Finding Light

It's out there, even on the world's darkest days.

Since I started writing on Substack, inspiration for posts has come easily. Ideas often arrive at the most inconvenient, non-writing times—when I’m driving, in the shower, out for a walk—but they pop up frequently. I’m usually playing with a few at a time. Basically, I haven’t yet struggled with finding something to write about.

Until now. Global news is heart shattering, even as we know our history is riddled with the atrocities of war. Any ideas I had for this post have sort of crumpled, hollow, to the side of the page. It feels remiss to pretend otherwise.

And yet, somehow, I have carried on, the minutiae of my days mostly unchanged. I drove my kids to sports practices, did laundry, made dinner; I wrote, read, worked out, and listened to podcasts. I won’t pretend to be an expert in the psychology of trauma, personal or global, near or far, acute or ongoing. I only know that sometimes carrying on feels like the only option.

Recently, I read

Mary Joan Cunningham

’s latest post, (When) Things Feel Hard. I found her words incredibly comforting.  

If we feel overwhelmed by world events, bringing focus in can give a sense of control when we need it most. Caring for our own needs (even if only briefly) can have lasting effects. It’s the ripple on the lake that keeps radiating out to others. No, we can’t solve all the world’s problems, but by better caring for ourselves, we can help others.

It’s like the oxygen masks on the plane, right? When I was a child, that portion of the safety instructions always shook me. What if my parents took too long to put on their masks? Now that I’m a mother, the direction bears repeating, as it rubs contrary to my instinct.

Photo by Calle Macarone on Unsplash

The science of empathy in response to suffering is complex, but we know that empathy, alone, can have a paralyzing effect. The suffering in our world, on a global or private scale, can trample our human hearts.

Compassion, on the other hand, is rooted in strength and empathetic action; it has the power to relieve suffering.

Time and again, we are reminded that life can change in an instant. Our hearts, while they bleed, can swell with love in equal measure, overwhelmed with the raw beauty of our world. In the same week that saw war erupt on the other side of our globe, I submitted a short story and met with a writing coach, two quiet but major wins.

Light and darkness coexist, and joy does not negate suffering. All this to say, I feel obliged to honor my beautiful, chaotic life as best I can—to carry on, even—or perhaps more so, when my heart feels heavy. Its weight is best used to harness compassion and light on the world’s darkest days.

Compassion vs. Empathy: What’s the Difference?

As always, thank you so much for being here and taking time to read my work. Please share Dream Big with anyone you think might enjoy it.