Dayton Wellness Collective

Navigating Political Class IV Currents

I’ve been consuming a steady stream of news lately, reminiscent of the early pandemic days when the outcome of our world wide predicament was completely up in the air. I, like many of my fellow stressed out Americans, am viscerally cognizant of what is actively at stake with this current administration (like our democracy as we once knew it). In the first few weeks of the presidency, many well meaning influencers warned us not to doom scroll- or to actively seek out distressing news headlines at the behest of a pavlovian dopamine rush. They reminded us of the negative effects of doing so, including depression, anxiety, irritability, fatigue, and an overstimulated amygdala (thereby overriding our logical prefrontal cortex). At that time, I felt that not staying informed was akin to not caring, but I was receptive to the advice nonetheless. It made sense; after all, the more dysregulated our nervous system, the less effective we are to create the change we hope to see in our world. But as the trajectory of our country over two and a half very short months has progressed at breakneck speed down a backward course, constant news consumption feels less like sharing the collective witness of this brutally antiquated paradigm shift and more like prudent reconnaissance for how/what I need to prepare for my family’s future.

While at first, headlines informing us of sweeping and destructive governmental changes  were met with an inexcusable amount of silence, there now seems to be some resistance mixed in. Headlines have begun to share relieving news – that congress is taking baby steps to push back. That the people are slowly waking from their slumber. That the political divisiveness that morphed into political chaos is the spark we needed to light a fire in the hearts of the once-complacent folk. The hearts of those who possess the privilege to not have to watch and/or live the news. Of those whose worlds are insulated from the injustices of America. Who are relatively protected from the newest shit storm that is descending upon us.

And yet, a society that is ready to call for collective change needs to be a society that is committed to be in it for the long haul. How is this accomplished? Organization first and foremost. Paired with transparent and heartfelt messaging, resilience and ingenuity, bridge building with our fellow citizens. And, as we have heard from those addressing a nation that is on the brink of a mental breakdown, we still need to make space in our day to unplug and experience life. To experience joy. As Heather Cox Richardson noted, “authoritarians cannot rise if there are strong communities and people are acting with joy. That is, you need despair and anger in order for an authoritarian to rise.” Joy. Nervous system regulation. Rest. The balm required to optimize ourselves. Yet,  while I am an enormous proponent of practicing grounding exercises to guide us through our day and connect to our inner human, I still struggle with this piece of advice. The very fact that I have the option to set aside time to practice grounding/experience life/joy/rest is dripping in privilege, one not afforded to a large swath of the American people. And so the question lurks in my chest constantly – how can I use this privilege to help make the world a better place? 

Raindances

I recently heard Michael Norton interviewed on a podcast, promoting his new book The Ritual Effect. Describing his research, he mentioned the ritual of the raindance. He explained that rain dances were performed all over the world in tribes and villages, none of whom had any contact with each other. The idea of a rain dance was intrinsic, organic, and sprang up independently of one another.  During times of drought, members of the tribe or village would come together and perform their raindance ritual. The intriguing part of this practice, however, was this: during these times of famine, and when times were getting rough, people chose community. Whereas in today’s age many of us stockpile and hoard for ourselves (think bare shelves at supermarkets during COVID), our ancestors of yesteryear had instead chosen each other. They knew that this ritual would bring them together. To remind them of what was truly important. Strength through community.

Our first Resista meeting echoed the sentiments mentioned earlier – the importance of staying grounded so as to be able to sustain for the long haul. In one of our group discussions we explored fear. More specifically, what fear does to us physiologically (a long list of the physical effects of chronic/sustained fear and stress response) and how we can let fear move through us so as to recenter, regroup, and resist. We discussed a well documented response to fear, the fight or flight response, that  is the result of a flood of adrenaline, cortisol, and epinephrine dumped into our bloodstream. But another response has been studied, thanks in part to the research of American Psychologist Shelley Taylor. She argues that along with the stress response comes oxytocin – a hormone that, among many other things, promotes affiliative behavior including maternal tending and social contact with peers. And so it seems that perhaps we are chemically wired to come together in times of intense stress. That our very physiology requires it.

And so a question arises – what would the modern day raindance look like in America? What rituals and community driven events can allow us to come together, to lean on each other in these times, to inspire each other to rise up to meet this current challenge? Peaceful protests are an important one; standing shoulder to shoulder with other constituents who are equally motivated to show up for change feels invigorating. And perhaps the flurry of grassroot initiatives that are popping up over the past few years that advocate for the vulnerable. And even just coming together and checking in with our family and friends during these times can be incredibly necessary for our emotional wellbeing.

The Community Balm

For the DWC, one of our core missions is to create community through our content and events. In an age where there is more social flexibility to choose our community, we want to be a grounding, welcoming, Earth-inspired choice. One that promotes connection not just with our minds, our bodies, and our hearts but also with our Earth, the seasons, and each other. To be a heart balm for each other.  A place where we leave feeling more revitalized than when we came in. And one that feels morally and ethically compelled to speak up even when it feels uncomfortable. Once again, Heather Cox Richardson:

“It’s ok to say ‘I’m not going to pay attention to politics for a while’. But it’s not ok to stop bringing your best to the world. Whatever those things are that you bring to the community, do them and do them with joy. And don’t stop doing the things you love because you’re scared because that actually is a form of resistance.”  

And so the question remains – how should I use this privilege to create the change I hope to see in the world? To show up and be present- even when I feel disheartened or scared so as to honor those who are unable to? To learn, educate others, and hold space for those whose lives have been upended? To provide a network that feels supportive and emotionally nourishing? Is this even close to doing enough? My breaking heart hopes so. That is to say, perhaps providing a well of strength and inspiration where we can all replenish our spirit prior to getting back to whatever form of activism we practice is how I (and the other presenters/practitioners in the Dayton Wellness Collective) show up for our community.

That perhaps ‘“this isn’t the darkness of a tomb, but rather the darkness of a womb.”

-Valarie Kaur

Valarie Kaur, civil rights activist, once proclaimed in a keynote speech back in 2019 that we need more than just resistance at this moment in time in our country- we need to birth a new America. That perhaps ‘“this isn’t the darkness of a tomb, but rather the darkness of a womb.” As anyone who has gone through the birth process can affirm – it’s painful, scary, and much better with the help and support of others. If we are to birth a new America, we need to create a local framework of deep spiritual and emotional support. Because as my dear friend said to me last week, the only way [to the other side of all of this] is through. And if any of this resonates with you, I’d be honored to walk through this together. 

-Carolyn

(Thoughtfully Edited by Jayne <3)