When political, economic, social, and environmental chaos swirls in the world around us, anxiety surges and our protective instinct is to “doom-scroll” or watch the news for hours, checking for the latest disaster.  Our nervous system gets hijacked, we feel vulnerable and ask ourselves “Am I OK?”, “What should I DO?”, and “What’s going to happen next?”  It’s hard to stay present—we’re either in the emotional past, or predicting a catastrophic future.

These turbulent times offer an opportunity to practice Presence, to notice when we become triggered and then patiently, continuously bring ourselves back to center:  to grounding in the body, to stillness, wisdom, and our peaceful center within.

When you look at the photo of the Pink-necked Green Pigeon and her two baby chicks tucked under her wings, what do you see?  The adult is completely focused, alert, still, balanced, and in her center.  There is a power that emanates from this protective mother bird.  She pulls her vulnerable young ones close to her body.  Do you sense anxiety or peacefulness in this trio of birds?

This is exactly what we are called to do during times of great change, no matter what form the change takes.  Allow the vulnerability, anxiety, fear, helplessness, anger, grief—any emotion that arises is welcome.  “Pull the emotional part in close” to your body, place a hand over your heart and belly, breathe slowly to a count of 5, reassure the scared parts of you that you (your wise, centered self) are right there, like a rock, no matter what is happening in the outside world.  Feel the innate peacefulness in your center, in your heart and belly.

This is the dance we are engaged in now, back and forth, to and fro, from triggered to peaceful, the old breaking down and revealing the new, unraveling and blossoming.  We are called to greater healing and consciousness on every level—personal, relational, social, political, cultural, environmental, technological.  And all change—negative or positive—causes anxiety because it pitches us over the cliff and into the unknown.  Our old ways of being don’t serve us anymore, and our heart and soul is demanding that we grow and evolve, personally and collectively.

These are both frightening and exciting times to be alive, as we reshape and transform ourselves into the new—healing old trauma and fear, becoming more loving and conscious, discovering our authentic power and purpose.

This is all OK!  It is human to get scared, triggered, terrified of the unknown, angry, overcome with grief.  Allow it all, love yourself, and in the words of poet Anne Sexton, “Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard”.

The river of life will carry you further along your sacred journey, and perhaps, even during tumultuous times, you will discover your birthright:  a wellspring of joy, self-compassion, and peacefulness that abides no matter what chaos is spiraling around you.

(The Pink-necked Green Pigeon photo was taken by Ric Seet)

Political, racial, border, gender, and religious “divides” are just a few of the types of division we are hearing about in the media these days.  We look to a political or spiritual leader to bring opposing factions together, to facilitate empathy and mutual understanding, but alas there is no one human being who can single-handedly stop the polarization that plagues us.

There is good news!  We can all play a role  in healing division, each in our own small way.  Each act of “healing the division” within ourselves and our circle of friends, family, and neighbors, positively contributes to the collective and the evolution of consciousness on the planet.

Recently I went to a busy restaurant with a friend.  The waiters were zipping back and forth; I leaned out from our table and said to a server “Could you take our order?”  They became angry and shouted “I’ll take your order when I wait on the people who got here before you!”  Whoa!  I got triggered and noticed the drive to get defensive.  I felt embarrassed, it was so public, and I thought they were wrong.  But I didn’t want to escalate the drama and found myself saying “Oh I’m so sorry, no pressure, I should have kept my big mouth shut, you’re amazing, you know what you’re doing!”

In that moment the server felt seen and understood; her defenses melted.  Her face lit up like a shining star, a broad smile from ear to ear.  From that point forward, we were “good”—she happily took our order, was friendly and joking around with all her customers, and the energy of the entire place went from tense and “divisive” to cheerful and uplifted.

When we take a breath before defensively reacting, we have space to calm down, listen, have empathy, and more skillfully respond to a divisive situation—between ourselves and our spouse, child, parent, neighbor or coworker.  This is a healing gift!  As I say to my clients, never underestimate how important your own healing process is to the well-being of the planet and everyone around you.  Every positive shift in your own healing, reactivity, and self-awareness ripples outward.

