01/25/2026
PRECIPICE
I don’t have answers, just my body bracing against a tide of cruelty that refuses to go back underground.
And what I want to say out loud is that if you feel bewildered, heavy, sick with the cruelty of this moment, you’re not alone.
Maybe the ache in our collective chest is a bell, ringing out the truth about the edge we’ve reached.
This is not just a political crisis or a cultural one. This is a soul crisis…the kind that reveals whether we are willing to become something truer or collapse into something crueler.
I’ve lived through collapse before. Not like this, but enough to know the shape. The peeling away, the disorientation, the bargaining, the sharp grief of realizing what cannot be restored because it was never whole to begin with.
As much as I want to bottle the harm, the vileness, the indecency, and shelve it out of reach, I know better. It’s woven into our systems. Etched into our habits. Carried in the stories we keep telling.
So the only true way through is to turn toward it and feel the heat.
This is the practice now…to face what we made, to name what must be transformed, to admit that we have all had a hand in shaping this, and that all of us together have a part to play in changing it.
If you’re still standing at a distance denying, avoiding, or allying with the strongman because fear tells you it’s safer, I understand. Fear is loud. But this force isn’t true strength. It’s pain, dressed in the costume of power. A bully with a microphone. And it’s not just coming for “them.” It’s coming for all of us. So I’ll keep naming it, not because I have the whole truth, but because I carry a piece of it, and because my humanity is bound up in yours.
We don’t get to look away. We get to look each other in the eye and decide…Will we let this fire forge us, or consume us?
Megan