moving with the rhythm of resistance
/rōot/ awakenings post # 13 - on cycles, seasons, and sustainable resistance
This week, as the regime continued ramping up its attacks—silencing dissent, stripping rights, bullying allies, and acting with reckless cruelty—a familiar fear settled deeper into the recesses of our bellies. It’s a fear many of us haven’t felt this intensely since the pandemic, or the first time 47 was in power. The unpredictability of it all—the sheer chaos—has left so many of us feeling battered, bruised, and unmoored, struggling to make sense of what’s happening now, and not wanting to think about what’s coming next.
We’re only a little over one month in, but maybe you’ve felt paralyzed into inaction, unsure of what you can do to truly make a difference. Perhaps you’ve been caught in an anxiety spiral. Or maybe you’ve been overwhelmed by the tidal wave of information and headlines flooding the news and social media, struggling to keep your head above water. Whatever your experience, please know this: there is nothing wrong with you, and you are not alone.
While the anxiety many of us are feeling right now is eerily similar to what we experienced during the pandemic—an ever-present sense of uncertainty—there is a key difference. During the pandemic, our anxiety came from a crisis that unfolded organically, shaped by forces beyond human control. The current chaos isn’t unintended—it’s intentional. This regime thrives on instability, weaponizing uncertainty to exhaust us, to make us feel powerless, to push us toward resignation. This moment isn’t just fear of the unknown; it’s a deliberate strategy designed to wear us down until we give in, fall in line, and stop resisting. The goal isn’t just to wield power over us—it’s to make us doubt our own.
When everything around us feels uncertain, learning to move with the rhythms of nature reminds us that survival isn’t about constant movement—it’s about choosing how we move through the moment. Choosing when to root down and when to bend, when to rest and when to rise. We can choose to feel the wind on our skin, to root ourselves in the packed earth beneath our feet, to learn from the quiet patience of a tree that has weathered centuries of change. These are reminders that we, too, are part of something enduring—something resilient.
It doesn’t have to be complicated. Simple acts—stepping outside and listening to the rustle of leaves. Noticing the shape of the moon as it waxes and wanes. Plunging our hands into cool, damp soil. Letting the weight of a stone remind us of our own presence and perseverance. Feeling the rhythm of our breath as an echo of the tide, ebbing and flowing with each wave.
These acts aren’t just grounding—they remind us that we belong to something far bigger than this moment. That we’re meant to move with the world, not against it. That resistance isn’t about standing rigid in the storm, but about bending, flowing, and finding our way through with grace.
The people wreaking havoc in our world right now thrive on disconnection—on making us feel small, separate, and alone. But the natural world tells a different story. It reminds us that everything is interconnected, that change is inevitable, and that even after the harshest winter, spring always returns.
a compassionate reframe
The earth may be in constant motion, but it moves through seasons of rest and renewal. It trusts its rhythms—and so should we. Just like the sun doesn’t hesitate before rising, the tides don’t question their return, and the trees don’t resist the changing seasons, we aren’t meant to move through life bracing for impact, forever caught in a cycle of fear, anxiety, and exhaustion. Trusting the rhythm of nature means trusting ourselves, knowing that we aren’t drifting aimlessly, but moving with towards something better. It’s about remembering that resistance isn’t just about the fight—it’s about discernment and listening to that little voice inside that tells us when to stand firm and when to surrender, when to push forward and when to pause.
reflection prompts
As we continue to navigate this moment of collective uncertainty, I invite you to reflect on the following:
- When fear and uncertainty feel overwhelming, what aspects of the natural world remind you that some things remain steady?
- What are the small, tangible ways you can reconnect with the earth to find stability and certainty when you feel anxious or unsteady?
- How might you learn from nature’s rhythms—when to root, when to bend, when to rest, when to rise?
- What would it feel like to trust that, just like the seasons, we are part of something cyclical—that this moment, however painful, will not last forever?
one final thought
Finding stability and certainty in nature is a way to return to ourselves. It is an act of remembering: that we are connected, that we belong, and that we are meant to move with the rhythms of the world, not against them. Even in the darkest moments, we don’t have to navigate this moment alone. We have the earth. We have each other. And when we learn to move with the cycles of change rather than resist them, we discover a power deeper than fear—one they can’t take from us.
May this week bring you steadiness, comfort and the grace as you move from one moment to the next.
In solidarity + gratitude,
new workshops + events
Dimple Dhabalia
We are living through a moment that none of us were trained for. Regardless of title or position, people across the government and humanitarian sectors are being asked to lead in ways we never imagined we’d have to in this country. There is no manual for navigating authoritarianism, no playbook for leading through the erosion of institutions and programs you may have dedicated your life to protecting. But if we are going to sustain this fight—not just for today, but for the long haul—we have to intentionally build the skills to do so.
To support these efforts I’ve launched a series of workshops, writing groups, and small group coaching sessions designed to help leaders cultivate skills like awareness, compassion, moral courage, and collective care—all of which are needed to act with clarity and integrity in an unprecedented time. These spaces will help you stay grounded, connected, and engaged—so you can continue to show up in ways that are sustainable, human, and aligned with your deepest values. Because the smallest acts—the most human ones—matter. And caring for yourself in the face of injustice isn’t a luxury; it’s an act of defiance.
Check out the full calendar of events below.
in case you missed it . . .
Dimple Dhabalia