There are many organizations healing divisive rifts in inspiring, extraordinary ways—between people who have been at war or diametrically opposed for generations!  Susan Polis Schutz’s documentary (seen on NEPM Passport) Healing Divides, features six different communities from around the world, each of them finding creative ways to come together, heal, and learn from each other.  I highly recommend this film for “filling your tank” with uplifting, hopeful news.

As author and spiritual teacher Eckhart Tolle reminds us, “It is inner stillness that will save and transform the world.”  One challenging interaction at a time, with practice, we  become more calm and empathic, more loving and less reactive.

In the words of Mohandas Ghandi,

“We but mirror the world. All the tendencies present in the outer world are to be found in the world of our body. If we could change ourselves, the tendencies in the world would also change. As a man changes his own nature, so does the attitude of the world change towards him. This is the divine mystery supreme. A wonderful thing it is and the source of our happiness. We need not wait to see what others do.”

We are increasingly bombarded by news of devastating “weather events”; our hearts break for the people, animals, and forests that die or are displaced from their homes due to hurricanes, fires, and floods.  We feel overwhelmed and helpless to be of any use other than to send donations toward relief efforts.  How do we cope with the fact that as one client recently put it, “It seems like the whole world is on fire!”

We can first be kind, gentle with ourselves and allow the shock, grief, or despair that arises.  We may even experience vicarious traumatization as we helplessly stand by, our senses flooded with relentless media disaster imagery.  Watching the trauma drama unfold can be addictive—give yourself (and your nervous system!) a break and ease up on the “bad news.”

Trauma healing requires a “horizontal” and a “vertical” approach.  Reaching out to friends, family, a therapist, or a spiritual community for support is a horizontal form of “external regulation” that calms the nervous system and helps us feel connected, safe, and secure.

Internal regulation—like meditation, mindful breathing, journaling, a hand over the heart and belly, a warm bath, a walk outside in nature—are forms of “vertical” (inner, self-generated) healing that lower polyvagal fight/flight system arousal and increase calming, grounding, and a sense of safety in the here and now.

Spring Forest Qigong Master Chunyi Lin recommends that when these sad, painful world crises occur, we avoid descending into fear and instead send the energy of love to the disaster site.  Everything is energy; quantum physics has confirmed this.  Energy follows thought:  what we focus on we intensify.  It will be more helpful to send the higher energies of light, love, and spirit to these areas than to send the energy of fear.

It’s also OK to cry, to grieve the enormous losses involved including that of human and animal life, trees, hillsides, roads, homes, shoreline, whole towns wiped out in a flash!  Our tears of compassion open the heart, heal the soul, and help us see that we indeed are all one.

All is not lost!  There are wonderful podcasts and shows outside of mainstream media that focus on innovative initiatives for restoring nature, human rights, and vibrant community after seemingly irreversible destruction—like The Age of Nature on PBS, a series that focuses on how a new awareness of nature is helping to restore desecrated ecosystems once thought lost.

Give yourself the gift of focusing on what’s going well, not just “what’s wrong”.  When we care for ourselves during these turbulent times, our tank is full and we have more energy and capacity to serve others.

You might wonder if I’ve gone off my rocker.  Rubber duckies can help you heal?  Yes they certainly can!  Many clients will attest that this form of trauma therapy can be beneficial for easing PTSD symptoms, healing the child within,  and increasing self awareness of emotional states of being.

OK how the heck is this possible you’re asking.  It’s simple:  it’s all about “Parts Work”.  In my trauma healing therapy practice one of the modalities I incorporate is the use of  rubber ducks to represent, or “externalize”, the various PTSD/traumatized emotional parts or aspects of our personality.  For example, rather than only talking “about” overwhelming anxiety, we can speak directly to the anxious part to better understand why it’s triggered and what it needs to feel safe and calm.

This  allows us to clearly see, hear and understand “outcast” parts (like fear, grief, and shame), which parts are in conflict with each other (like the “nice girl” part in a tug of war with the protective “fight” part), and which parts helped us to survive.

