Being with whatever you're feeling right now.

Post election thoughts from the coffee shop.

INWARD starts on Monday. Join me for this truly powerful journaling workshop.

---

Hi Friends,

I’m sitting in a favorite coffee shop in Detroit, having returned last night from a week in California. The pic above is from this past Sunday, in front of Methuselah, a nearly 2000 year old giant Redwood tree. Here’s a pic of the tree, though it doesn’t begin to capture her energy or size.

My friend Abby and I have a ritual of visiting Methuselah when I’m in the Bay Area. We hug her, take loads of pictures, and generally stand in awe of her magnificence. I adore trees, and am nuts about Methuselah. It’s as if she whispers, All is okay. Really, all is okay. And since she’s been around for 2000 years, I want to believe her. In her presence, I do.

Though all feels far from okay right now.

I felt called to write today mostly just to send love out to all of you reading this. Many of you, like me, are heartbroken about the election. To you I send some extra love, because I know how devastated I feel and I know you need it. For those of you celebrating the outcome, I encourage you to be aware that many of your fellow country people are suffering. To all of us, heartbroken or celebratory, I encourage us to remember one another’s humanity.

I’m not here today to sugarcoat anything. I’m angry, grieving and still somewhat in shock. I’m also not here to exacerbate dread, because as freaked out as I feel about what’s coming, I’m not certain about how things are going to unfold.

Whatever you’re feeling is yours to feel. Be with it, and if you’re able, be extra gentle with yourself and with those around you.

---

A friend shared this yesterday, and it’s something I’ve long felt:

I can’t pretend to know just where the USA is headed, but I can stay connected to my heart as we head there, and let love be my guiding force (even if it doesn’t feel like it right now). This is my work.

---

I’ve read countless versions of the following on social media: If you voted for Trump, unfriend me right now.

I understand the impulse, especially from those of us in marginalized communities, who feel much less safe under a Trump presidency. It stings in a different way when someone you love, and who loves you, votes for a candidate/party that wants to restrict your civil rights.

I wrote the following, days after the 2016 election:

I used to take all politics really personally. Some in my family vote Republican, and they’ve supported candidates who didn’t believe I should have equal rights as a gay man. I had a hard time understanding how they—my family members whom I love and who love me—could have voted against my equal protections under the law. It hurt. It felt personal, but it wasn’t. They weren’t voting against my interests. They were voting for their own.

That’s how elections work. No candidate will meet all of our desires. We decide what issues we care about the most, and what convictions we’re willing to compromise along the way.

A news reporter stationed himself at a polling place in rural Pennsylvania on election day. He asked a woman in her mid-40s if she was voting for Trump or Clinton. She said she had a couple kids in high school and wanted them to graduate and be able to find jobs. She planned to vote for Trump, even though she “didn’t like some things about him,” because she believed he was a better choice for the economy. “I’m voting for my children,” she said.

The reporter interviewed another woman, mid-30s, who was also voting for Trump. He asked her if she was bothered by the things Trump has said about women. She answered “yes, definitely,” but that she was bothered more by the threat of terrorism and felt that he would keep the country more secure.

We pick the issues we care about the most, and we make our compromises along the way. Who’s to judge what issues should matter the most to each of us?

As heartbroken and disappointed as I am with the election results, I still feel the same as I wrote above. And, it still stings in a worse way with those I love who voted for him.

I’m not here to talk anyone into or out of feeling and doing what you feel called to feel and do. We have to be our own most devoted caretakers and act accordingly. I’m just here to encourage us all, as much as we are able, to stay connected to love. Even in our despair and outrage and fear. Because love will help us through it.

If it’s helpful for you to share how you're feeling, without dehumanizing others in doing so, I will hold your words and heart in mine.

---

I’m not going to offer my analysis of why the election went the way it went. I’m sure we all have our ideas about that (along with feeling baffled by it). What does seem clearer than ever to me is just how much so many of us have been struggling financially. I can’t think of one friend or family member with whom I’ve spoken in the past couple of years who hasn’t complained about the price of everyday things. We have all felt the burden of inflation, and the tens of millions with limited resources have felt it the hardest.

The economy always seems to be the number one issue for most voters in every election, and this one was no different (at least according to exit polls and, I would argue, the results themselves). Inflation appears to have shifted public sentiment around the globe, as incumbent leaders of all political persuasions have been voted out of office. More than any other thing, in my opinion, people want to feel less stressed and insecure about their immediate survival needs. They want to be able to afford to put food on the table for themselves and their families. And it’s been really tough. Though I don’t in any way believe Trump is a better choice for our economy, I can understand how people who do believe he is, and are struggling, would prioritize that and vote for him. (Okay, I guess I did offer some of my analysis.)

It’s easy for me to say I put reproductive and civil rights at the top of my voting issues (and I do), but I also haven’t had to worry about whether or not I’ll be able to feed myself. Or worse, my children.

All this to say what I’ve said here often recently. We cannot know for sure how we would react if we had to walk in another person’s shoes. We can’t know for sure that we wouldn’t make the same choices they’re making. At least let this truth keep us connected to one another with compassion. If not now, when we’re reeling, then hopefully in time.

Personally, I’m not interested in an us v. them way of thinking. Political establishments have long been expert at stoking division, and I can’t give my heart over to that way of being. Actually, my heart won’t let me give myself over to it.

---

I’m going to leave you today with this poem my friend Erik sent me, by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer:

Today when the heart is a small, tight knot,

I do not try to untangle it. I don’t tug on the strings

in a desperate attempt to unravel it.

I don’t even wonder at how it got so snarled.

Instead, I imagine cradling it, cupping it

with my hands like something precious,

something wounded, a bird with a broken wing.

I cradle my heart like the frightened thing it is.

I imagine all the other frightened hearts

and imagine them all being held in love.

And I breathe. I breathe and feel

how the breathing invites a spaciousness.

I breathe and let myself be moved by the breathing

as I open and soften. Open and soften.

And nothing changes. And everything changes.

The heart, still a knot, remembers

it knows how to love. It knows it is not alone.

---

Two things I know for sure: our hearts know how to love, and we are not alone.

Sending out the biggest hug I can muster to all of you reading this. May we continue to move forward in alignment with our hearts. May we continue to see the humanity in one another. May we continue to stand in and for love. However that looks.

I love you.

Scott

---

Upcoming Events:

INWARD STARTS MONDAY!

From Kandy, a participant in October’s journaling workshop:

I joined Scott Stabile's Journaling Adventure with the simple intention of establishing a regular journaling routine, but I walked away with so much more. Scott’s openness, encouragement, and acceptance made me feel safe, giving me permission to be vulnerable, which truly deepened the experience. The connection with the incredible participants, feeling truly seen, heard, and accepted, led to healing childhood wounds, powerful AHA moments, and a deeper appreciation for myself and others. It was a transformative journey that far exceeded my expectations. - Kandy D.

REGISTER HERE

---

REGISTER HERE