Power and Grace: Year of the Fire Horse

Image from The Sunday Guardian

The Lunar Year of the Fire Horse arrives this Tuesday, February 17.
Happy New Year, my friends.

I’ve thought about this post for a couple weeks now, reflecting on power and grace, two attributes of horses that I admire and wish to manifest in 2026 and beyond.

Power
Brené Brown and others distinguish between power to and power over. We all have power to–to act, influence, resist, etc.–to various degrees in certain contexts. But not everybody has power over, and right now in the US we witness our government exercising its power over people and systems in brutal and unconscionable ways. Consider those in authority who have exercised power over you–parents, teachers, bosses, administrators, police–we know when they wield their power abusively. It is an intuitive and visceral knowing, whether we admit it or not.

So as concerned members of society, called to stand up for our fellow humans getting traumatized on a daily basis, where does our power to lie, as individuals, groups, and communities? Peaceful protest is one. Also “grassroots guerilla support systems”, as novelist and poet JP Greene calls them. He writes further in last week’s newsletter, Stomaching the American Lie, “It looks like local butcher shops feeding people for free when SNAP benefits get cut. It looks like neighbors getting to know neighbors and community gardens and mutual aid networks and communities that guard and teach and raise up their children collectively.” Where could it lie that we haven’t noticed?

No one will be surprised when I submit that our power to also lies in connection across difference. The polarization we witness that stems from the most extreme voices on any topic feels insurmountable. Those of us on either side who recognize the nuggets of truth among our opposition’s positions may feel powerless to change the prevailing narrative on our own side that demonizes and dehumanizes the other–a narrative that benefits nobody. To dissent feels like an exercise in futility.

Connecting across difference and finding the ‘you have a point’ moments feels like giving power away, no? But concensus, however small, builds power and momentum to move and merge attitudes and then policy meaningfully. It requires patience, humility, openness, empathy, and honesty. How many of us view these traits as strong, as conferring power to those who wield them? If we think in terms of power over, then humility and empathy can feel weak. But if we wish to engage and challenge civilly, to explore, invite, and nudge people to loosen their strongly held biases and rigid positions, to change the narrative on both sides from ‘vanquish the enemy’ to ‘get to work and solve problems for real now’, then humility, patience, empathy, honesty, and integrity may be the most powerful skills we can call forth. These are the heaviest tools of power to when it comes to effecting consequential human change.

Grace
Few animals evoke a sense of gracefulness more than horses. Their anatomy and movements are a wonder to behold. How can we emulate this essence in our own being, in service to one another?
What does it mean to be graceful, and to ‘give others grace’?
What does this grace feel like in our bodies?

Consider elite ballet dancers and master diplomats, arguably the most physically and verbally graceful among us. How do they train? What traits do they present? Commitment. Discipline. Consistency. Perseverance. Core stability and strength, flexibility, and agility. Mental, physical, and relational resilience. Graceful people exude groundedness and focus. Their nervous systems are both regulated and responsive, alert and attuned, yet slow to agitation and impulsivity. Their energy de-escalates those around them. They exemplify ‘strong back, soft front‘. They move with fluidity and make it look easy, and we want to follow. To exert influence with such minimal apparent effort, to possess such efficiency of energy for impact–that is grace.

Power and grace are analogous to strong back, soft front, which is how I wish to live. Unassailable principles and core values rooted in honesty and integrity, presenting as openness and invitation to connection and relationship. The latter entails vulnerability, which requires courage, which is a form of strength and power. These qualities all intersect and mutually amplify in a personal ethical ecosystem that thrives on the exponential synergy of human connection. How inspiring!

How do we choose to move forward this Fire Horse Year, in our own lives and as a collective? Besides power and grace, what other energies do you wish to exude?
How will living this way benefit you and those around you?
When we look back at the dawn of the Fire Goat Year in 2027, how will we say we have lived?

The Power We All Have

Thinking about power: Our power to impact others and vice versa. What if we were all more aware, even by a little, of the impact (or potential impact) we have on any/all people we meet, even in the smallest, most transient encounters? What if we were all just a little more reverent to that profound (I think it’s profound) power and potential–how would we be and do differently?

Power To, as Brené Brown says. To make someone’s day a little better or a little worse. To hold people up or cut them down. To lead by example, to foster connection, to make a difference.

Sometimes Power To becomes Power Over, when our attitudes, behaviors, words, and actions hold influence over others and cause harm, even without our intention or knowledge. This reality holds particular importance today, on Mother’s Day. As many of us celebrate moms and their awesomeness, some are reminded of less than stellar maternal-child experiences. Parents hold so much power, and too often we wield it mindlessly.

Our families of origin shape us in ways that can last our whole lives. We also have agency to walk our own paths, however challenging it may be to loosen those family ties. It often takes a fair bit of inner work, to say the least, and I’m convinced we can almost never do it alone. From childhood on, it’s our best relationships with other humans, family or not, that save us. Those who love and support us, who tell us the truth and require the same from us, who hold us accountable to our own values and integrity, and who stay by our sides despite our faults and errors, save us.

