What does it mean to hold strength, not as domination or endurance alone, but as a force for collective transformation?
This week, during my full moon ritual I pulled the Strength card from my Pagan Otherworld’s tarot deck. I love the imagery of a woman subduing a bear, not with brute force, but with an unseen force from within. A reconceptualizing of what Strength can mean ensued for me…
“Ruled by Leo, Strength invites us to embrace what frightens us with an undefended heart and befriend something that scares us. It teaches us that when we approach something that elicits fear, that makes us drop into our courage.
If we approach what we fear with an undefended heart, the thing that we most fear will melt and get a little closer to us. With ourselves, it can be powerful to approach and embrace something that scares us within ourselves with an undefended heart. Because of its ruling by Leo, Strength asks us to lead heart first toward what scares us.”
from Tarot For the Wild Soul, Lindsay Mack.
Strength (n.) The influence or power possessed by a person, organization, or country.
As we navigate the collapse of late-stage capitalism, we find ourselves drifting into a something even more insidious: white supremacist techno-feudalism. I’ve been grappling along with all the other challenges of living and mothering within climate collapse while trying to maintain healthy relationships, how do we make sense of this moment? One defining feature of fascism is its weaponization of anti-intellectualism: the elevation of the uninformed into positions of power, the deliberate devaluation of expertise. We see it in the gutting of education, reversals of inclusion and equity, in the dismissal of years of study and deep engagement as elitism, in the rise of leaders who believe instinct alone can replace knowledge.
Inner work, self-reflection, emotional fluency are all vital pieces to the puzzle of living, but there is a stark difference between knowing and performing knowing. Packaging anti-intellectualism as authenticity is a dangerous game when misinformation has become currency, and ignorance is glamorized as virtue. We do not suffer from an excess of expertise, we are drowning in unchecked confidence masquerading as competence. The question is whether we can place our trust in those who have spent their lives honing their craft, deep in the work of understanding the myriad of things what we do not instead of buying into individualist thinking. I am glad we have each other’s skills, talents, expertise, and curiosity to rely on and that we, as individuals, do not need to know it all.
This week, in our All We Can Save climate circle, we read Advocate, the chapter chronicling the years of activism, research, dedication, and relentless effort that shaped legislation and policy like the Green New Deal. To sit with the stories of the passionate folks engaged in that work, to witness its depth, and to hold the grief of how far our political climate has strayed from any capacity to enact Earth-saving policy is both sobering, heart breaking, and galvanizing.
I’ve located strength in the simple yet ancient act of gathering in a circle. Here, power is not imposed from above but shared, passed voice to voice. In a circle, we witness, we listen, we remember that no one moves alone, each of us holds the sacred space to process all that is too much to integrate alone. I’ve found such a balm in holding space online every few Sundays, to unmake isolation and weave a sense of solidarity, understanding, the quiet force of collective will from this chaos. In bearing witness with others who see the world as it is and still choose to engage. In the circle, we can see the accelerating climate issue through the diversity of lenses, experience, expertise we each bring.
“Diversity fosters social coherence, creating more stable and harmonious relational networks, which in turn lead to more stable and harmonious societies. Additionally, the more diverse a group or community, the greater the perspectives and innovations that arise and the greater the success rate for all. Human diversity is just as critical to society as biodiversity is to an ecosystem; without it there can be no healthy functioning. The loss of diversity within mainstream systems and structures has left a fracture in our societies that must now be healed, through the purposeful and systematic inclusion of diverse voices, including the voices of the natural world, within social dialogue.”- Sherri Mitchell
Strength (n.) a good or beneficial quality or attribute of a person or thing.
As the Leo Full Moon illuminated the skies, I felt a surge of courage rise within me. Watching Kendrick Lamar’s artful performance stream into millions of homes, breaking open consciousness and into conversations about what it means to be Black in America. The layers upon layers of symbolism and strength. I witnessed the audacity of a man standing firmly on his name, his talents, his truth, in the face of fascism.
I felt our ancestors dancing in pride and jubilation. And then, the question emerged, one I believe we will each have to answer: What do you stand on?
