When you’re anxious about the future and craving stability

Rootedness
Stability
An Anchor

These are words I’m often hearing when folks talk about what they are longing for. The question is, in this time of rapid change and uncertainty, what can be relied on?

As I was contemplating this question on a walk last week, suddenly a big hawk flew over and landed on a fence right in front of me. It checked things out for a few minutes, then looked me straight in the eye, shot out a big white poop, and flew on to a nearby tree. 

You might find this story gross, but I think it’s a pretty great response to the question!

“Release that shit and move on,” is what I hear. 

I think this process itself could be the anchor. We keep digesting, keep eliminating, and keep going.

Maybe we’re not truly designed for constancy anyway. Trees are so well-rooted, birds can fly from one to another, perching on any strong branch. Maybe we too can trust we’ll find what we need when we need it.

I think of the moon cycles too. We see the moon full for only a night or two each month, but in reality, the moon is always whole. She is a steady companion. Even though, from our vantage point, she seems to always be changing.

What I hear is nature saying:

Root in the practice of letting go and moving on.

Stabilize on what’s already here and grounded.

Find dependability in the cycles.

If you’re feeling anxious about the future and not sure how you’ll deal with the trials to come, here’s a little gift. It’s a simple song meant for the shower, the road, your community, or anytime you need a little help trusting yourself and the bigger picture: “When The Time Comes”: A Singalong for Anxious Times by Julia Aziz. It’s been good medicine for me, and I hope it will be for you too.

Wishing you a new chapter of curiosity and adaptability, with lots and lots of love,

Julia Aziz

PS- I made a choice some years ago to be consistent with certain offerings, to create a rootedness in practice and ritual. If you could use a space to rely on during these times of change, please check out the variety of offerings on this site. Or you can read these reflections in your inbox once in a while and get updates about services by signing up for my mailing list 💛

When you’re feeling worried

Do you ever feel like your concerns are repeating on an endless loop? “What if… but then, what if…?” To deal with the noise, you might be controlling everything you can, googling down rabbit holes, or seeking distraction. No matter how you cope, it’s hard to think clearly with a worried mind.

In contemplating worry, I like to remember a morning walk I took in northern California last fall. My mind was full from a recent family crisis, and ruminating thoughts were completely distracting me from the surrounding beauty. Then I noticed a small opening inside a big redwood tree. Curious, I squeezed through and found myself in complete darkness. I felt my way around the space and sat down until the noise in my head began to settle.

“Don’t rush to a solution. Sit here and rest,” counseled the tree.

So I did. 

The troubles plaguing my mind didn’t get resolved, but slowly, their urgency lessened. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I began to see shapes–and options I hadn’t been aware of before. When I reemerged from the tree hollow, I felt like myself again, mind and body back to earth.

Worry likes to say:

“Don’t let your guard down. The other shoe is about to drop. Figure it out now–there’s not enough time.”

Quiet says:

“Oh sweetie, you’ve found your way through chaos before. It’s OK to slow down. Wait until you can see your next step.”

Only we can decide which voice to listen to. 

What if fear was a doorway to trust? Despite its compelling nature, worry is not a protection from bad things happening nor does it help us think clearly or creatively. What helps in long-term crisis and uncertain change is caring, thoughtful humans offering of themselves in the particular ways they are called to contribute. More pressure won’t help; solid ground can.

As our long story continues, may we find refuge through the fear, re-rooting ourselves for inspired action. And in our darkest of hours, may the quiet voice of compassion be a true companion and guide.

Sending love,
Julia Aziz

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Who do you want to be in the chaos?

Lately, I’ve been sitting with this question. I started contemplating it when a series of events involving structures crumbling, health breakdowns, and fallen leadership occurred in my personal life within the span of a few days. There’s nothing particularly unusual about this kind of chaos right now. The disruptive energy of change is here. There is no avoiding it. When everything starts falling apart at once, my automatic response is usually multi-tasking, over-helping, and overdrive. But that sort of high-speed crisis management is not really the best I have to offer, and I’ve been learning how to consciously shift out of that pattern more quickly. It’s actually not who I want to be in the chaos. 

I was sitting in the silence of Community Wellness Hour a few Wednesdays ago when the answer to my question came.

It was a tree.

A huge redwood tree, rooted in the mountains for more than a hundred years, reaching into the sky with branches that dance in even the strongest wind. 

But that’s not it!

Also a bird in that tree.

A bird like an eagle, or perhaps a phoenix. A bird who soars above, seeing what only one with such freedom and perspective can see.

And…

A nest for that bird in that tree, made out of what is available. Holding what is most precious.

A safe place for the vulnerable growing strong.
 

There’s a whole lot going on out there, and in here. Change, especially big change, is messy. And change at a large scale is kind of terrifying. When the structures, the leadership, and the systems fall apart, as far as I can see, there is only one way to turn: inside and to each other.

This is exactly why I started the women’s release and empower group. If we don’t give ourselves permission and space to release the stress that builds up, no one will. We have to move through the chaos we’re absorbing so we can be strong, clear, and wise when we need to be. No one–no therapist, no doctor, no teacher, no guru–can do this for you. They can guide you on the path, but only you can walk it. We need to do our own self-healing work, and we do it best when we’re together. Only then can we show up with the kind of loving presence and courage that is needed in this crazy world.

One thing I know for sure: everything can fall apart, and you can still have your heart. There are a thousand examples of this. Take Victor Frankl of Man’s Search for Meaning or Anita Moorjani of Dying To Be Me. Take every brave person who keeps their compassion at a job in the hospital, the prison, the social service agency, the shelter, or the walk-in clinic. A holy mess is happening, and it may become the norm for periods of time. So I ask you, who do you want to be in the chaos? We are all needed here.

With so much faith in you,

Julia Aziz

PS– If you’re curious about the women’s group program, check it out at this link: Release & Empower. Or, if you’d just like to stay a little more connected, sign up for my mailing list here.