“I think we need to be friends.”

Those were the first words out of my mouth when I introduced myself to Rev. Hilda Covington. We’d just finished a county meeting of nonprofit mental health and social service agencies. She was the presenter that month.

We almost didn’t meet because Hilda arrived an hour and a half late to a two-hour meeting.

I later learned that Hilda moves through the world in her own time. That meeting was not the first she was late to, nor the last. But she lit up that room when she introduced her agency, SisterHood, or “Sisters in the Hood,” as the founders named themselves when they decided to serve the families in their neighborhood who were often overlooked or dismissed by traditional systems.

I was immediately taken by her light-hearted, warm-hearted, big-hearted way.

Having spent so many years with communities society loves to marginalize, I recognized a kindred spirit. I went up to thank her for her humorous and honest presentation, and those unexpected words just came out. I’m forever grateful they did.

Fast forward 27 years.

By now, I’ve learned to listen when something unexpected tumbles out of my mouth. Time and again, I’ve watched the Soul guide me into the right moment, the right person, the right doorway. You know how that works — the quiet nudge that opens a relationship that reshapes your life and deepens your understanding of yourself and the world.

Becoming friends with Hilda did exactly that.

We live very different lives. Our beliefs about the bigger picture diverge. Our thinking was shaped by very different worlds. Our ways of serving look similar on the outside but arise from distinct lineages and lived experience.

We speak an entirely different language.

I grew up with a felt sense of safety she never had access to. We were raised a generation apart, with differences in race, class, neighborhood, education, and economic stability.

These differences have paved the way for deep, often uncomfortable, always meaningful conversations.

My mother used to tell me a story from when we lived in Germany. I was a preschooler playing in a sandbox with a little girl who spoke an entirely different language. We chattered and played as if we understood every word.

Lunch with Hilda feels like that sandbox.

I walk in unsure what the conversation will bring — seeking her counsel, planning a project, or checking in about a neighborhood need — and I always end up on a winding path through delight, discomfort, insight, and truth.

She shows me the world I cannot see. I do the same for her.

When standing at a crossroad in your life, it’s natural to seek answers.

To search for certainty about your next steps. To want assurance that the decision you are making will lead you in the right direction, with the best possible outcome.

So you think through the pros and cons. You talk with trusted people. You consider expert advice. You scroll the web and social media for guidance. Maybe you even check in with your own heart and soul.

And still, you can’t know exactly where this choice will lead you.

Eventually, after all the thinking and seeking, there comes a moment when it’s just you and this one guest that refuses to leave: Uncertainty.

The two of you sit quietly together, perhaps over a cup of tea.

You feel the mix of discomfort and excitement. The longing for clarity. The ache to know for sure that everything will work out beautifully.

But as you spend time with Uncertainty, something unexpected happens.

Your anxiety softens.
Your mind loosens its grip.
Your Heart begins to speak.

Quieter now, more spacious, you can hear the subtle conversation unfolding between your Heart and this mysterious companion.

They talk about the wonder of discovery and the potential for extraordinary growth.

Your Heart remembers the countless times you’ve navigated challenges with grace, strength, and grit.

I’m a bit of a news hound these days.

As one who hasn’t watched a newscast in years, I’m surprising myself. Ordinarily, I wait for the news to come to me. And it does. When something is important for me to know or respond to, I hear about it. Kind friends, clients, my husband, or a random stranger share a soundbite which cues me to look into a situation further. I’ve been very comfortable with this level of engagement for years now.

I’m not one to drift on social media. In fact, I’ve spent less time on all platforms than anyone I know.

I made a decision years ago to “pull” data rather than have it “pushed” to me. So, no notifications, no newsfeed, and under 15 email subscriptions. The result is that I feel freer to meander through the informational streams of life. Those delivered through people, the natural world, my inner musings, and a direct connection to something wiser and brighter than myself.

That all changed a few weeks ago when I was lured down the rabbit hole.

It began innocently enough. I was telling a friend about something on youtube and pulled it up to send to her. When I hung up the phone, I noticed the next video was a monologue from a late night host. I watched it and laughed through my discomfort of what he was sharing. Funny and clever, I liked his delivery so I returned the following day for more “news.”

I now see that was my point of entry to a much deeper exploration.

