Celebrating the Carnation Revolution: Fascism Will End

Flowers in the Barrel: Portugal’s Carnation Revolution and the Work of Our Time

In my adopted country of Portugal, April 25th is more than a date. It is a living memory — a reminder that the world we long for can crack open suddenly, when ordinary people choose to act together. (See this video for a quick summary: https://youtu.be/pVO-89_eTPo)

Fifty years ago, after decades of dictatorship, censorship, and endless colonial wars, a generation raised under repression chose another path. Soldiers and civilians alike refused the old script of fear. They stepped into the streets not with weapons, but with music, arms linked, and red carnations placed gently into the barrels of guns.

The town of Tavira, April 25, 1974

And in a single day, a dictatorship collapsed.

Today, as many countries move sharply to the right — with explicit authoritarianism gaining ground in places like Hungary, Venezuela, and beyond — Portugal’s Revolução dos Cravos reminds us: despair is not destiny. Small acts matter. Collective courage matters. Imagination matters.

The thread of dignity, love, and fierce refusal runs through us still.

We know this to be true

Authoritarianism thrives on despair.

Repressive systems want us to believe nothing can change — that resistance is useless, that no better future is possible. But the Carnation Revolution shows otherwise: change may seem impossible until it suddenly isn’t.

Collective action is powerful.

In Portugal, resistance had been building quietly for years: workers striking, artists creating coded songs, families sharing forbidden books. On April 25th, all those small threads wove together. Together, they became unstoppable.

Portugal’s Carnation Revolution reminds us that even under brutal conditions, people can organize for freedom. Movements across history show how collective courage and nonviolent resistance can dismantle systems of oppression.

A child places a carnation in the barrel of a gun, photo staged to celebrate the 1974 revolution in Portugal

Connection and joy sustain and transform.

Isolation feeds despair. Community, creativity, and celebration feed hope. Music, dance, laughter, and shared meals are not luxuries — they are part of the foundation that sustains movements and mends weary hearts.

Symbols and imagination nourish movements.

A flower in a gun barrel did not end the dictatorship alone — but it became a visible sign that another way was possible. The world needs beauty, joy, and vision as much as strategy and grit.

Songs, flowers, poems, marches — these signs of resistance help people remember who they are and what they long for. They keep imagination alive when propaganda tries to flatten it.

Remember: the fall is only the beginning.

Toppling a dictatorship is not the end of the work. Real change depends on what comes next: repairing harm, rebuilding trust, and nurturing freedom with patience and skill. As in Portugal, building democracy is an ongoing journey.

Civilians joined with soldiers, riding on tanks in the streets of Lisbon

Try It

1. Learn from movements for freedom.

Study histories of nonviolent resistance, collective action, and everyday courage. The world has been changed again and again by ordinary people daring to act together.

2. Nourish yourself through connection and joy.

Build relationships with others who care about dignity and justice. Seek out art, music, laughter, and practices that sustain your spirit for the long journey.

3. Pay attention to the signs and symbols of hope.

Look for the helpers, the stories, the songs, and the small acts that signal another world is possible. Share them. Celebrate them. Let them remind you what we’re working toward.

4. Prepare for the long, unfolding work.

The fall of a regime is only the beginning. The real work is building something better afterward. Stay rooted. Keep tending the world you want to grow.

Remember that you belong to a lineage of courage. Those who came before us also struggled, faltered, wept, and chose to keep going. Their victories — great and small — are a legacy we carry forward.

You are whole, holy, and worthy,

Rev. Amy

Holding On to What is Good

Holding On

What does it mean  to hold on—especially in times of chaos and fear? There’s no shortage of challenges in our world, and whether they’re global or personal, we all face moments when it feels like we’re being pulled under by the currents of uncertainty, panic, or rage. But holding on is not just about surviving; it’s about thriving, as best we can. Holding on is about finding strength, grounding, and meaning in the midst of the storm.

Nancy Wood’s words resonate - repeating in my head:

“Hold on to what is good, even if it is a handful of earth. Hold on to what you believe, even if it is a tree which stands by itself. Hold on to life, even when it is easier letting go.”

The Author's Garden (Garlic in February) Photo by Hawthorne Post

Hold on to Earth

What does it mean to hold on to a handful of earth? It means grounding ourselves in the tangible and the sacred. The earth is our anchor. When chaos swirls, take a moment to feel the ground beneath you. Let it remind you that you are connected to something greater. The soil holds seeds of renewal and reminds us that even in our darkest winters, life is waiting to bloom again.

The earth is our anchor. When chaos swirls, take a moment to feel the soil between your fingers, the coolness of a stone, the steady weight of the ground beneath you.

