I did not sleep well last night. There is a heaviness in the air, and I can feel my mind trying to move through it.

It wants to do the right thing. It wants to do the helpful thing. It wants to be assured that it's good and of service.

This is a place I know well. I call it the spinning place. Round and round I go trying to undo what cannot be undone. The more heartbreaking the events that have occurred, the more destabilized I feel.

Given the difficulty that we have been living through for so many years, I imagine many of us are aware of this place. Maybe for you it's not spinning. It could be the numb place, the angry place, the disassociated place, the scared place. We go there because it gives us something to do, (or not do), as we do our best to process harm beyond our imagination.

Our minds give us a job because if we were to still ourselves enough to sense what was happening in our body we would feel that right there in our chest, in the shallowness of our breath, in the tension across our shoulders, the ache in our gut, is a well of grief -- a well that is deep and wide and impossibly intimidating to confront on our own.

I don't believe we are made to face that well alone. The kind of grief that arises from immense tragedy can only be metabolized by many bodies. Relating to ourselves with compassion as our minds do as they are designed to do supports our ability to slow down enough to feel for and take care of our bodies. What we are feeling requires the holding of community.

Community is not just people, it is all nutritive relationships in our life.

I'm particularly relying on this expansive definition as the pandemic continues.

Community is the tree we visit and talk to, the ravens we watch with wonder as they swoop and dive, the bees who diligently bumble, the cat who stalks in the backyard, the pet who warms our lap, the trails we walk, the words of long-deceased mystics, the whisperings of our ancestors and so much more.

The human animal requires what is beyond human to help us process what is more than our bodies can hold.

Now, is the time to go to these places, to call on these beings. Let yourself lean. Let them hold you.