“You cannot heal what you do not first acknowledge.” ~ Richard Rohr

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It feels as if we’re at a sacred crossroads and the earth is holding its breath waiting to see which way we’ll turn.

I don’t see democracy versus fascism as a left-or-right political issue. I see it as an issue of the soul.

Every day, I feel an ache that reaches beyond all the news headlines and policy changes into something deeper and more sacred. My grief feels ancestral. Collective. Like we’ve been here before.

It’s my soul’s quiet knowing that what we’re losing isn’t only freedom. It’s connection. Respect. Kindness. Love.

As I reflect, listen to the messages held in my nightmares as well as in my dreams, and practice what I call “soul-listening,” I am beginning to understand that what we’re facing isn’t about politics or power.

It’s about the parts of ourselves and our society that we’ve ignored—the undercurrent of dark shadows that have hovered underneath democratic ideals.

I wonder if fascism rises to the surface because we have forgotten our shared humanity:

>> Does it grow in our silence, shame, and pain?

>> Does it grow when we feel invisible, unworthy, and unloved?

>> Does it grow when fear and ego successfully masquerade as strength and control?

>> Does it grow when we lose the power of critical thinking?

>> Does it grow when we forget that history repeats itself?

>> Does it grow when we become passive, exhausted, and emotionally numb?

Our nation’s collective shadow is now visible through cruelty disguised as strength and control disguised as leadership, and like every crisis of the soul, the shadow is calling us to remember who we are and who we want to become.

We can’t heal what we don’t name, transform what we refuse to face, or transcend this moment if we’re pretending that we’re not hurting.

We are in the middle of individual and collective spiritual tests, and of course, despite our trembling democracy, I am always on the side of hope, peace, and love.

>> I believe in the light that lives inside us.

>> I believe in the quiet work of healing.

>> I believe in the ones who cry and still love.

>> I believe in the ones who hurt but don’t harden.

>> I believe that we have the power to listen and to compassionately understand each other’s point of view, hear the hurt inner child within each of us, and shift the shadow momentum toward the victory of love.

Let’s name the ache inside our collective hearts and return to what never left us:

Democracy, like the soul, isn’t dead. It may be wounded and weary, but it is also calling us to walk with it and to be its caring companion.

Let’s recognize and heal the shadows within us and still choose the light of hope. This is spiritual activism and sacred resistance at its best.

>> Every time we meet fear with love, we mend something in the collective energy field.

>> Every time we speak up with compassion, we send ripples of high vibrations outward.

>> Every time we choose empathy over apathy, we keep the sacred flame of freedom alive.

If your spirit is tired, you’re not alone. I’m walking beside you, candle in hand. I believe in the power of “We the People” not only as a global citizen, but as a soul being.

You know how it feels when someone you love dies and you wish that you would have cherished them more? You pray for just one more chance.

That’s how it feels with freedom and democracy. We didn’t know what we had until we began to lose it.

Democracy isn’t perfect, but it carries the dream of “liberty and justice for all.” It’s worth protecting and breathing it back to life.  Let’s become the medicine the world forgot it needed. Let’s speak up, show up, and rise in whatever ways we can.

The shadow may be rising, but so is our light.

If my words stirred something inside you, don’t let the feeling pass unnoticed. I’d love to hear from you. Pause, breathe, and reflect, and then ask yourself:

What is one small way that I can help keep the light of democracy alive today?

Maybe it’s networking with like-minded people.

Listening with an open heart to someone with whom you don’t agree.

Joining a peaceful protest.

Engaging in a heartfelt conversation with a stranger.

Contacting your representatives.

Living with the Golden Rule.

Staying fully present and awake in a world that wants you numb.

No act of soulful resistance is too small. Together, let’s keep walking with hearts open and candles lit.

 “My Dream for Peace” —A Poem by Cheryl Melody Baskin

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