Silhouette of a person standing quietly in front of a large window, looking out over a city at dusk as soft twilight colors fade into the horizon.

Photo by Ben Blennerhassett

This year has been wilder than most.

Uncertain in ways that feel both global and deeply personal. Marked by loss—of people, of safety, of illusions we may have once held about progress, protection, or care. It’s been a year shaped by ongoing genocide, by systems that hoard wealth while communities are left to ration breath, shelter, and grief. A year where the gap between what could sustain collective life and what is actually shared feels almost unbearable to witness.

There are days I wonder if any of this work, this resisting, this caring makes a dent at all.

And then something small happens.

An adult and a baby lying side by side on a textured floor, smiling at each other, sharing a quiet moment of connection and joy that conveys warmth, care, and presence.

Photo by OPPO Find X5 Pro

My nephew giggles, full-bodied and unguarded. A dear friend’s son laughs as he tries to eat my finger, his joy entirely unconcerned with the world’s cruelty. I take a call from a friend who is walking alongside her best friend’s illness with a courage that isn’t loud or heroic, just steady and loving. Watch the therapists at the practice dedicate themselves to give good care to their clients. And in those moments, I see my privilege clearly as a responsibility.

I notice the small wins. The moments of connection that didn’t have to exist, but do. The ways we show up for each other not because it’s efficient or recognized, but because it’s human. I know many of us try to give back as much as we can against those that seemingly only take. And many of us are unsure how far that reaches. Even when we can’t measure the impact. Even when the world keeps asking for more than any one of us can carry.

A person resting their head on folded arms at a desk with a closed laptop, appearing exhausted or overwhelmed in a quiet workspace, with soft natural light and everyday office items nearby.

Photo by Vitaly Gariev

Liberation, I keep reminding myself on those days when I feel overwhelmed… (oof, lawd), is not a destination. It’s work. Constant. Relational. Often unglamorous. Sometimes invisible. It asks us to stay awake to harm without becoming numb. To care without burning ourselves into ash. To act even when certainty isn’t available.

Today, I’m tired.

Are you?

A person walking alone down a snow-covered city street toward a large suspension bridge, framed by brick buildings and falling snow, evoking winter stillness, endurance, and movement through a cold, quiet moment.

Photo by Andre Benz

As we move toward the shortest days of the year, I’m holding onto that truth as both metaphor and permission. The dark doesn’t mean we’ve failed. It means we’re in a season that asks for rest, for gathering light where we can, for preparing ourselves for what comes next.

More light is coming. Not the kind that erases what’s been lost, but the kind we can learn to use with grace and power. The kind that lets us keep going. The kind that reminds us that even now, even here, choosing care is an act of resistance.

I hope you get some rest.

Tanisha Christie stands against a bright blue background, smiling warmly with her hand on her hip. She wears a black long-sleeve top, and her long, twisted locs fall over one shoulder.

Tanisha Christie, LCSW (she/her) is the Founder and Practice Director who champions the liberation of individuals through the acknowledgement and affirmation of their stories. With a collaborative, holistic, and directive approach, Tanisha guides clients toward healing. Her extensive experience includes roles at Mount Sinai Hospital, the Ackerman Institute for the family and private practices, offering specialized expertise in polyamorous and couple relationships, executive coaching, and clinical supervision.


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When the Days Get Shorter: Seasonal Affective Disorder in Fall