An embodied reflection on collapse, connection, and what comes next. This piece explores how the nervous system helps us make sense of this American moment—how cultural and political conditions live in the body and shape the ways we move, relate, and imagine what’s possible.
This is so well stated. As a psychotherapist and spiritual director, presence is my job and my honor. And I am always on the bandwagon of living in community where we can connect and heal. I will be sharing this. Thank you.
Thank you so much, Amy. I’m so glad the piece resonated. And I really appreciate you sharing it—especially as someone who works so intentionally with presence and community. Grateful to be in conversation.
I found your essay half way down a rabbit hole that I am currently mining. I have just opened an gallery & listening room and I'm exploring ways to develop the use of this intimate but stunning space in holistic way for the benefit of those who come in. Cultivating a 'parasympathetic' experience (rather than a stimulating one) for the viewer/listener, perhaps holding philosophical talks and discussions about living in our times and the power of embodying diverse artistic mediums to calm, help us find our stable center and be an intersection for social engagement and community.
Heidi—thank you for sharing this. I love the idea of intentionally creating an experience through art, sound, and conversation that helps people slow down, feel grounded, and connect. There’s something powerful about making space for reflection, meaning-making, and community—especially in times like these. Grateful our paths crossed down this particular rabbit hole.
I also think we’ve reached the point when the sadism is too much. It’s hard to sort the external from the internal. As a journalist who’s covering what I discern as the key, often-overlooked stories, I’m suddenly finding that work no longer feels empowering. I think it’s crucial to address the psychological aspects of this regime. Clearly, terror is their tactic. History may have lessons but our psyches have never developed antibodies.
Thank you, Susan, for this. Your line—“our psyches have never developed antibodies”—deeply resonates. So much of what we’re living through feels engineered to fragment us, to exhaust our capacity to metabolize what’s happening, let alone respond. How do we keep showing up when the mechanisms of power seem designed not just to dominate, but to unmake meaning?
Part of why I wrote this piece was to name that psychological toll on our bodies and nervous systems—not as a side effect, but as a central strategy. And to ask what it might look like to protect our nervous systems not by turning away, but by cultivating a different kind of presence. I’m grateful to be in this conversation with you.
I appreciate the conversation, too. I just finished reading Jia Tolentino's piece "My Brain Finally Broke"in this week's New Yorker, and as always, she is in tune with the moment. When we started Journal of the Plague Years (the magazine, not the Substack) five years ago, we assembled not so much a readership or a staff, but a tribe, if that doesn't sound too woo woo. The magazine helped us all through the pandemic. Now, somehow, knowing there are like-minded people doesn't feel like enough. I wish I didn't feel that way. But this feels worse than the pandemic, because it is willed; human cruelty rather than a stochastic event (presumably) caused by nature.
Hello, my long-ago neighbor! I just wanted to say how moved and grateful I am for your writing. This resonates with me as I endeavor to make theater/social-practice-art that brings people into a space of listening/hearing/dialogue at this time. I think of the science that shows audiences heartbeats synchronize when we experience a profound work of art together. I’m definitely struggling to define and make sense of my role in charting our path forward at this time, and you articulate the why/what so powerfully.
Ari!! So great to hear from you and to feel the thread of connection across time and space. I love what you shared about your work in theater and social-practice art—it feels so aligned with what I was trying to name in the piece. That image of synchronized heartbeats deeply resonates. It brings to mind what Somatic Experiencing describes as “pendulation”—the natural rhythm between activation and settling—and how our nervous systems can co-regulate and attune in shared spaces. Your work seems to invite exactly that kind of resonance.
I know the struggle you describe—trying to locate our role in this moment, and how to show up through our work in ways that are true and connective. I’m really grateful the piece found its way to you.
Stephen, I ended up here through the link in the St A's update and am so glad I did. Everything you've said here makes sense to me. It's how I manage my significant PTSD - to be aware of what happens in my body and then to consciously engage with my wise self so that I can choose how to respond. Everyone I know who has experienced significant trauma in their lives finds these times particularly challenging and what you say here about our national nervous system helps me understand more deeply my own and our country's reaction to what is happening. The metaphor I've found most helpful is that of the Star Ship Enterprise on Star Trek. If its engines were compromised, it would not have full use of its protective shields and the danger increased as a result. So many of us, me included, are living with our shields perpetually up - to protect our soft hearts. So not only must we have places and people where it is save to let them down and simply BE, we also have to take extra special care of our engines - radical self care - so that we can continue to be present in the world and stay save. It's exhausting. Which of course just means we need more self-care and time in safe community. I never thought times like these would come to my beloved country...until 2016. I pray I live to see us come out the other side. YITB Tina
Tina, thank you so much for this generous, resonant response. I’m moved by the way you bring your own experience—and your deep wisdom—into conversation with the piece. That Star Trek metaphor is so apt. Shields up, engines straining, soft hearts still beating underneath it all. Yes to the need for places where we can let down our guard, and for radical self-care that isn’t just individual but shared—held in community. I share your prayer, and I’m so grateful to be in this kind of reflection with you. YITB, Stephen
This is so well stated. As a psychotherapist and spiritual director, presence is my job and my honor. And I am always on the bandwagon of living in community where we can connect and heal. I will be sharing this. Thank you.
