Finding light through community in heavy times

I feel gutted daily by the news. It’s rough out there—there’s a steady thrum of despair, frustration, and grief. But amidst all this heaviness, I’m witnessing something quietly powerful: people are building community in creative, soulful ways. It’s a hopeful pattern that I want to uplift.

Last month, I received an invitation to a “Liberation Seder.” This wasn’t your typical Passover gathering. It was framed as an invitation for “feminine goddesses (like me!) to begin addressing our need for restoration, liberation, and rejuvenation—so that we’re stronger and more able to do the thing we’re each called to do.” I spent a beautiful evening connecting with women I mostly didn’t know, and was especially moved by a one-on-one conversation with a stranger. We spoke candidly about grief—how I’m still healing from my mom’s death almost four years ago, and she from her recent divorce. That conversation stayed with me.

A few weeks later, I was invited to a gathering called The Courage We Need to Be the Women We Are. It was a powerful reflection on how being heart-centered can deepen our courage. I left feeling bolstered—not just by meeting new people or reconnecting with a familiar face, but by the realization that I know something is mine to do when my body, brain, and gut all say yes. That kind of alignment is rare and deeply grounding.

Another friend of mine has been hosting a “climate support group,” creating space for people to hold each other through the emotional weight of climate change. At a recent session, we took a walk to one of her favorite yards in Austin, which features a whimsical collection of fairy houses (including my personal favorite, the Bob Ross fairy house). Afterward, we had a deep discussion about the relationship between self and place. One participant closed with a blessing about remembering the passion of our 20-something selves. I’ve been sitting with that ever since.

These moments of connection and clarity have been such gifts. I’m especially grateful to the organizers who had the vision and courage to try something new. There’s a quiet revolution in how these gatherings are designed. I see people putting into practice Priya Parker’s concept of a “disputable purpose”—offering a gathering centered around something specific and meaningful, and trusting others to decide whether it’s for them.

I see people experimenting—hosting a meeting, seeing if it resonates, and letting go if it doesn’t. One-off events can be just as powerful as ongoing groups. And in some cases, they evolve: in one long-standing professional group I’m part of, a few of us realized we wanted more accountability between our regular meetings. We started a simple weekly 30-minute phone call, and it’s turned into a grounding space for connection and idea-sharing.

These acts of convening—large or small—are helping me stay upright right now. They remind me that hope doesn’t always arrive as a sweeping solution. Sometimes it looks like a walk among fairy houses. Sometimes it’s a question over dinner, a phone call, a quiet moment of alignment.

And sometimes, it’s just the courage to experiment—with a new kind of gathering, a new kind of invitation. The world needs that kind of brave creativity now more than ever.