01/25/2026
Yesterday happened. After this week, this year. Shock can feel like numbness, and it can feel like rage. It can feel like everything and nothing at once. Even shocks that you’re not surprised have landed.
I wanted to weep. I wanted to call everyone I love at once. I wanted to stop what was already happening. I wanted to get out on our land, I wanted to scream. I wanted to stand between the gargantuan forces at work and the people they grind under.
Have you ever wanted that? To stop what is in progress, unfolding, but already more than you think you can bear?
If you quit practicing because it feels rote, you may find it harder to reach the joy. If you quit practicing because it seems there are bigger, more important things to do, it’s easy to get lost in the bigness. I did that, too.
When it feels automatic, even a little bit flat — that’s when I need it the most.
Can you relate?
Sometimes I come back to my breath and feel nothing. That’s not because nothing’s there. There’s a barrier between me and the sensations, and the way to melt the barrier is to remain. Gently, if I can. Fiercely if I must.
Susanna Bartaki calls this nervous system liberation. The going term is "regulation," but that's not what it feels like to me. When I feel nothing or little, that feels constrained. When the barriers melt and sensation returns, I feel free.
If this resonates, come on over to YouTube.com/. You’ll find short, simple practices starting tomorrow to help you remain. Even when. Because we can’t stop the present moment. But we can bear witness. We can remain alive. We can practice liberating our own nervous systems. And when we’re with others, we are better able to remain alive and awake.
Witness matters. The Dude abides. Abiding isn’t simply existing: it’s remaining awake, connected enough to our own embodiment that we are contained and open at the same time. We see clearly and hold our centers. Some say this is love. History shows it changes everything.
If you’re looking for a place to support you returning to you, even when that feels hard — and when it is joy — you’re in the right place. From here, we can build.