Thank you so much, Amy. I’m so glad the piece resonated. And I really appreciate you sharing it—especially as someone who works so intentionally with presence and community. Grateful to be in conversation.
Wow. This is the first thing that has made sense to me in a while. Thank you.
Thank you, Alison. That means a lot. I’m really glad it resonated.
I found your essay half way down a rabbit hole that I am currently mining. I have just opened an gallery & listening room and I'm exploring ways to develop the use of this intimate but stunning space in holistic way for the benefit of those who come in. Cultivating a 'parasympathetic' experience (rather than a stimulating one) for the viewer/listener, perhaps holding philosophical talks and discussions about living in our times and the power of embodying diverse artistic mediums to calm, help us find our stable center and be an intersection for social engagement and community.
Heidi—thank you for sharing this. I love the idea of intentionally creating an experience through art, sound, and conversation that helps people slow down, feel grounded, and connect. There’s something powerful about making space for reflection, meaning-making, and community—especially in times like these. Grateful our paths crossed down this particular rabbit hole.
I also think we’ve reached the point when the sadism is too much. It’s hard to sort the external from the internal. As a journalist who’s covering what I discern as the key, often-overlooked stories, I’m suddenly finding that work no longer feels empowering. I think it’s crucial to address the psychological aspects of this regime. Clearly, terror is their tactic. History may have lessons but our psyches have never developed antibodies.
Thank you, Susan, for this. Your line—“our psyches have never developed antibodies”—deeply resonates. So much of what we’re living through feels engineered to fragment us, to exhaust our capacity to metabolize what’s happening, let alone respond. How do we keep showing up when the mechanisms of power seem designed not just to dominate, but to unmake meaning?
Part of why I wrote this piece was to name that psychological toll on our bodies and nervous systems—not as a side effect, but as a central strategy. And to ask what it might look like to protect our nervous systems not by turning away, but by cultivating a different kind of presence. I’m grateful to be in this conversation with you.
I appreciate the conversation, too. I just finished reading Jia Tolentino's piece "My Brain Finally Broke"in this week's New Yorker, and as always, she is in tune with the moment. When we started Journal of the Plague Years (the magazine, not the Substack) five years ago, we assembled not so much a readership or a staff, but a tribe, if that doesn't sound too woo woo. The magazine helped us all through the pandemic. Now, somehow, knowing there are like-minded people doesn't feel like enough. I wish I didn't feel that way. But this feels worse than the pandemic, because it is willed; human cruelty rather than a stochastic event (presumably) caused by nature.
Hello, my long-ago neighbor! I just wanted to say how moved and grateful I am for your writing. This resonates with me as I endeavor to make theater/social-practice-art that brings people into a space of listening/hearing/dialogue at this time. I think of the science that shows audiences heartbeats synchronize when we experience a profound work of art together. I’m definitely struggling to define and make sense of my role in charting our path forward at this time, and you articulate the why/what so powerfully.
Ari!! So great to hear from you and to feel the thread of connection across time and space. I love what you shared about your work in theater and social-practice art—it feels so aligned with what I was trying to name in the piece. That image of synchronized heartbeats deeply resonates. It brings to mind what Somatic Experiencing describes as “pendulation”—the natural rhythm between activation and settling—and how our nervous systems can co-regulate and attune in shared spaces. Your work seems to invite exactly that kind of resonance.
I know the struggle you describe—trying to locate our role in this moment, and how to show up through our work in ways that are true and connective. I’m really grateful the piece found its way to you.
🎯 can hear your voice in every word 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼
That means a lot—thank you. Trying to stay close to what feels true.
Stephen, I ended up here through the link in the St A's update and am so glad I did. Everything you've said here makes sense to me. It's how I manage my significant PTSD - to be aware of what happens in my body and then to consciously engage with my wise self so that I can choose how to respond. Everyone I know who has experienced significant trauma in their lives finds these times particularly challenging and what you say here about our national nervous system helps me understand more deeply my own and our country's reaction to what is happening. The metaphor I've found most helpful is that of the Star Ship Enterprise on Star Trek. If its engines were compromised, it would not have full use of its protective shields and the danger increased as a result. So many of us, me included, are living with our shields perpetually up - to protect our soft hearts. So not only must we have places and people where it is save to let them down and simply BE, we also have to take extra special care of our engines - radical self care - so that we can continue to be present in the world and stay save. It's exhausting. Which of course just means we need more self-care and time in safe community. I never thought times like these would come to my beloved country...until 2016. I pray I live to see us come out the other side. YITB Tina
Tina, thank you so much for this generous, resonant response. I’m moved by the way you bring your own experience—and your deep wisdom—into conversation with the piece. That Star Trek metaphor is so apt. Shields up, engines straining, soft hearts still beating underneath it all. Yes to the need for places where we can let down our guard, and for radical self-care that isn’t just individual but shared—held in community. I share your prayer, and I’m so grateful to be in this kind of reflection with you. YITB, Stephen