“Tell me about your emotional support network,” I ask patients every year. I’m always a little sad when someone doesn’t quite understand the question. I celebrate when someone tells me how it’s stronger now than before.

I don’t expect that we spill our deepest secrets to strangers, or that we share personal things with everyone in our circles. I just wish for us all to walk around with a little more humility, curiosity, generosity, and kindness by default. What assumptions do we make about our fellow humans on the street? We show up differently when we assume everyone is out to con or harm us, from when we think we are all here doing our best, taking care of ourselves and our families. What if we meet people remembering that we all benefit from a little more empathy and understanding, and setting a goal to provide that for one another, even in the smallest ways?

How much can and do you impact those around you?
I bet it’s more than you realize.

Holding the Work

I procrastinate writing this post. I worry how it will be received. I may anger some, offend others, and invite unpleasant backlash. But now that I write it out, as if I said it out loud, that fear abates. How fascinating–naming a fear helps dissipate it. That’s an important practice for the work we hold ahead.

“Question your own fears.” —Monica Guzman, Braver Angels, A Braver Way

Monica Guzman is my hero. Watch the video of her talking about how our fears of what’s in other people’s hearts harms and divides us. Listen and feel her passion, her struggle to stay compassionate to all people, and her distress at how people she cares for now suffer from Trump being elected. Listen to her courage in vulnerability, expressing hope that despite the deep divisions all around, we can still connect across our differences and not destroy ourselves. And know that she has a point of view–she takes a political side. She just doesn’t approach opponents as adversaries.

Monica inspires me to recommit to the work of bridging our political divides, real and perceived. I understand the election was only a few days ago and some people’s pain and distress are still raw. I know some don’t care or want to bridge anything, at least not right now. That’s okay; this post may not be for you. But I’m ready. I hear the call and I’m answering now.

From Instagram

I had a lovely conversation today with a man I’ve known for some years. Our relationship is fun, trusting, and honest. He asked me how I am with the election and I told him I’m very much not okay. He felt great about it. We each described why we feel our own ways, listening for each other’s personal experiences and impressions of the candidates, the parties, and the people around us. I live on the south side of Chicago; he in northwest Indiana. I’m in medicine; he’s in construction. I’m a 51 year-old East Asian woman; he’s a 67 year-old white man. Our life experiences and world views diverge widely. We also have no problems connecting as humans. We both lamented how so few people we know can conduct political discourse calmly and respectfully. We agreed on multiple social issues. Our conversation prompted me to seek data about maternal mortality since Roe v. Wade was overturned. I shared with him and we both learned. It was a meaningful and satisfying conversation, and we agreed to continue. I don’t intend or expect to change his political leanings. I want to understand him, and I want him to understand me. I want us to deepen our relationship, practice healthy political discourse, and bring what we gain from each other back to our own circles. This is how I will make a positive difference in our political culture and landscape.

All people who voted for the other candidate are not evil, or sheep, or whatever name we want to call them. I know how good it feels to say they are (see Brené Brown quote below), and it absolutely does not make anything better. We each get to choose how much contact we want with people who are different from us. Often they cannot be avoided, and then we still get to choose how we interact. We each have power to influence and impact any relationship we touch. Will we be connectors or dividers?

I observe that my fellow progressives are often the ones actively dividing. Cancel culture rages on the left, rife with judgment in minimal interaction, overgeneralization and oversimplification based on assumption and association. I see value in calling out overtly racist and misogynist attitudes and behavior, but public shaming does little to educate, enlighten, or alter anyone’s mind. It just drives their biases underground, only to resurface later. It alienates, inflames, and perpetuates conflict. Judging and throwing away a whole human being based on one fact about them, no matter what that fact is, feels antithetical to a progressive, inclusive ethos to me. And, it is a totally understandable human response to severe moral distress. For those of us committed to bridging, we must learn, practice, and train in self-awareness, self-regulation, and effective communication to mitigate that relationally counterproductive response. We must ground ourselves in openness, curiosity, humility, generosity, empathy, and kindness. These are not mutually exclusive to holding fast to our values, convictions, and causes.

I have many days yet this month to delve into particular skills. For now I can simply sit with a renewed commitment to non-adversarial change agency. This is the Work. I have learned in safe spaces, with people who will not throw me away or belittle me for my beliefs. It’s easy when it’s easy, and it’s how I show up when it’s hard that counts. But I can’t show up competent when it’s hard unless I have practiced–done the drills, entrained the muscle memory, prepared for the harder challenges. So I embrace the test of encounters during the next administration. This is what I have trained for. So I say bring it, I can do this relational stuff better and better, and I can lead by example like Monica Guzman. I still have a lot to learn, and as we say in medicine, see one, do one, teach one–and I’d add–repeat, ad infinitum.

If you’ve read this far and you’re neither offended nor ready, thank you for holding your own space. We can each/all only do what we can, when we can, and how we can.
I Hold the Work for Us to bridge our differences for all our benefit, whatever, whenever, and however we can each make our contribution.

There is hope.

From Facebook