What is May Day, and how do we stay committed to change without burning out? Bruce Springsteen offers us an invitation to consider how we think about activism, hope, “tragic optimism,” and how we stay grounded and engaged in difficult times.

When someone’s worldview feels impossible to understand, curiosity can feel out of reach. We can jump to our own certainty, expanding the gulf between us. Instead, how do we move from judgment to compassion? And how can small shifts in the ways we listen and ask questions transform these difficult conversations?

How do we enter deeper into hard conversations and challenging relationships? This method offers a simple, practical pathway to staying calm, listening deeply, and responding with care. Especially in the midst of crisis, these are the tools that help us embody the future we want to experience.

The myth of the “heroic activist” tells us that change is driven by extraordinary individuals – but history reveals a different story. Real transformation happens through communities: connectors, creatives, researchers, educators, and builders working together. Meaningful change depends on collective action and each of us can find our own roles in shaping it.

Burnout is common in activism – but it doesn’t have to be. When we stretch ourselves and ensure enough support, we can find actions that challenge us without overwhelming us. This simple Support-Stretch Matrix framework can help us find actions that fit who we are in this moment.

What did Joanna Macy mean when she said we were in the “Great Turning?” This framework for navigating crisis and creating meaningful change breaks down into three specific paths: slowing harm, building alternative systems, and shifting our collective consciousness. If you’ve been wondering what you can actually do in the face of global challenges, these three buckets are a good place to begin.

Craftivism can have real impact – this is a story of how a group of makers shaped change and helped win a living wage for 50,000 workers at Marks & Spencer.

Feeling overwhelmed by the news and politics often lands us in the “guilt gap” — the space between wanting to do more and feeling too exhausted to act. But taking small actions can move us beyond it, while building real community power and impact.

In moments of political violence, grief, and exhaustion, big solutions can feel impossible. But our small acts of care create the conditions for connection, resilience, and change. They embolden us to reconnect with our dignity and remind us we’re not alone.

In times of political crisis, silence and reading news in our own bubbles can feel isolating. But when we engage in a politics of care, we ask questions of our communities and we take the courageous steps of being the ones to speak up.

Protests matter – but they don’t create lasting change on their own. Building relationships, understanding how power moves, and taking small, strategic actions where each of us are – doing the slow work – is what created webs of relationship that can bring sustainable change.

December can feel like a nonstop sprint – holiday pressure, social obligations, year-end demands, and constant noise. But winter tells a different story. Instead of being overwhelmed and frenzied, the winter invitation is to slow down, attune to our bodies, and metabolize the year as we move toward Spring.

Music, imagery, and all forms of creativity expand our imagination, give language to emotions we can’t yet articulate, and offer new ways of seeing the world. Art doesn’t just inspire – it influences movements and strengthens the everyday activism that shapes our shared future.

What does it mean to be a good ancestor? And how do the stories we carry—liminal, loving, and lethal—shape our lives and future generations?

It all begins with an idea.

We often make small compromises—staying silent, keeping our heads down, choosing comfort over conviction. But these choices shape our communities in powerful ways. Drawing on lessons from Václav Havel’s 1970s story of the greengrocer, we are invited to defy systems of control and reclaim our agency.

In a time of political division and personal disconnection, turning toward our ancestry can help us heal. Understanding our lineage—its beauty and brutality—can help us become more grounded, resilient, and courageous in facing today’s fractured world.

In Portland, protest looks a little different—think inflatable frogs, naked bike rides, and dance parties. This is “tactical frivolity,” the radical tradition of using humor, art, and absurdity to deflate authoritarian power with joy and community.

In a world flooded with headlines, it’s easy to forget the people behind the stories. Every crisis, policy, and tragedy has human lives at stake – and these are our people. When we view each other as common to us, we are invited to reconnect with empathy, awareness, and action in how we read and respond to the news events of our day.

During WWII, the French town of Le Chambon-sur-Lignon sheltered 2,000 refugees from Nazi persecution. Led by ordinary citizens, their quiet defiance offers timeless lessons in resilience, shared values, and collective resistance against authoritarianism.