Hello again, dear ones. Welcome back (or for the first time, for those who have recently joined) to the monthly Resourcing the Revolution newsletter.
I’ve been thinking a lot recently about something someone shared on Substack, about the staggering number of shades of green the human eye can discern. If I’m being honest, “a lot” is pretty much every time I look out my kitchen window… or step outside… or my gaze wanders out my studio window while I’m working…
The trees each have their own personalities, and it's never clearer than in early spring, when their leaves are just starting to emerge.
The new oak leaves come back to life with a muted, dusty rose-bronze before settling into green. The vivid, almost electric chartreuse of the striped maples that seem to glow from the inside out when the sun finds its way into the understory. The sugar maples, with their softer, paler yellow-green, almost like a variation on lime. The bronzy (almost copper-tinted) sheen of the black cherry trees that eventually deepen into their truer green. And the matte finish of the witch hazels is more like a quiet, warm sage green.
As I watch spring erupt across the mountains here, it fills my heart the way no other season can. Don’t get me wrong, I love me some fall and winter, too. But there’s just something about the green so fresh it almost hurts to look at after the muted landscapes of winter.
I did a bit of digging, and it turns out the human eye can distinguish millions of shades of green. The exact number depends on a few things, including lighting and contrast (and the individual doing the observing).
Maybe it’s my graphic design background, but it makes me want to study each green in depth, sitting with each of them until I can almost taste their essence. I want to sit, immersed, and take in the nuance and personality of each one.
But, you know. Life.
It makes me wonder if our ancestors, as they foraged and survived in a world full of green, felt the same way. If they felt moments of awe as the world woke up out of winter each year and found its way back to verdance and vibrance.
And then there’s the state of the world at large. In ways large and small, it feels an awful lot like the best we can do is just stay afloat and survive — if you believe most of the narratives being spun.
From foraging and surviving… to scrolling and surviving. How far we've come, and yet here we are, feeling like everything is coming undone around us.
Lizard brain, activate!
So, instead of sitting in the direct path of the firehose of “the world is falling apart” narratives, this month my invitation is to turn our attention to what’s next.
The world’s ripping apart at the seams? Structures and systems crumbling around us?
Yes, and.
I look to the trees. To new growth after a long, harsh winter. To the dandelions growing through the cracks of a broken sidewalk.
If you turn down the volume on the outer narrative and listen closely, you can start to hear the sounds of a new world dawning. Of the seeds breaking open in the darkness, ready to push through and eventually unfurl their tiny leaves to greet the sunshine.
Of the acorns that will eventually become the mighty oak. And the spring green that reminds us this, too, shall pass.
Let’s imagine the new world, shall we?
Quote of the Month: Dream Up Something New
If you haven't come across Ash before, she writes a (sweary) newsletter that I’ve honestly read for longer than I can put a date to it, probably on the order of a decade?
She writes in the marketing space, but this section of one of her recent newsletters feels like exactly what wants to come through this month.
“This is the #1 thing you can do right now to feel good about the work you are putting into the world: make sure it is good work, that it is real work, that it is unforgettable work, that it is exciting work. Human beings are designed to make things, and so much of the joy of starting a business or growing your company is about what you make for the world, with your own two hands, with your ideas, with your vision, and with your voice.
Every day, someone writes me from my newsletter and talks about how lost they feel. Do you know what the answer is? You go make something. Now. Urgently. It's the most underrated cure for existential despair there is. Doesn't matter if it's a wreath or a web app or a newsletter or a brand-new business: you feel untethered because you ARE untethered. You need to create. Making things will make you feel whole again.”
That feeling of being untethered? As it turns out, the sky this month has a name for it, and a different kind of invitation — creation as anchor, creation as compass.
The cosmos, it seems, has a message for us as we dream the new world into being.
Astrology of the Month: Dream the Deep
Yet again, Wizard’s Watchtower over on Substack comes in with just the right words from the sky to meet this moment. Sedna — a slow-moving minor planet beyond Neptune’s orbit named after an Inuit goddess — meets Uranus in Gemini this week.
His weekly wrap-up is written as a guide through current world politics, and it so beautifully captures what it means to be human in times like these, through the lens of the myth of Sedna and the astrology of the outer planet:
"As we sit with all this and wonder what on earth we’re meant to do with it - how to be a person inside a week like this one, how to keep going when the news is doing what the news is doing - may we remember there’s only one thing the sky is asking of us right now.
