This morning, I stood in the heat on the steps of city power.
I showed up to the No Kings Day protest alongside drummers, medics, elders, neighbors, movement workers, and quiet kinds like me who usually feel overstimulated by sound systems, megaphones, and too many bodies pressed together.
But I also knew I needed to be there.
Not out of pressure or perfectionism.
But because something in me needed to plug back into the current of collective care.
So I went — and I left when I needed to.
I walked with the crowd, then drifted to the side.
I stood in the light, then found shade when my nervous system asked for it.
I practiced what I teach:
Self-regulation in community, not isolation from it.
And the medicine I received was unexpected:
I made friends with three older women who offered me cashews and pistachios and a place in the shade. One of them — Phyllis — was a former therapist. She told me it was her birthday today. She told me it felt awful to share her birthday with a horrible human who’s attacking our democracy and leaving such a violent legacy.
And my words of comfort to her struck me like a tuning fork to the chest:
“Your birthday helps balance the scales. You are the light. Thank you for being here.”
I wasn’t trying to be poetic. I was just telling her what I saw in front of me.
I also recognized it’s not always a normal thing to offer your birthday to the world — to bring your light forward and let it spill into the cracks.
And in that moment, it clicked.
Protest doesn’t always feel regulating. But collective truth-telling does.
And being in the light — even when the world feels dark — is a form of nervous system nourishment.
🛁 If You’re Feeling Fried After Showing Up
If you're needing protest aftercare, or just trying to process the weight of it all — you're not alone.
Whether you were in the streets today or following along from your phone, your nervous system may be carrying a lot right now.
The noise. The grief. The rage. The heat. The joy. The hope.
The cognitive dissonance of soft skin in a sharp-edged world.
That’s why we’re holding a virtual nervous system care space on Monday, June 16th, and you’re so welcome to come.
✨Recharge Room: A Soft Space for the Overstimulated
🕔 Monday, June 16th | 5 PM PT | LinkedIn Live
👥 Co-hosted with millennial burnout coach Jayci Gibbs
🎟️ Free and open to all
We’ll explore:
What overstimulation really is (and why it's not your fault)
How to respond to freeze and overwhelm without shame
Gentle somatic practices you can use even when you’re shut down
Collective grounding, community care, and fluid movement
No pushing. No pressure. Just a space to recalibrate and come back to yourself.
👉 RSVP here to join us
(or just show up on LinkedIn — we’ll be live and soft with you either way)
💌 For the Rest of This Weekend
Here’s what I’m personally practicing to be kind to my nervous system:
Letting myself lie down in strange places when I need to
Drinking more water than I think I need (and adding electrolytes for extra nourishment!)
Pausing before I post — letting my body speak first
Holding the softest, brightest space in my heart for Phyllis and her birthday today, and how she showed up like a lantern
Letting the good stuff land. Even when it’s fleeting.
What are you doing to tend to your body this weekend?
No guilt, no gold stars. Just listening and responding with care.
Feel free to reply and share — I love hearing what’s keeping your battery charged these days.
See you Monday if your system says yes.
With softness and solidarity,
Lauren xoxo
P.S. I’ve made a Protest Aftercare Mini-Guide if you’re interested. HMU in the comments if you’d like me to post it next or send a PDF.