When We Become the Fire
A Meditation by Rev. Cameron Trimble
“You were born with wings. Why prefer to crawl through life?” —Rumi
On Saturday, across the United States, millions of people gathered in the streets. They marched with banners and babies, with wheelchairs and megaphones, in sneakers and sandals. They came from churches and synagogues, classrooms and kitchens, showing up not just to protest—but to protect. They came to declare, with their bodies and voices, that cruelty will not go unchallenged, that democracy still lives where people are brave enough to practice it.
This weekend wasn’t just a political event. It was a spiritual one.
Many of us hold deep respect for the people who serve in our military (just as we do our teachers, diplomats, academics, and peacekeepers). Just think of all of the deeply respectful ways we could have honored their history and service on this anniversary. Instead, the administration staged its attempt at a military parade styled after “strongmen” domination, hoping to normalize the sight of tanks and troops in our cities. It was tasteless, triggering, and tactical. But something more powerful happened. The people simply outshone it, not with spectacle, but with spirit.
That’s worth celebrating.
It reminded me of an ancient story from the Tibetan Buddhist tradition about the Dakinis—spiritual figures who are part guardian, part teacher, part holy disruptor. They’re not the kind of saints who sit quietly on shelves. Dakinis are the ones who arrive when systems get stuck, when wisdom has become brittle, when the sacred has been reduced to control. They don’t ask for permission. They dance, they shout, they tear the veil between worlds so we can see more clearly.
In traditional stories, Dakinis often appear at moments of great cultural transition. They show up when something has died and something new is trying to be born—but the old guard is still trying to hold on. They don’t bring easy answers. They bring clarity, movement, and fierce compassion. They bring disruption that heals instead of harms.
This weekend, I saw Dakini power everywhere.
It was in the older woman who stood in the heat for hours holding a sign that said, “First they came for the immigrants and we said NO!”
It was in the teenage boy who handed out water bottles with shy determination.
It was in the trans pastor offering prayers and medical aid in the middle of the crowd.
It was in every person who didn’t look away, who didn’t stay home, who brought their body and their breath and said: “Not in my name. Not on my watch.”
In that sense, we became the Dakinis.
We are the ones arriving in this moment of collapse—not with hate, but with courage. We come not to burn things down, but to light the way forward. What happened this weekend matters, not because it changed policy (yet), but because it changed us. And that, too, is sacred.
So if you feel tired this week (I do!), let it be the holy kind of tired. Let it be the kind that comes from having lived in alignment with your values, the kind that says: I showed up. I was there. I gave what I could. I danced the fire into being.
And we will keep showing up, because the Sacred doesn’t only live in temples and texts.
Sometimes, it marches.
Sometimes, it chants.
Sometimes, it just stands still—unmoving and unafraid—while the world around it begins to shift.
We are in this together,
Cameron
Reflection Questions
Where did you feel the presence of something greater than yourself this weekend?
What part of your own fear did you leave behind when you showed up?
What new courage, clarity, or connection was born in you?
A Prayer for the Day
For Those Who Walked the Way
Spirit of Fire and Breath,
You moved through our bodies this weekend.
You walked with us in the streets.
You whispered when we were afraid,
“You’re not alone.”
Let the fire we carried
not burn out, but burn through—
lighting up the courage we’ll need
for all the days ahead.
Make us the people
who keep showing up.
With love.
With boldness.
With grace.
Amen.
Spiritual Practice
Channeling Fierce Compassion
Not all of us marched this past weekend. Some of us bore witness from afar, in other countries. Some tended to children, or grief, or Shabbot. Some lit candles in quiet defiance. Others offered prayers, poems, or simple acts of care in a world that feels increasingly brittle. No matter where we stood, this truth remains: resistance to injustice is a collective, living field. And you are part of it.
Today’s practice is not about geography. It’s about presence. It’s about cultivating the kind of fierce compassion that does not rely on proximity to be powerful.
So find a quiet space. Breathe deeply. Let your awareness land not in the noise, but in the undercurrent—the place where grief turns into clarity, and clarity into commitment. Then ask yourself:
Where is fear trying to divide me from others?
Where is love asking me to risk a deeper connection?
Where, in my own life, can I stand more firmly for the dignity of another?
You do not need a megaphone to change the world. You need a rooted heart, a courageous spirit, and a willingness to align your ordinary life with extraordinary love. Let your body become a prayer. Let your daily choices become their own protest against despair. And wherever you are in the world, remember: we are many voices, one chorus.
Let your part ring clear.
Upcoming Events That Might Be of Interest…
SOLD OUT!!! July 20-25, 2025 - The Art of Wilding: A 5-Day Expedition in Wyoming for Women Leaders. Click here to learn more in case you want to come next year!
August 11, 2025, 2pm ET - Dr. Andrew Root and I will be hosting a 6 part series on Spirituality in the Secular Age based on his research. The dates are August 11, 18, September 8, 15, and October 6, 13. Mark your calendars! More on this soon.
September 4, 4:30pm ET - I will be collaborating with the Anderson Forum for Progressive Theology to host a conversation with Thomas Jay Oord on Open and Relational theology. It’s a FREE event. Register here.
October 15-18, 2025 - Converging 2025: Sing Truth Conference (all musicians invited!) at Northwest Christian Church in Columbus, OH. Register here!
I drafted a Strategic Framework for Congregations as we move into the coming years of increased authoritarianism around the world. If interested, you can download it here.
If you are a leader or member of a congregation looking for consulting support in visioning, planning, hiring or staffing, please consider Convergence.
'Bearing witness from afar' - will claim that as my role. Brilliant signs and celebratory resistance! Renewed courage, clarity, and connection! Thank you.
Cameron, I have been reading your meditations ever since Chuck Wildman, my UCC friend from my Yale Divinity School days, told me about your ministry. These last several months I have been copying many of your thoughts and putting them into an ever-increasing file, but today's I will keep out on the desk to read over and over. I spent 45 years in ministry in the Chicago area and got very connected with a lot of people and projects. When Sally and I retired to St. Louis a few years ago to be near our children and their families, we began looking for a new "community," and it has proven to be a very slow transition. But Saturday afternoon in downtown St. Louis with The Arch overarching us, I found a community of thousands -- young or old, religious or not, marching or sitting, shouting or silent, and Dakinis was there in our midst. Thanks for saying the unexpected in your meditations that opens up wide the world we need to see and embrace. Phil Blackwell