Beloveds,

After a turbulent and exhausting election season, I know that many in our communities feel a deep sense of apprehension, anger, and uncertainty. This moment raises important questions about the future of our country, the safety of those targeted for oppression because of their identities, and the resilience of our collective democracy. We find ourselves pulled both outward, to the actions we hope will make a difference, and inward, toward the relationships of communal care from which such actions must arise. 

Dear Ones,

It’s been a long few months, and now, an outcome to the election that many of us have feared. I’ve heard justice leaders and election workers flagging this week, energies depleted. I’ve heard friends who are strong in compassion and care, feeling disheartened.

At my house, there’s a blackberry hedge along the edge of the yard. At least, that’s where I try to keep it. Those of you who live with blackberries know that this plant will colonize whatever open space you have, if you let it. Living with blackberries is an exercise in maintaining boundaries–clipping a lot, but not all of the new branches–so that there will be sweet berries in August.