Hello to you listening in Round Lake, Curtis, Michigan!Coming to you from Whidbey Island, Washington this is Stories From Women Who Walk with 60 Seconds for Motivate Your Monday and your host, Diane Wyzga.Things in this country are upside down and backward in ways we have never ever seen before. Is that good? No! It’s a nightmare. What do we do now? I’m glad you asked.First off, you can rely on me to be here with you and for you. Thanks to your devoted listening this global podcast is edging close to 200,000 plays. There will be stories and more to inform, delight, inspire, and motivate in the days ahead.As to, “What do we do now?” get comfy and relish Colorado Poet Laureat Andrea Gibson’s Letter to a Friend. Click HEREor read the letter in the Episode NotesPractical Tip: Pay particular attention to how grief and fear can give way to relief, clarity, what needs doing, and how to go about it. Ask yourself: “What is my job in this moment? What do I specifically have to offer? Where can I be of most use and service to others? How can I creatively, actively participate in pulling the arc of the moral universe toward justice for all?A tight bundle of sticks cannot be broken as easily as a single branch. We are in this together. Our lives are in our hands. More than ever before this is our opportunity to cherish life and work for it! Colorado Poet Laureate Andrea Gibson’s Letter To A Friend After the ElectionBy Andrea GibsonNovember 16, 2024Architects of ChangeFriend,I am writing about the text you sent the morning after the election. “What do we do now?” you asked. My first response was to stare blankly at a blank wall for an hour. But I’ve had a week to sit with it, and here’s what I want to share:Last April, after two years of chemotherapy, when my oncologist told me the cancer was now considered incurable, I felt the expected fear and grief. But something I didn’t tell you was this—I also felt relief. Why relief? Because when I heard the system say, “We can’t save you,” it was the first time since my diagnosis that I felt as if my life was in my hands. Watching the election, I felt something similar: grief, fear. Then this thought—Our lives are in our hands. They always were, but it’s clearer than ever now.I think I’ve told you about my friend Liza. She was one of the most committed activists I’ve ever known. She built her life like an altar to social justice. She was also a Buddhist. A couple of weeks before her death, when asked how she wanted to be remembered, she said, “Just don’t let anyone say I was the best at anything. It’s so obnoxiously American.” As we look for creative paths forward, I want to beg “the left” to stop tearing each other to shreds over who is The Best at fighting for change. When we allow our egos to do our heart’s work, what needs to get done doesn’t get done. I understand that people are frantic for a clear and direct answer. But it’s so important to choose curiosity over certainty in a moment that asks us to create something entirely new. This is that moment.I keep asking myself, “What is my job in this moment? What do I specifically have to offer?” It’s empowering to ask those questions because no one’s job will be the same. There were many years of my life that I did not feel I was actively participating in change unless I was in the streets protesting. As my health worsened, I knew that wasn’t where I would be of most service. Creatively explore where you might be most useful. Throw a What’s My Job party and explore the question with your community. Friends may reflect a specific talent or gift they see in you that you haven’t yet recognized.My friend Oak, (great name, I know) used to say, “If we can’t imagine it, we can’t create it.” Right now I’m putting active energy into imagining what’s possible. What does a compassionate world look like? What would it feel like to wake up every morning to a planet fueled by community and not capitalism? When I’m glued to my phone doom-scrolling the news, it’s almost impossible for me to creatively imagine, but anytime I’ve got my feet in the grass I open in a new way. Even in a city, you can notice the way your body changes with the seasons. You can mirror the earth’s steady and persistent pace. Save the seeds of an apple. Grow veggies in plant pots in the windowsill of your apartment. Feed a stranger. Drive a neighbor through the sunshine to a doctor’s appointment in another state. Never forget how alone we are not. The moss, the mountains, the redwood tree, the marigold, the mourning dove calling for her love’s return—are our allies. Every natural thing in this world is invested in the peace of this world. All that is good and gracious whispers, “We are with you.”I keep thinking about something I learned in my early 20’s—the rural poor are more likely to survive a catastrophic world event than the wealthiest ...
