We’re in this together

Fear and worry can constrict us, prompting us to hold our energy protectively when we sense danger. These feelings can separate us, making us feel alone—even when many others share our concerns. We become smaller versions of ourselves, tightly wound and self-protective.

While fear, worry, and anxiety are very human emotions, and they can serve a purpose, there is so much collective anxiety right now that I think it’s worth asking: Is what I’m feeling expanding me and connecting me to life, or is it leaving me feeling separate—as if the weight of the world rests solely on my shoulders?

A Personal Example

This week, my main focus was preparing for a workshop I was hosting in Port Townsend. Soon enough, though, I slipped into “default mode,” worrying about doing it “right.” My mind began to spin with all the extra things I might need to do.

Fortunately, I was introducing the participants to Lyndsey Scott’s beautiful chant, “The Way Knows.”

You don’t have to know the way
the way knows the way
You don’t have to plan the way
Trust the way, feel your way
The way knows
The way knows
The way knows the way.

As I sang along, I realized I was not practicing what I planned to teach. The irony was obvious! I wanted to share the joy of an artful path with others, demonstrating how creativity can connect us to life and lift us. Yet I’d fallen into old patterns, feeling alone, as if I alone bore the responsibility for the workshop’s success.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=688YaaEePwE

As I continued singing, I felt a shift.It became clear that I needed to take personal responsibility for the work and recognize that I was operating within a community—a network of people, support, and ideas. Both aspects (they are a polarity) matter. Yet, my anxiety revealed that I wasn’t fully embracing the supportive connections around me.

To ease the feelings of isolation that worry had triggered, I took stock of the many ways others had blessed and supported my workshop preparations. My dedicated peer coaches endorsed and advised me on my plans. The wonderful women who attended my prototype group this summer gave me valuable feedback. My husband’s steady support, and the Northwind Arts staff, who were so helpful—all helped me realize I wasn’t doing this alone.

Thinking back further, I remembered authors whose works on creativity deeply inspired me. I thought about my friend, Dana Lynne Anderson, who taught me about Transformative Arts during our time together in Assisi. And, of course, I thought about my own Muses.

I was not alone; my work existed within an ecosystem of connection and support.

As I remembered this truth, my breathing slowed.

The spirit of support

At first, I focused on the direct human support surrounding me. But as I continued, I felt the subtle support that often accompanies work done in service to others. When I align with what I’m called to do, there’s often a sense of being carried along. In the studio, classroom, or at the computer, this support feels like energy, guidance, intuition, the Muse—or simply knowing that if I keep going, things will work out.

The way knows the way. Our job is to listen.

How it all turned out

Of course, in any workshop, the participants are central. It’s in connecting with them that true magic happens. I was blessed by a delightful group of learners and seekers, and, together, we created the experience.

And in their presence, I felt uplifted and carried. We had a great day.

A reflective question 

Dear friends, as we move through the coming weeks, please take care of yourselves and ask,

“Are my thoughts and worries leaving me feeling constricted and separate, or are they enhancing my connection to the flow of life?”

We have choices. Now is not the time to let fear and worry constrict or divide us. We’re in this together.

The way knows the way, even when the path is not clear.