The 2015 Pixar hit film Inside Out did a wonderful job depicting internal emotional parts.  Many of us could relate to Riley, the 11 year old animated character in the film, and the emotional parts swirling and competing for attention in her mind.  And what were the major lessons of this movie?  That all inner parts must be honored, each has an important role and function, and they need to work with each other as a team rather than against each other.

So why rubber ducks and how does this work?

—Duckies are cute and non-threatening; they add humor and a light touch to the hard work of trauma healing.

—Many people have a traumatized, “parentified child” inside who was so busy caretaking the wounded adults in the family they had no time to play—the rubber ducks give that inner child a sense of safety, fun, and freedom to play.

—PTSD triggers can hijack us with overwhelming fear, anger, and shame.  Externalizing these Fight/Flight parts with the ducks gives us emotional space to slow down and witness these old trauma emotions from a distance, rather than becoming them or defensively acting them out.

Right before our eyes we can watch the healing and repair of early attachment wounding.  Through a form of gestalt role play with the ducks, the wise Adult self can finally see and hear the wounded child’s emotions and triggers, develop an internal relationship with her, and have empathy and compassion for her pain.  This in turn calms the nervous system, PTSD symptoms abate, and the inner child feels more safe, secure, and protected.  The wise Adult self can now function and show up in the world with more ease, happiness, empowerment, and authenticity.

It’s truly remarkable.

Slowly but surely, one mindful exploration of the emotional parts after another, early traumatic attachment is transformed into a sheltering, comforting cloth of inner secure attachment.

This is a meaningful, wonderful gift for the mind, heart and soul.  A sense of wholeness and inner security arises.  If Sensorimotor psychotherapy, EMDR, the Flash Technique, and Parts Work—with or without the rubber ducks—resonates with you, I invite you to expand your notion of what might be possible in your healing process, and take the leap.

The new year is often launched with joy, exuberance, and fresh resolutions.  We’re inspired to become a “new and improved” version of ourselves. Yet the rhythms of nature, and winter itself, teach us that winter is also a time of rest, stillness, and reflection.  This piece by an unknown author invites us to light a candle and reflect upon the many threads of life we have woven together in the previous year.

Warp and Weft: Spinning Strength from Winter’s Shadows

The eighth day of Yule belongs to the loom—the place where strength is woven from what seems fragile, frayed, or broken. Winter is not just a season of stillness; it is a master weaver, pulling threads from the frostbitten earth, from the roots gripping frozen soil, from the branches that do not shatter under snow but bend and bow, enduring.

Strength is not born in a blaze of glory. It is spun quietly, in the dark corners of hardship, in the deliberate movements of hands pulling thread through tension. It’s the weft that holds the warp together, the connective tissue that turns the disparate strands into something whole. On this day, we honor the weavers of strength, the ones who create when there seems to be nothing left, the ones who understand that resilience is not a single act of defiance but a long, patient process of repair.

In the old stories, the loom was a sacred tool, a portal between worlds. The Norns wove the fates of gods and mortals alike, their hands moving into time with the pulse of life and death. Skadi, goddess of winter and the wild, embodies this weaving of strength from starkness. She stalks the snow-covered mountains, carving her path in ice, spinning survival from the sharp edges of the earth.

Today, the loom is also yours. Think of the threads you’ve carried through this year—some vibrant, some worn thin, some tangled beyond recognition. Strength is not in discarding them but in weaving them together. Take what the year has given you, even its broken strands, and find the pattern within the chaos.

This is a day to light candles for the unseen weavers—your ancestors, whose strength you carry in your bones; the earth, whose roots weave life beneath the frost; the wild ones who taught us that strength is not in domination but in adaptation. Offer your gratitude. Whisper your blessings. Watch as the light flickers, illuminating the threads you might have missed.

And don’t forget: no loom is solitary. Strength is shared. It is spun between neighbors, braided between friends, threaded through acts of care. It is the quilt you wrap around a loved one, the meal you share, the kind word offered when the world feels barren. Today, give something of yourself to the weaving of others.

The loom of winter teaches us that strength is not a straight line but a web, a network of resilience. On this eighth day of Yule, take your place at the loom. Add your thread. Spin strength from the shadows. What you weave now will carry you forward, through the dark, and into the light.

(with gratitude to the unknown author)