Glennon Doyle

And whatever that is for us, whatever is the thing that brings us to life, whatever is the thing that reminds us that life is worth living, because if life isn't worth living or celebrating, then the grieving doesn't matter and the marching doesn't matter.

So the night, for me, this doesn't happen at night because I'm asleep, but this is a metaphor you see, so I can change the times.

But

The dance is the thing we hold on to so that we remember each morning why all of this matters and why to grieve and why to work.

And there's something about that holy trinity of grieve, work, dance that I think is the way forward.

We cannot work our way through this.

Like, good luck.

It has to stop every day.

Like, it has to be something...

that is done each day.

And by the way, the work doesn't mean you're marching.

Whatever the work is for you is that.

But I feel like, for me, I have to really do all of those things every day in simple ways.

And sometimes the grieving is like, I'm going to paint my picture and just feel.

And sometimes the work is a phone call or a project or something that is about collective good.

Sometimes something with the family, but it's something that's about getting outside myself and working towards the collective good.

And then the dancing is always something like, do you remember that activist in the, which I think this, it was the longest running vigil our country's ever had that just ended.

But this man started a nightly candlelit vigil by himself in front of the White House during the Vietnam War.

And every single night he would go there and stand with his one little candle, just by himself, just stand there.

And the media finally caught on and came to him and said, what are you doing here every night?