It’s asking us to let go of the side of the boat.
Not the world. Not the people we love. Not the work that matters, or the values we hold, or the future we’re still trying to build. Just the boat - the old structure, the old way of carrying things, the old belief that survival depends on clinging to a form that is already breaking apart in our hands. [...]
This week, the practice is small and simple. Once the news has told us what we need to know, put it down. Go outside and touch the earth - literally, with our hands, with our bare feet on the ground - because the earth is Sedna’s older sister and she remembers everything. Drink water slowly and let it remind us what our bodies are mostly made of. Cry when the crying comes, and let the grief move all the way through, because the grief is not a malfunction, it’s the deep rising through the new wiring. Rage when the rage comes, and let it be holy, because the rage is the same current. Rest when the rest comes, because the nervous system is being rewired and rewiring is exhausting work, and there is no version of this where pushing through serves the becoming.
And when fear comes - and it will, because fear is what the old world feeds on, and the old world is desperate right now - return to the simplest possible truth. The sky is doing what the sky does. The deep is rising on schedule. Sedna is being remembered, and we are the wire she is rising through, which means we are not separate from the reckoning - we ARE the reckoning, in the small everyday gestures of refusing to throw what’s heavy overboard. In refusing to discard our grief, our knowing, our love, and the parts of ourselves and each other the old world told us we couldn’t afford to carry. [...]
The deep is destined to rise, and though it feels it, we are not falling - we are being received."
We are being received. Which brings us to the most important question of this moment: received into what, exactly?
Idea of the Month: Dream Anyway
Those seeds cracking open in the darkness, the new world waiting to break through the soil of what’s crumbling — that’s what this moment is asking us to build.
Everything I understand about this moment tells me we’re not emerging into utopia. Not yet. This year has already been hard. (These past few years.) And, much as I’d love to tell you that change is just around the corner, I’d be doing us all a disservice.
Sprouts are starting to poke through the surface, yes. Here and there, signs of the new world being born. But, still, all around us the reality of the old world falling. Great worlds don't fall in a day any more than they're built in one.
When we find ourselves in moments like these, our work is to remain in it (for however long it takes). To maintain our connection with each other and our humanity. And to dream the new world as hard as we possibly can.
True revolution isn’t just about what we’re against — it’s about what we’re building in its place.
What you long for, deep in your heart? That’s not selfish. It’s the blueprint for everything that grows out of this moment.
Our vision for the future, our intentions, and (most importantly) our actions… those are what lay the foundation for what’s next and begin to build the bridge that will eventually get us from here to there.
We may not know exactly what “there” looks like, but my guess is you can already feel it when you give yourself space to pause, to sit with hope, and to open yourself to the creative possibilities within you.
The new world doesn't arrive fully formed. It's built in small moments of refusal — refusal to give up hope, to stop creating, to stop caring.
Every time you make something, tend something, dream something forward, you're planting another seed. Growing another root, another quiet shoot reaching toward the light.
We don’t need to have all the answers. But we do need to stay curious, stay connected, and keep building, one small, deliberate act at a time.
Your longing is the compass. Your creativity is the material.
And together, we grow.
Photo of the Month: Dream in Shades of Green
Even the evergreens are dreaming what's next
Short Practice of the Month: Our Ally in Dreaming
This month’s practice is simple, and you can do it from wherever you are.
How to do it:
Look out your nearest window — or better yet, step outside. If you're in a city, a houseplant or a tree glimpsed through glass works just as well.
Notice how many shades of green you can find. Don't count. Just look.
Let your eyes move slowly, the way they would if you had all the time in the world.
Notice the difference between the old growth and the new. The bright and the muted. The translucent and the opaque. The green so fresh it almost hurts.
Stay with it for as long as it holds you.
When you find your way back, notice how you feel, body and mind. The natural world is always there, just waiting for us to connect. As we’re dreaming up the new world, she’s one heck of an ally.
Post of the Month: Dreaming as We Go
Back in 2012, I wrote a post about what it’s like to figure things out as we go. I had just gotten back from the second World Domination Summit (WDS) in Portland, Oregon, and hit the wall of real life, “this same shit again?”
