Deep breath,

That’s a reminder to me, and to anyone else out there who needs it, as we cast our gaze out to this collective life of ours. We’re watching the world through angles we’ve never before had access to, heating up (physically and metaphorically) in ways we haven’t seen before. With such changes come the twin threads of rapid unravelling and untold creativity.

In it all, I’ve been thinking about resilience. In ecology, resilience is a system’s ability to be disrupted, but not overwhelmed. And you know what one of the main indicators of resilience is?... diversity. Think of the strength of an old-growth forest that has many ages and compositions of species, with different needs, skills, and abilities to withstand impact, versus a monocrop plantation. Which do you think might better meet a disruption?

But, what does that mean when it comes to us? What does that mean when we are facing changes that are unpredictable? Well, I am not an expert on the matter, but we can look to the ways that people have been with each other across cultures and throughout history, and start to draw inspiration from what humans have always done. We can strengthen our skills and our connection to the “village” as a revolutionary way to stay rooted in groundless times. We can gather, swap, reskill, sing, and lean into the edge to grow our capacity in enlivening ways. We can rest and remember how to tend to our inner landscapes—and to each other.

Over the next few months, I hope to share some posts on resiliency practices I’ve gleaned and been inspired by through my travels, work, and community, and to have some meaningful conversations with others who might offer pathways through the dark.

In the meantime, I’d love to hear what resilience means to you—and what practices, skills, or preparations you take part in to meet the changes in our beloved world.

With liminal love,
Carly Jay