Photo taken by Anna Del Castillo
Created by Anna Del Castillo
Acknowledgments: All the Black women and genderqueer people who teach me about collective liberation and healing justice. To name a few: Audre Lorde, Prentis Hemphill, Cole Arthur Riley, Adrienne Maree Brown
“Our feelings are our most genuine path to knowledge.”- Audre Lorde
“Rest can feel like a risk when the world is aching. But exhaustion and disembodiment will not save us.” -Cole Arthur Riley
Historical and Cultural Context:
One year into witnessing the genocide in Gaza from Washington, D.C., I find myself feeling spiritually and physically exhausted. Like many, I’ve attended countless protests, actions, and vigils — grieving the tens of thousands murdered and standing together in the community to demand justice and peace. Yesterday, I spoke at a demonstration outside the White House, sharing a message of accountability and an urgent call to action. As I held the bullhorn and felt the energy of the crowd, I felt a deep connection and solidarity interwoven with profound sorrow and fatigue. Later, when I made it home, the soreness in my feet mirrored the weariness in my soul.
The morning after the protest, I wondered: What do we do with the reverberating emotions left in our bodies?
I love live music. The day after a concert, I often feel aches from dancing and a temporary ringing in my ears, a condition called tinnitus. This occurs when loud music damages the sensitive hair cells in the ear, leading to a persistent ringing even after the sound is gone. Similarly, the day after a protest, we experience a kind of “tinnitus of the soul” — intense emotions like grief, anger, pain, and connection that continue to pulse through us. We feel the intensity of it all, and then we experience an emotional comedown. For some, this comes with a vulnerability hangover: Did I say the right thing? Did I take up too much space? Who did I upset? Am I safe? What was the point of it all? Will anything change?
Wherever you fall on this spectrum of emotions, one thing is clear: we all feel something. And unlike the day before, when we were surrounded by people, the day after, we are usually alone.
Beloved, in your solitude, in your processing, in all that you feel, may this practice help you replenish, so that you can move forward with strength toward whatever comes next.
How I’ve adapted this practice: Below you will find a simple practice: to listen to music and let your body move and flow.
How to Lead this Practice:
Step 1: Take 60 seconds to pause and sit with this question: What song do I long to hear?
Step 2: Take 30 seconds to close your eyes, take three deep and cleansing breaths, and repeat this line aloud: “May I listen with the attention of my heart.”
Step 3: Play the song and allow your body to move and flow freely.
Step 4: At the song’s end, place a hand on your heart and repeat this line three times:
“I am connected to the symphony of life around me.”
Nourishment for After the Protest
To protest is to give—we give of our bodies, our voices, our time, and our witness. Our energy as human beings is not infinite. It comes from a source that must be replenished. As important as it is to show up in the name of justice, it is equally as important to nourish ourselves after the action.
From Plato to Kahlil Gibran to Aretha Franklin, people throughout history have known that music is the language of the soul. Music has the ability to move us from our thinking brains, highly analytical and often critical, to the deeper parts of our soul’s wisdom, where messages from our ancestors and our deep knowing reside.
I invite you to think about a song that resonates with how you are feeling in this moment: perhaps it’s a song that sparks joy, or sadness, or lightheartedness, or intensity. Take 60 seconds to pause and sit with this question: What am I longing to hear?
Prepare the device that will play your song, and before you press play, take 30 seconds to close your eyes, take three deep and cleansing breaths, and repeat this line aloud: May I listen with the attention of my heart.
Now, play that song, spin the record, turn it up! Let your body flow, truly flow. No one is watching you, you are alone with your divinity, your spirit, your precious being. Dance, sway, move, let your body guide you as you allow the energy within you to move freely.
Dancing is a pathway to our ancestors, our heritage, our deepest knowing. It is prayer in motion.
As the song ends, if you are able to, I invite you to place a hand on your heart. As you feel your heartbeat, think about your community, the people who surrounded you yesterday, the artist whose song you just listened to, all the people who have ever danced, and sit in a moment of deep connection.
Repeat this line three times:
I am connected to the symphony of life around me.
I am connected to the symphony of life around me.
I am connected to the symphony of life around me.
Links to articles/resources to deepen this practice:
Creator’s Bio: Anna Del Castillo (she/ella), MDiv is a creator and facilitator on the journey to build spaces and resources for collective healing. A graduate of Harvard Divinity School, Anna serves as the Co-founder of Our Own Deep Wells: Awakening Soulful Practices for Wellbeing. She is always looking for friends and partners! Connect with her on LinkedIn, her website annadelcastillo.com and Instagram @ourowndeepwells
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