Youtube has the power to suck you in and drag you through all things relevant and wasteful. I get that it is a gateway drug to social media addiction, as well as a free source of inspiration and entertainment. Did I mention time wasting? That, too, as I’m sure you’ve experienced regardless of wherever you travel through the digital world.

Following my morning “monologue,” I found an enticing talk and figured I had 13 minutes to become educated.

It was helpful. I agreed with some of what I heard, learned something new, didn’t understand a few references, and was mildly aware that this presentation was built on a larger foundation of belief and perspective about the world at large. So, I dove deeper within that organization’s video series. And deeper. And deeper.

I’m uncomfortable as hell.

I’m so uncomfortable, I want to put my phone down, grab a novel, and sink into my happy place. As life would have it, I couldn’t seem to get into the book I was reading. In fact, I returned it to the library. That was new because I read fiction every morning and evening and always finish my book. Reading fiction is oxygen to me and a very well engrained habit. So, I was quite surprised when I gave up on 6 books in a row. This was unheard of in the history of my reading habit which began in earnest in 5th grade.

I know it is no coincidence that I was guided to my nonfiction book pile as I was also leapfrogging right and left through commentaries and reports on what was happening in the world.

When reading nonfiction, I typically read 3-4 books at one time. Gaining a bit of information from each source and letting it settle so I may integrate the knowledge in my everyday life. It’s a bit like a puzzle as the pieces from various sources coalesce into a larger picture, often leading to an expansion in my world view. I saw how my puzzle process was now including the written word, online articles, videos, and podcasts.

I’m bingeing a wide array of topics and perspectives about what is most important, solutions for making the world “work,” and why the author feels their position is correct.

Being uncomfortable and staying the course is a choice. In realizing there is a whole world that thinks differently than me and my “likeminded” community, family, and friends, I wanted to understand how to be in that world too. I can’t imagine being a part of one human “family” if I don’t understand how my “family members” think, feel, and act.

So, I’m diving deeply into perspectives that are very different than my own.

In the midst of our country’s woes, I’ve got Lucinda Williams singing in my head.

“You can’t rule me
you wanna go and tell me what’s good for me
you wanna tell me what I’m payin’ for
Well, the game is fixed, it’s plain to see
I ain’t playin’ no more”

What to do when there is no leadership that considers the pressing needs of humanity and the planet?

When those corrupted by greed, power, mental illness, and an absence of a moral compass are making decisions that harm?

It’s not a time to go full ostrich, hide under the covers, and engage the spiritual bypass that harmony reigns in the universe. It’s time to identify the highest ideals by which you will live and act accordingly.

I don’t know what that looks like for you. In fact, how you respond is none of my business. You rule you.

These days, I’m identifying what matters most to me, clarifying what gifts I have to offer, and determining what is mine to do for the benefit of humanity and the planet.

It’s not at all comfortable. Staying engaged within our country at this time is difficult. Considering the current and future impact on our citizens, our global family, and our Mother, Pachamama, can lead to an array of responses.

Fear, overwhelm, anger, grief, and hopelessness.

I hear these responses every day when in conversation with ordinary people who are definitely not representing the top 5% of wealth in our country. I feel these things myself. I allow each of these feeling to flow through me and I honor it as a valid response to the situation I’m exposed to in that moment. And then, I steady myself.

I can’t be of help to anyone if I’m unsteady.

We have enough people wobbling about in the current environment. That makes sense and yet, it is what leaves us all vulnerable to forgetting something incredibly important.

“You can’t rule me. You can’t take my money and try to rule me too.”

When I’m feeling sturdy and connected to my highest ideals, I’m open to a higher guidance. Once that considers how I might improve life in each moment.

It’s no small ask to stay engaged in the midst of the turmoil threatening the wellbeing of so many within the country and around the world. And for some, it’s just not possible right now given the personal challenges that are being navigated. That’s okay and makes sense. If you need to focus strongly on your own wellbeing and access support to make it through a difficult time, you do that. It’s wise to know when to step back from the world.

The rest of us. Well, there’s a call to action.

Systems are breaking, food prices are soaring, human rights are being dismantled, and judging your neighbor is at an all time high. The global and environmental ramifications are staggering as progress unwinds in the face of destruction. In the face of so much potential harm and disruption, it’s hard to know what to do if you’re an ordinary person.

So, I ask you.