ALIGN V: Nurture

What a week.

I normally love Fridays, but this ominous "Friday the 13th" seems only heightened by the police presence here in New York City. Although I'd be tempted to launch into on all the ways my physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual worlds have been challenged this week (feeling like I've been launched on a chaotic roller coaster ride), I'm snapped back to reality every time I catch a whiff of the news.

Heartless, cruel, and senseless killing. Loss of innocent life. Inexpressible grief and real pain.

I sit down to write - in an attempt to begin processing what I feel - and I'm greeted with this week's article topic: Nurturing.

Feels ironic, to say the least.

Immediately, questions arise.

What good are you doing to help alleviate suffering by writing about nurturing?

Is self-love, kindness, care, and compassion really going to help right now?

OTHER people need help. Are you DOING enough?

Of course, I don't have the answers to these questions. They bounce off the corners of my mind like a pinball machine ball frantically trying to stay in play.

As I wrote the final chapter of my book on this topic of nurturing, some interesting things came out onto the pages - things I didn't expect. Nurturing wasn't just about checking off self-care boxes and finding space for meditative peace, but about understanding that in nature (and life) change and growth happen in cycles and flows.

And these cycles have parts that aren't always pretty, easy, or without pain:

A snake sheds its skin when it has outgrown it, when it is no longer helpful, or, in some cases, to proactively avoid being attacked by parasites. When this process occurs, the snake’s new skin must form before the old one is shed. Although it’s a necessary part of the cycle, a period in the transition leaves the snake temporarily unable to see well, or even blind. Sometimes the snake must find a safe place to hide until they are ready to shed the old skin. Once shed, the skin that is no longer needed is discarded until the process repeats itself.

Hermit crabs’ process of molting, where they leave and find a new shell, supports their growth and evolution, but it also leaves them incredibly vulnerable. Having no protection without their shell, they will often bury themselves in the sand during this transition period to ensure their safety.

And then there's the butterfly. For the full transformation from caterpillar to butterfly to occur, the caterpillar must completely break down. In fact, if you were to break open the cocoon at a certain point in the cycle, there would be nothing left but a gooey mess of cells.

It's tempting to want to run away from the difficult moments or the pain points that arise in the cycles of life, but they are a necessary part of growth. In fact, embracing them as the way forward is the only way to go. John Green, in The Anthropocene Reviewed, writes:

“As the poet Robert Frost put it, 'The only way out is through' And the only good way through is together. Even when circumstances separate us - in fact, especially when they do - the way through is together.”

Nurturing asks us to look inward and, with kindness, care, and compassion, extend ourselves the time and space to truly attend to our own needs. It isn’t always easy, but it’s a necessary part of what it means to allow for growth and change. Much different than simply offering ourselves an escape from our current circumstances, true nurturing allows us to change, and to eventually emerge into the next version of who we are in the world.

I don't have three easy steps to offer you today, just a simple reminder:

Keep looking. Keep loving. Keep leaning in.

Sometimes nurturing is about the things we do to care for ourselves (and others). Other times, it's about the things we allow. The commitments we make to attend to the needs of ourselves and others do make a difference.

Change must always begin from within. It's not easy, but together we will make it through.