Maybe I should have known when I tried to dye my red hair blue and it turned black. I should have read the signs, but even with my hair foreshadowing, I was hopeful that Kamala would win. Around 11 pm on Tuesday night, as my husband and I lay in bed watching the election results, I gripped his arm and said in a panic, “What are we going to do?” I don’t remember his reply because I let myself spiral out in that fear for a few minutes. Then I realized this is where I need to use all the love I’d been preparing for this election. I took a deep breath, decided to snuggle up under the covers, let things unfold, and just be in the moment. I fell asleep soon after.

On Wednesday, I awoke to the sound of my husband, Eric, getting dressed to take Sadie May out, which is usually my job. As soon as I heard him, I knew that Trump had won. Only worry would have him up and dressing so early. I lay in bed listening to Eric shuffle around, waiting for dread and fear to overtake me. Instead, a voice in my head said very clearly, “We are going to be okay.”

I got out of bed and began working on my computer downstairs, but I could feel my husband's despair through the ceiling. I texted him, “Would you like to walk our adorable dog into our cute downtown and have breakfast? Let’s just ease into this day. It’s going to be okay.” It was a beautiful fall day here. The temperature was in the 60s, and we were surrounded by an explosion of autumn colors. Eric and I tried not to talk too much about the election, but inevitably it slipped in. How could it not? What we’re experiencing feels HUGE. It feels like a revolution, the dissolution of a system that isn’t working. I know both sides want change, even if we believe differently about what that means and how to get there.

After breakfast, Eric, Sadie, and I made our way home, full of eggs and French toast. I talked to Eric about my need to move forward with love during this crisis. I have protested, I have raged, I have confronted people head-on, but at this point in my life, I feel I have less rage to share and more love.

Eric isn’t so sure that’s what will work. “We need fighters sometimes,” he said. “With all the violence that has been promised, we need people who can combat that.” I agreed, but that is not my role today. When Trump was elected in 2016, I decided to focus on what I could do locally to improve southwest Virginia. I started a nonprofit. I lobbied at the state capital. I helped expand access to acupuncture in Virginia. I did small things that I hoped would have a large impact.

As I’ve learned more about the 5 Needle Protocol, the treatment we use on our mobile clinic, I’ve come to understand the revolution it grew out of. I’ve learned about the revolutionaries who created real change in New York City in the 1970s. While Eric and I walked today, I explained to him the different roles members of the Black Panthers and Young Lords played in making that change. There were fighters, teachers, organizers, healers*, nourishing cooks, and more—a complex structure of people and roles that forced change.

People on both sides of this political mess feel a need for revolution. We’re all hoping for change. Instead of wasting energy on social media discourse, why not build a framework that lets people share their best selves to achieve a common goal: a more just and equitable society serving ALL people? We’ll have to get off our couches and shut down our phones. We’ll have to listen to people who give us the icks, while we try to figure out their vision of America. We’ll have to work together to remodel our nation. While my role is to love, nourish, and heal, Eric’s is to build and empower others to learn these skills. My friend Lee will gather the stories and connect people through them. My friend Holly will nourish us with amazing food, filled with love that will warm us from the belly out. 

Revolution is not easy work. It’s way more complicated than changing your hair color. It is years of work, both minuscule and grand gestures adding up to change. Revolution is the slow return of light as we focus our energies on peeling back dark layers hiding the truth to heal the nation we love. It’s waking up post-election day, having breakfast, and finding the role you want to play as we move forward in this uncertain time. It’s about more than changing red to blue. It’s about saving a nation.

Healer is a complicated word. I don’t usually use it regarding myself because it’s often associated with gurus and egocentric providers. In this reference, however, using it to refer to the work of the Young Lords and Black Panthers in their takeover of Lincoln Hospital in the 1970s is appropriate. The Oxford Dictionary defines a healer as “a person who seeks to cure diseases or heal injuries by means other than conventional medical treatment.

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