There are times when we have to say no to what is being asked of us, even if it’s good and important, in order to say yes to the most central value we have.
We have to protect it, not only because it’s important to us, but because it might be the most important role we play in community.
We can’t say yes to everything. We are limited people.
Sometimes, we have to say no so we can keep saying yes.
Show your roots —
Make known the ones who named you (the truest you)
Make known the ones who shaped you (the still becoming you)
Live roots made visible.
The love,
The care,
The nurture,
The belonging.
The wholeness,
of every community,
of every neighbor,
of every parent,
of every friend,
of every guide,
still shaping,
still claiming.
Good morning Good morning from this baby bunny bum. 
This is Thelma, my baby yard-bunny, and this was the first thing I saw upon walking outside my house. Then she hopped over to the driveway.
Many years ago, I worked in a context where everyone worked with their office doors closed. There may be many reasons for this — needing quiet, having a place to focus, or other kinds of needs entirely. That context was filled with lovely, supportive people, but this happened to be a very stressful period of time in our collective history. Some part of me wonders if we all kept our doors closed because stress pheromones were constantly floating through the air in that space.
Anxiety can function like a contagion. We can pick up on the anxious energy of others through body language and yes, even pheromones. We may also be anxious about similar concerns, and someone’s anxiety may evoke our own. That same anxiety in a person or community may also trigger older, stressful storylines from our lives. The anxiety can grow.
Sometimes, we need space alone or in small groups of non-anxious (at the moment) people so we can ground ourselves again and regulate or co-regulate our nervous systems.
In a remarkably anxious period of time, it is okay and helpful to take that space, both for ourselves and for the collective circles of people we love.
Here are some of the best images from my time in Northern Michigan. I’m back home now and still reflecting on this time, which was purposeful, restful, and adventurous (grateful!)
-Photos by Renee Roederer
🙂
As you’ve probably noticed from my other posts this week, my treasured friend/workmate and I are in Traverse City at the National Cherry Festival representing the Epilepsy Foundation of Michigan with our Big Brain!
This is such a fun, educational tool, and we had our first full day yesterday. We invited people inside — though honestly, most people approached it themselves; it’s big and puffy! — and we had incredible conversations with the gathered community. We laughed. We affirmed the crafts that kids had assembled at a nearby booth (lots of kiddos were carrying wooden boats). We taught people about the brain, epilepsy, and seizures. We gave hugs. We cried with some people. And in ways that were most touching, we witnessed people discovering themselves represented:
“I’m so glad you’re out here. My sister has epilepsy and is having brain surgery next month.”
“My daughter and I both have epilepsy. The schools need to learn how to care for children who experience seizures.”
“I was just diagnosed. When I see this, I don’t feel alone.”
“Can you help me learn how to care better for my best friend?”
We watched something else happen too: Parents walked into the Big Brain with their kids, and they became the educators. They used the signs to teach their own children about epilepsy.
We loved overhearing this.
The Big Brain is such a wonderful tool because it allows us to teach people, and it allows people to see themselves and their needs represented, cared for, honored, and celebrated. But it also creates space for people to teach each other.
So friends, whatever you’re doing, and whatever you’re creating — undoubtedly, something different that traveling around with a Big Brain — I also want you to know,
Sometimes you do the work, yes, but sometimes, you simply make space for the work. People walk into that space and join you, and it grows much bigger.
— Renee Roederer
Photos of the Big Brain.
Smuggling Grace 