09/08/2026
I took today off because I needed to refill myself.
I’ve been working a lot, and I went up to the Sandia Mountains expecting the thing I’ve found there so many times before—cool air, green forest, quiet, and that feeling of coming back to myself.
But today it felt completely different.
So many dead trees have been removed, the forest was open and bare, and everything felt incredibly dry. Instead of feeling restored, I felt heartbroken.
On the drive home, I cried. At one point I even screamed in the car because I just needed to let some of it out.
It felt like the Earth was hurting, and somehow I was feeling a little piece of that pain too.
And underneath that sadness was fear—about the future, about things that feel so much bigger than me, and that helpless feeling of wondering what any one of us can really do.
But as I drove home, I realized something else.
What helps me most when I feel that way is remembering that I’m not alone.
Being around people who care. Friends, family, community. People showing kindness, supporting one another, paying attention, and trying in their own ways to make things a little better.
It doesn’t solve everything. There are real things we have to change and real actions we have to take.
But maybe that’s part of what it means to practice hope.
Not pretending everything is okay.
Not numbing ourselves because caring hurts.
But letting ourselves feel it, connecting with each other, and asking: What’s mine to do?
Maybe it’s one more conscious choice. One act of kindness. Taking better care of ourselves or someone else. Caring for the little piece of this Earth that we touch.
None of us can fix everything alone.
But we’re not alone.
And maybe all those little ripples of caring, love, consciousness, and action really do become something bigger when we make them together.
I’d genuinely love to know—when the world feels overwhelming, what helps you come back to hope?