What is true? Are you still here in this moment? Still breathing, heart still beating? Say to yourself – I survived another day. Yahoo! That’s worth holding onto, recognizing, and celebrating.

Hold on to Spirit

What about holding on to what you believe, even if it’s a solitary tree? Sometimes, holding on to your faith or values can feel isolating, like standing alone in a storm. Yet, that solitary tree is resilient because its roots run deep. Tree roots connect and communicate with other tree roots. Similarly, we can draw strength from our own roots—our spiritual communities, our relationships, and our connection to what we hold holy. We have other roots. We come from people who survived. They may have lived through horror or hardship or just the struggle of daily existence. These roots keep us steady when the wind howls.

In these moments, the wisdom of Mr. Rogers comes to mind: “Look for the helpers.” Holding on does not mean holding on alone. When chaos strikes, we find our strength not only within but also in the hands of others. Community is the antidote to fear. When you feel like letting go, let someone else hold on for you. When someone else is struggling, be their helper.

When you feel lost, I invite you to slow down for a moment. Notice who your helpers are. I used to notice my dog's soft ears, and now I look for a cat to plop in my lap. When I worked in a hospital, I'd take a detour by the babies' window. Do you have a formal or informal spiritual companion? A favorite TV show? I invite you to write these down. You can come back to this list in moments when you forget. 

The Author's Garden (600-year-old Alfarroba) Photo by Hawthorne Post

Hold on to Love

This truth is echoed in the music that uplifts us. The song “Hold On” by All Good Things reminds us to keep moving forward: “We’ve been walking through the fire, but we’ll make it out alive.” It’s a battle cry to resist the undertow of despair. Katie Nichole’s “Hold On” echoes a similar theme: “Hold on just a little bit longer. Help is on the way.” These songs remind us that even in our lowest moments, possibility is closer than we think.

As the American coup unfolded, I was overwhelmed (I still am as of this writing). Then a fragment of song wafted through my mind. I didn't remember it all, but the music was sweet. And enough of the words were clear: the words to the Nancy Wood poem, "Hold on to what is good," and for a moment, everything softened. Sometimes, love shows up like that.

What is a good that you hang into? Earth, air, fire or water? Human, animal, vegetable, or mineral? In “Something Good” from The Sound of Music, Julie Andrews and Christopher Plummer sing about love despite running from dangerous Nazi recruiters. Yes, even in the midst of life’s chaos, beauty and goodness still exist and may emerge from within. When we stay open to possibility, we make space for something good to find us, even when we least expect it.

Hold on to Life

Hold on to life—even when it is easier letting go. Holding on is not just about endurance; it is about holding on to joy, to those moments of light that break through even the darkest days. A baby’s smile, unguarded and full of wonder. The scent of rain on dry earth. A song that lifts your heart. These are not small things; they are the very things that tether us to life itself. Joy is an act of resistance, as Toi Derricotte reminds us—not because the pain isn’t real, but because it must not be all we know.

Let joy interrupt the sorrow. Let laughter insist on being heard. Let beauty demand its place, even when grief feels overwhelming. To hold on to life is to make space for all of it—the struggle and the sweetness, the sorrow and the song. This is how we resist the undertow. This is how we hold on.

What is something good you can hold onto right now? A memory? A song? A breath? Name it. Let it be an anchor.

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Hold on to One Another

Let’s return to the final lines of Nancy Wood’s poem:

"Hold on to my hand, even when I have gone away from you."

Even when the world feels uncertain, love does not vanish. The strength we have shared, the kindness we have offered, the hands we have held—all of it remains.

So how do we resist the undertow in times of chaos and fear? We hold on. We hold on to the earth, steady beneath us. We hold on to each other, trusting that we do not have to do this alone. We hold on to love, even when it feels distant. And we hold on to the sacred, knowing that something greater than fear is always present.

When the waves rise, let’s reach for one another. Let's ask for help and let’s be helpers. Let’s remind each other that this moment, this heartbeat, this love, matters.

Beloved, you are whole, holy, and worthy. Blessed be.

Rev. Amy

Holding the Light: Peak Experiences

Peak, Flow, Plateau: Holding the Light

Many years ago, I traveled to the island of Vieques, Puerto Rico, and had an experience I will never forget. A small group of us sat quietly as our boat slipped into the lagoon on a dark night, heading toward the bioluminescent bay.

Then—oh! A flash of blue-white light beneath the water—a fish passing by. Far from the lights of houses and the military base, the boat stopped, and we slid into the water. We were giggling like children, giddy, ecstatic. The water glowed with every movement. Fingers trailed through it like golden ribbons. Droplets gleamed like tiny stars as they fell from our hair.

