From ICE to Fire: Awakening the Courage to Begin Again in the Face of constant Chaos

It is only in the space of compassion that miracles can truly happen.
And don’t we need miracles now more than ever?

The weight of this moment feels undeniable. Division runs deep—within families, between communities, across entire nations. We feel it in the news, in the silences, in the strained pauses of conversations with those we love. But even as the cracks seem to widen, I believe there is something greater calling to us: the possibility of healing, of accountability, of remembering our shared humanity.

It is only in the space of non-judgment and non-harm that we can shine light and breath on these wounds, process our pain, and begin to heal the disconnection we feel within ourselves, with one another, and with our beautiful, aching world.

Compassion is not the easy path—it’s the brave one.
It calls us to look within first:
To admit fault.
To confront the stories, biases, and fears that have kept us stuck.
To release what does not serve and begin again.

This invitation to “begin again” is at the heart of the very first yoga sutra, Sutra 1.1: Atha yoga anushasanam—“Now, the practice of yoga begins.” The moment we choose to take that first step—whether it’s after a fall, a setback, or the heaviness of our current world—we are invited to begin again. No matter how many times we forget, no matter how far we wander, we can always come back to the present, to our hearts, to the breath. In every moment, we hold the power to start anew.

And it asks us to go beyond ourselves:
To stand accountable for the harm we’ve caused.
To meet others not with judgment, but with curiosity and care.
To hold space for pain—even when it’s messy, even when it’s hard.

This is the radical reframing the world is pleading for. Not a quick fix, but a transformation. A willingness to stretch beyond the smallness of ego and into the vastness of connection.

This is the courage it takes to cut the cords of blame and righteousness, to lay down our swords and tend to our shared wounds. It is the courage of surrender—not as weakness, but as strength. The strength to admit that we cannot fix this world alone. The strength to hand over our fears, our failures, and our hopes to something greater than ourselves.

When we trust—when we soften—we begin to see clearly:
We are not enemies.
We are not alone.
And we are the miracles we’ve been waiting for.

It is no small thing to embody this truth. To live each day as a living miracle is to choose compassion over cynicism, love over fear, connection over division. It’s brave work. Necessary work. Sacred work.

The urgency of our time cannot be ignored. The fires rage and the ice melts—the world around us burns, quite literally and figuratively. Our neighbors, our families, and entire ecosystems are ravaged by climate change and environmental destruction. And as we witness the political landscape in turmoil, our rights, our dignity, and our humanity are under constant threat. From the cruel and inhumane practices of ICE tearing families apart to the rising violence against our most vulnerable, we stand at the precipice of something far-reaching. The divide is widening, and too many of us are caught in the middle, feeling powerless, disconnected, or defeated.

The fires we are facing are not only the literal ones that destroy homes and lives but the fires of division, hatred, and fear. These fires burn within us—within our hearts, our minds, and our culture. And the cold, isolating winds of fear and cruelty that accompany these fires threaten to freeze us in place, making us doubt that any action or love can make a difference. But we are not powerless. We are the ones who can counter the fire and the ice.

This is where our compassion is needed most. This is where our commitment to yoga and to healing—at the level of the self and the collective—becomes the antidote to the fear and violence that threatens to undo everything we know and love. As we sit with the pain of our world, we are asked to stay rooted in the wisdom of the heart. Not to run from the fire, but to meet it with love. Not to allow the cold of isolation to freeze us into inaction, but to hold space for warmth, for healing, and for accountability.

It is with this in mind that I had the honor of working with a courageous group of students involved with SAPA (Sexual Aggression Peer Advocacy) at Central Michigan University just this past weekend. SAPA is a volunteer-driven, para-professional organization providing advocacy, education, and outreach around issues of sexual aggression—including sexual assault, intimate partner violence, harassment, and stalking. These students are not only trained in empathetic listening, crisis intervention, and advocacy skills, but they also serve as a source of strength and healing for individuals who’ve been affected by trauma.

What I witnessed this weekend was nothing short of awe-inspiring. These young leaders choose, day in and day out, to stand for others—offering confidential advocacy, support, and education in the face of an overwhelmingly challenging culture. One student shared something that stayed with me: "Sometimes, I feel so helpless. With everything happening in the world right now, it feels like a small drop in a sea of suffering. It’s hard to know if I’m really making a difference."

How many of us can relate to that feeling of smallness in the face of overwhelming injustice and suffering? In a time when we are bombarded with news of violence, oppression, environmental collapse, and political division, it’s easy to feel like our individual actions can’t possibly matter. But here’s the truth: we are not small. We are powerful. Even in the face of our own fatigue, even when we’re overwhelmed by the enormity of the world’s pain, we have the power to choose. Every single one of us has agency. Just as the students I worked with this weekend embody this courage in their advocacy work, we too can choose to act, to speak, and to make a difference, no matter how small it might feel.

These systems, this tyranny, this lack of leadership—this is all designed to wear us down. To make us feel that we are powerless. To keep us in a cycle of fear and hopelessness. But we are bigger than these systems. We are the change we’ve been waiting for. When we come together, when we choose to move from a place of compassion and love, we create a ripple effect that transforms everything it touches.

In every moment, we can choose to begin again. We can choose to trust. We can choose to love. We can choose to act—not because it’s easy, but because it’s necessary.

The world is calling us to stand in our power. To embody compassion in real time. To meet each other, and ourselves, with openness and love, no matter how hard it gets. The work is not simple or quick, but it is sacred, and it is ours to do.

We are not here to deepen the divides. We are here to heal them.
To step into connection, accountability, and a love so radical it transforms everything it touches.

The truth is, we are the miracles the world needs.
Each one of us.
And when we live that truth—when we embody it with our whole being—miracles happen.

May we have the courage to surrender.
May we have the courage to believe in our own sacredness.
May we have the courage to love each other, fiercely and tenderly, into something better.

Every. Single. Day.

💖 If this piece resonated with you, I’d be so grateful if you hit that heart button. Your support, whether through a click or a comment, helps spread these messages of courage, compassion, and collective action. It expands my reach, supports my writing, and reminds me that the simple act of love is more powerful than we often realize. Every little bit counts in building a community that dares to begin again, together. Thank you for being here and for sharing in this journey of hope and healing. 💖