, untangling, naming, reflecting, reforming, and creating -- is beautiful, meaningful, and obviously worth doing. It can also cause incredible fatigue at times. Being awake and present in this world, in your body, and in your mind at all times can be strenuous -- even for the most dexterous empaths among us. Seasons of growth and revelation often also bring moments of shadow or valley -- moments of mountaintop euphoria followed by recognitions about ourselves that are less than flattering. 

I was reminded of this while listening to one of my favorite Patty Griffin songs recently -- "Forgiveness." I had been feeling more mountaintop-esque moments for a spell, and then totally fell into old patterns of detachment.

We are calling for help tonight on a thin phone line, 

As usual we’re having ourselves one hell of a time. 

If you’re anything like me, you can very easily lean into what I like to call “melodramatic romanticism.” Pipe in your favorite sad girl music (Patty for me), a little rain, and you’ve got a recipe for depression-flavored tea time. Staring pensively out the window, hot beverage in hand, musing about life and the meaning of it all. (It’s giving Nicole Kidman in Big Little Lies vibes.) 

Add in the horrifying news of the day (as discussed in our last newsletter - of how to stay engaged, but not lose heart) - and it can oftentimes be too much. What is the remedy? What can help gently nudge me in a better direction…to keep going and pursuing the work of being transformed into what is new and true?

Despite my melancholy tendencies, I surprise myself by being an optimist. For some reason, I still think hope is worth hanging onto. I don’t know how or why, but I do believe that we can tap into something greater and more loving. This is easier said than done, but even when down in the dumps, there is something magic in the mere thought of something better.

You all help me believe in building that “something better” by simply being in this community. To quote Patty again, the final lines of the song muse: 

It's hard to give

It's hard to get

It's hard to live, 

still I think it's the best bet.

May we encourage each other with the simple thought that to hope is not in vain. Holding it all together - the highs, lows, bliss, and the really hard - with you. We are better together, even if some of us still like to cosplay Nicole Kidman films.