We were weightless. Time stopped. And I knew—beyond thought or reason—that I was a part of those microscopic, glowing water-creatures, and they were a part of me. We were flowing with the ocean, and the dance lived in us.

To this day, the memory of that place fills me with joy.

" Bioluminescence while kayaking at night " by Marco Verch 👨‍🍳 via ccnull.de , CC-BY 2.0

The Challenge of Returning

Moments like this—what psychologist Abraham Maslow called peak experiences—can transform us. He described them as "rare, exhilarating, deeply moving experiences that reveal a more expansive reality." Some call them mystical. Some call them magic.

Peak experiences are closely related to the psychological state of flow, where you are fully immersed in what you are doing, a sense of effortlessness and rightness carrying you forward. Unlike peak experiences, which are often sudden and intense, flow can be sustained—an ongoing sense of being in harmony with life. Plateau experiences are quieter still—moments of deep peace and wholeness that arise from living in alignment with your values. Each of these—peak, flow, and plateau—can nourish us in different ways.

A central quality of these experiences is at-one-ness—a deep sense of interconnectedness with all that is. Hindu philosophy speaks of Atman, the formless being into which we are all absorbed, like drops of water merging into the ocean. The Buddhist metaphor of Indra's Jeweled Net describes a vast web where each jewel reflects all others, illustrating our interdependence. Science, too, reminds us that our actions send unseen ripples into the world. This profound awareness of unity can sustain us and give us courage, just as it did for Gandhi.

Bringing the Experience Home

So how do we integrate a peak, flow, or plateau experience instead of chasing after it or letting it slip away?

1. Honor It. Speak of it, write about it, let it live in you. These moments are real, even if they can’t be fully explained. (See also this post on Stories in spiritual direction.)
2. Find Small Anchors. A song, a scent, a symbol—something that helps you return, in spirit, to what you felt. For me, hearing Ode to Joy brings me back to a moment when music cracked my heart wide open.
3. Allow It to Change You. You don't have to force life-altering decisions, but notice what the experience is asking of you. More openness? More presence? More awe?
4. Share It with the Right People. Not everyone will understand, and that’s okay. But finding a community, or spiritual compaion, that does can help the experience take root.
5. Accept the Ordinary. Life is made of both the mystical and the mundane. Learning to carry the peak experience within daily life allows it to become a source of ongoing nourishment rather than a lost high.
6. Trust the Unfolding. A peak experience is like a stone dropped into water; its ripples continue to shape your journey long after the moment itself has passed.

• 

Meaning and Action

Mahatma Gandhi’s courage to change the world was founded in his deep belief that he was part of the whole. These beliefs arose from his peak experiences, giving him both the motivation and the power to act.

Our own peak, flow, and plateau experiences can support us in becoming more wholehearted—deeply engaged with life without being broken by the pain in the world. They remind us of what is possible. They root us in what is real. They sustain us when we need to keep going.

Living in the Glow

Not every moment will be luminous. But you have been lit up before, and that light doesn’t leave you.

You don’t have to cling to the past or chase the next high. The experience lives in you. Like bioluminescence that glows with each motion, like a song that echoes through memory, it moves with you.

So I invite you to reflect:

• What moments have illuminated your life?
• How do they continue to shape you?
• What joyful or meaningful thing is giving you life as you slog through the overwhelm and pain of the world?

Your journey unfolds, and you are whole, holy, and worthy.

Rev. Amy

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A Guided Meditation for Integrating a Powerful Spiritual Experience

Let's begin by finding a comfortable position, whether seated or lying down. Gently close your eyes, or soften your gaze. Allow your body to settle, releasing any tension you might be holding.

Simply notice your breath. Feel the gentle rise and fall of your chest or belly. With each breath, invite a sense of calm to wash over you.

Now, bring your awareness to your the lowest part of your body. Feel the connection between your body and the ground beneath you. Imagine roots extending down, reaching deep into the earth. Feel the stability and support of this connection. Allow these roots to anchor you, grounding you in the present moment.

Next, bring your awareness back to your breath. Simply notice the gentle rhythm of your inhale and exhale. Notice how each breath connects you to the flow of life, a constant, gentle current that moves through you.

Now, let's bring to mind a moment of profound connection. It might be a time when you felt deeply at peace, a moment of intense joy, a sense of being completely in the present, or a feeling of unity with something greater than yourself. It might be a time when you were in a state of flow, completely absorbed in an activity. It might be an experience, where you felt completely at one with the world.