And as we sit with the uncertainty of this particular moment, it feels just right for reminding myself (and all of us) that this, too, shall pass.
"I have come to realize that it’s not about the knowing – certainty is nice and all, but I think that it’s the journey of discovery that ends up being the important part of our lives.
So much of my life over the past several years has been about learning and growing, living passionately, and figuring it out along the way. I may never be completely comfortable with not having the complete picture, but I do know that being able to see every day of the rest of my life is NOT what I’m interested in. I’m learning to love the adventure. So, for now, I’m settling back into the everyday.
My dreams are still as big as ever, and I’m figuring out how to make them come true, one day at a time. I hope that you are doing the same."
Speaking of dreamers…
Song of the Month: For Every Dreamer
The first time I heard the song Waiting for Love by Avicii, I knew it was destined for the newsletter.
Where there's a will, there's a way, kind of beautiful And every night has its day, so magical And if there's love in this life, there's no obstacle That can't be defeated
For every tyrant, a tear for the vulnerable In every lost soul, the bones of a miracle For every dreamer, a dream, we're unstoppable With something to believe in
I keep coming back to the line, 'in every lost soul, the bones of a miracle.' If there's a single thread running through this entire edition, it's that.
What looks like being lost is often just unformed, yet to unfurl. What feels like crumbling is often waiting to be composted before it can nourish what's yet to be.
For every dreamer, a dream. With something to believe in.
We’ve got this.
Mindset of the Month: Dreaming Is Resistance
So if your longing is the blueprint for everything yet to come, how do you know if you’re on the right track?
That’s where the body comes in. (Of course it does.)
Joy? Pleasure? Aliveness? That hell yes from deep in your bones? That’s actual data, letting you know when you’re headed in the right direction.
Your body becomes more than the flesh-and-bones recreational vehicle you ride around in while you’re on this mortal coil — it becomes the navigational system guiding the whole expedition. As you envision the new world yet to come, you follow the body’s longing (not the mind).
Despite the messages society might send, the marketing onslaught telling you you’re broken or not enough, or even that shitty little voice in the back of your head…
You were never meant to live disembodied from joy.
In an era where empire is beginning to crumble around us, joy is resistance. Rest is resistance. Embodied being is resistance. The collective is resistance.
Dreaming (and acting) the new world into being… is resistance.
So as we continue to bring the new world into being, I’ll leave you with a few questions. Maybe you feel called to sit and journal with them. Or maybe you just plant them as seeds, giving them space in the darkness of the subconscious for when their time is right.
As you feel into the new world that wants to be birthed through you:
What makes you feel most alive? Where does your embodied desire want to lead you? What possibility have you quietly stopped believing in?
And, what if that possibility is actually the future, asking you to remember it into being?
And Together, We Dream
As we close this month’s edition, seeds are already cracking open. The roots are doing their work — underground, invisible, essential. And somewhere just below the soil, new growth is reaching toward light it hasn't seen yet but somehow, inexplicably, knows is there.
That's you. That's us. That's this moment.
So keep dreaming. Keep building. Keep showing up — one small, deliberate act at a time.
The new world is being born in the spaces between. And you and I, dear ones, are part of its becoming.
Until next time: rest, then rise.
P.S. If this edition stirred something in you, or if those closing questions opened a door you want to walk through, I want to point you toward the Building Resilience workshop bundle.
Specifically, at the very end of the workshop, we did a visioning exercise that aligns so beautifully with everything we’ve delved into here that I just had to share it.
It's a two-part process: first, you journal your vision of the new world you want to bring into being (in full five-sense detail). Then, through a guided meditation called Centering in Four Directions, you take that vision out of your head and ground it in your body. You leave not just knowing your vision but able to embody it.
You’ve tried so hard. You’ve held it all… the family, the work, the world… and somewhere along the way, you started to disappear. You move through your days shadowed by exhaustion, haunted by the quiet ache of Who am I, anymore? This is where you begin to remember. Resourcing the Revolution is a quiet space for those ready to rebuild from the inside out. One breath, one story, one truth at a time. Each week, you’ll receive a grounded reflection to help you slow down, reconnect, and reclaim your energy, your voice, and your sense of self. The real revolution isn’t out there. It’s inside. In the pause. In the breath. In the remembering.
