
A Return to a Time of Worry
This week I was inadvertently transported back to post-Easter 2009 when I was—as now—mired in sticky, drowning worry. At that time, I found myself waiting for the return of my undocumented boyfriend (later husband, then after our separation, close friend), who had gone to his home country to be with family after the sudden death of his mother. His avenues for return to Oregon ranged from bad to worse. For days as he was making the journey, I did not hear from him. At times, I feared the worst. My anxiety was so pronounced, I reached out to an acquaintance I knew to be a wise Buddhist practitioner to ask: How do I deal with this stress?
Learning to Direct the Power of Intention
What he told me changed both my perspective on the immediate circumstances of that time, and my perspective in general. He basically said: Yes, I can help you learn to approach stress differently. But you are missing how much power you have—how much power resides in your love and intention. What if you sat in silence and focused your energy and love not on worry, but on creating a way back for your partner? What if you believe your intentions can alter the circumstances? So for 2-3 weeks, he and I sat together in meditation every few days, focusing our love and energy, imaging a pathway for my partner to return. And return he did.
Worry as a Catalyst for Good
My shift at that time didn’t cure me of worry. On occasion, I still get lost in it—at times to the point of anxiety. But I feel that in 2009, this spiritual teacher taught me a lesson that stuck: the deep feeling that manifests as stress can be a force for good if we direct the feeling in this way. The directing can have similarities to prayer, and the belief in the transforming power of love, similarities to faith. Yet, for me, it is important to have a picture in my mind—a vision. I need to see it, to state it gratefully using some sort of phrase, and to believe my faith can help bring it into being.
The Collective Satchel of Worry We Carry
Sometimes we have one behemoth of worry; sometimes a dozen smaller worries that add up to a behemoth. My experience of late is the latter. But I sense many of us are bearing a bulging satchel of worry on our backs, full of the cares of our hurting communities and worlds, and laden with concerns for our children and loved ones amidst it all. It is easy to discount what my wise teacher taught as wish-casting or as something woo-woo. But imagine the power that might be harnessed if we all focus the energy of our heartbreak on love and on imagining us out of the political and societal cul-de-sacs we are stuck in, instead of going round and round the same arguments.

Broken Hearts as Evidence of Caring
I see such intense suffering around me, both in the lives of some people close to me and in the lives of people I don’t know in my state and around the world. Peoples’ hearts are breaking. But as James Talarico recently said, that means we still have a heart. As I was working on this essay, I happened upon this quote from him:
“If your heart is breaking right now seeing what’s happening in our beloved country, it means you still have a heart. Protect that, because that’s what’s going to get us out of all of this.”
The Power of Caring in Troubling Times
Having a heart is not a liability, as some in the U.S. would have us believe. We care about immigrants. We care about children whose parents are being taken. We care about the fear that has taken hold on the streets of our cities. We care about our hardworking loved ones who cannot afford basic expenses while our current administration cuts social assistance and lavishes tax cuts on a clutch of billionaires and corporations, along with permissions to decimate our environment and advance the most destructive effects of AI without a hint of regulation. We care about war-making and peace. I could go on; so many cares. You likely have your own cares you feel deep in your marrow.
Transforming Worry into Resolve
Hearts are heavy. But hearts are also powerful. What might happen if we channel our worry into resolve to quietly envision a restorative path forward? What power resides in our collective caring? Yes, what is happening is scary and worrisome—both on a national level and on the level of families, relationships. But worry and fear can be transformed into catalysts. I believe this, even when I fail at the task of holding a new vision.
Mantras, Spirit Helpers, and Making a Way
One thing that helps me is to call on spirit helpers. Another is to have a mantra. My preferred mantra of late and for years is inspired by the Quaker conviction that says “Way will open.” My mantra is: Thank you for making a way. Thank you for making a way. Thank you for making a way.
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Wren, winner of a 2022 Independent Publishers Award Bronze Medal
Winner of the 2022 Independent Publisher Awards Bronze Medal for Regional Fiction; Finalist for the 2022 National Indie Excellence Awards. (2021) Paperback publication of Wren , a novel. “Insightful novel tackles questions of parenthood, marriage, and friendship with finesse and empathy … with striking descriptions of Oregon topography.” —Kirkus Reviews (2018) Audiobook publication of Wren.
