Allow this memory to surface gently. You don't need to analyze it or understand it fully. Simply let the feeling of that moment wash over you. Notice the sensations in your body. Perhaps a warmth, a lightness, or a sense of expansion.

Feel the connection between this memory and the present moment. Know that this feeling of connection, of flow, of at-one-ness is always available to you, within you. It is a part of your being, a natural state.

Now, bring your attention back to your breath. Simply notice the gentle rise and fall of your chest or belly. Feel your roots grounding you to the earth.

When you're ready, gently begin wiggling or contracting muscles to become aware of various parts of your body. Slowly open your eyes, and come back to awareness of this place and this time.

Blessed Be

Finding Meaning in a Troubled World

Finding Meaning in a Troubled World

The world today feels increasingly fraught with challenges: the rise of fascism, the marginalization of vulnerable groups, the erosion of democratic rights, and the escalating climate crisis. These realities can leave us feeling overwhelmed, anxious, and even hopeless. But amidst the fear and uncertainty, there are ways to find meaning and cultivate resilience.

One such path is through the power of spiritual direction.

Spiritual direction is a journey of deep listening and accompaniment that helps individuals explore their inner lives, deepen their connection to something sacred (whether that be God, nature, community, or a deeper sense of self), and find meaning and purpose in their lives.

In times of societal upheaval, spiritual direction can offer:

• A space for reflection and processing: It provides a safe and supportive environment to grapple with the complexities of the world, to acknowledge our fears and anxieties, and to find ways to integrate these experiences into our lives.
• A renewed sense of purpose: By connecting with our deepest values and exploring our callings, we can find ways to contribute to a more just and equitable world.
• A deeper sense of connection: Spiritual direction can help us cultivate meaningful relationships with ourselves, others, and the world around us, fostering a sense of community and shared responsibility.

Spiritual direction work helps you find your compass and your courage. Now is a great time to refine your ethical convictions and to uncover what is most important to you. What are you willing and able to commit to? How can you love into your most authentic and best self?

How to Get Started:

If you're interested in exploring spiritual direction, I encourage you to check out the resources listed below. I've also included a link to free weekly meditations that I offer.

Artist Misha Tyutyunik, also known as MDot, created the design. Two River, NJ community members painters. Matthew Brys, Photography

Beyond Spiritual Direction:

Spiritual direction is just one way to find meaning and make a difference. Other ways include:

• Activism: Engaging in various forms of activism to make a meaningful impact on society. You don’t need to do all the things, just do the work that is yours. This can include:
• Civic Involvement: Participating in activities like voting, running for office, volunteering for campaigns, or joining local committees to influence policy and governance.
• Protests and Making a Statement: Joining peaceful protests, marches, and demonstrations to advocate for causes related to justice, equality, or environmental protection, raising your voice in solidarity.
• Organizing and Supporting Groups: Working with or supporting grassroots organizations, unions, and movements that focus on systemic change, especially those led by marginalized groups with experience in activism and social change. These groups often have a strong track record of creating positive impact.
• Don’t Comply: take a page from the CIA handbook on fighting authoritarian governments by practicing “I don’t think so”, “I can’t help” , and the slow walk. Being incompetent at doing immoral or unlawful things is a virtue.

• Community Building: Fostering connections with others in your community, finding your spiritual community, and collaborating through mutual aid to create networks of care and uplift. We need everyone to survive. The ann ient teaching is to “love thy neighbor,” so, ask yourself who is my neighbor?
• Service and Caring for Others: Contributing your time and resources to support others, whether through direct service (e.g., caring for the homeless, mentoring, providing food or shelter) or through advocacy for vulnerable communities. Offer help to those you can help, and ask for help from those who can help you.
• Create Art and Joy: Express yourself creatively through art, music, dance, or any form of self-expression that brings you joy and contributes to collective well-being.  By creating beauty and celebrating life’s moments, you nurture yourself and others, reinforcing the power of creativity in both personal and collective transformation. As Emma Goldman said, “If I can’t dance I don’t want to be part of your revolution.”
• Self-Care: Prioritizing your own well-being through practices such as mindfulness, meditation, and spending time in nature to recharge and sustain your efforts for long-term change. Ask for help. This is a relay race, not a marathon, and certainly not a sprint.

Remember, you are not alone in this. Many people are deeply concerned about the challenges facing our world and are actively seeking ways to create positive change. By connecting with others, cultivating inner resilience, and taking action, we can work together to build a more just, equitable, and sustainable future.

You are whole, holy, and worthy... We need each one of us to survive,

Rev Amy Beltaine

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To find a Spiritual Companion, visit http://AmyBeltaine.info or https://shorturl.at/pr0ue or http://UUSDN.org 

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