We live in capitalism. Its power seems inescapable. So did the divine right of kings. Any human power can be resisted and changed by human beings. Resistance and change often begin in art, and very often in our art, the art of words. - Ursula K. Le Guin
How do we transmute rage and anguish into artful resistance, into a force that expands our capacity for material and social change? The culture shapers, the groundbreakers, the ones who pour years into their craft, only to have their work dismissed, devalued, imitated by those unwilling to engage with its depth.
Yet here, we stand. On the knowledge and spirit passed down through generations. On the second and third consciousness carried by those who have had to navigate dominant culture while holding fiercely to their own. Here lies our strength: in the survival intelligence of Black, Indigenous, and other marginalized communities. Those who have mastered the fluency of power while never forgetting the language of their own lineages.
Strength (n.) the quality or state of being physically strong.
I never grew thinking about being strong. I played sports in grade school and high school but not with any intensity or vigor; I wasn’t aggressive enough because I didn’t really care. Doing a yoga teacher training after dropping out of graduate school became a place for me to reconnect with my body in a new way. During my teacher training, I became pregnant with my daughter. I had one foot in as I stepped into an unknown of motherhood. But yoga for me was always about the union of mind and body.
Cultivating flexibility in my body and mind and cultivating a clear headedness. Last March, I stepped outside of myself, my preconceived notions about what I needed or what I could do and into a workout group. I’d put it off for months, not thinking weight lifting was for me. I was a yoga girl. I’ve joined 8 other people every Monday for nearly a year for stability and weight training and it has been the most transformative experience. I find a resolve and connection and trust in my body. It tests the edges of my perceived strength, leaves me sore and wanting more.
Through this process of testing my limits, I find in other areas of life, I move from my core, in the most literal and figurative sense of that description. In the movement, I know who I am, what I can do, and all else is tested against this embodied sense. I have more resilience and stamina to face external challenges, seemingly unrelated to strength training. But it is here the yogic principles return to me and I realize, this practice too, is yoking my body and mind in a different way. Strength is more than what we can carry but the ability to move through challenges from the core of our being.
Strength (n.) 5. The number of people comprising a group, typically a team or army.
How do we move forward without being driven by reactivity and fear? How do we root ourselves in intention, investing our focus where it matters? The path ahead is not set in stone. We are shaping it now, with every choice, every conversation, every act of resistance.
True communion is not built on homogeneity but on the richness of our differences, a shared purpose that declares: enough is enough. We are ready for change, but readiness alone is not enough. We must move together, not just in sentiment, but in action.
Until the systems reflect transformation, let us stop pretending we are not all bound to this capitalist machine, unless, of course, you hold the generational wealth, the white privilege that allows you to step outside the game entirely. But even then, security is never neutral. Interrogate its foundation. On whose backs and lives was your stability built? What inequalities sustain your comfort? And are you willing to unmake what benefits you at the expense of others?
Because our strength is not just in numbers, it is in tapping into the potency of collective will, in the courage to dismantle what no longer serves us, and in the shared labor of building something new.
“We can’t leave people behind. If we leave folks behind, our progress will be fragile and flawed.” Mary Anne Hilt
If we are to move forward with intention rather than fear, we must ground ourselves in wisdom that challenges, expands, and deepens our understanding of what it means to be in true communion with others. The first chapter of All We Can Save featured an essay by Sherri Mitchell and her words resonated deeply for everyone in the group. Her book Sacred Instructions offers a blueprint for remembering our interconnection, for resisting the forces that seek to divide and extract, and for reclaiming a way of being rooted in reciprocity and justice.
I recommended this book to my friend, Holly Rose, who shared “it was exactly what I needed, this has loosened some knots. It’s also helped me identify and start working on some hierarchal shadows in me that I didn’t catch yet, mainly around anger and conflict.”
Mitchell’s words remind us that transformation begins within but must extend outward, into the systems we build and the relationships we nurture. If we are to stand together in strength, we must first learn how to truly stand with one another.
I’d love to know in the comments what is your relationship with Strength and what it means to you during these times. Comment below if you would like to join an online circle for Sacred Instructions in April, and I will add you to my list.
with all my love, Alyson
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Thank you so much for this piece. I’m interested in the sacred instructions circle if it’s still possible to join.