On receiving, in a time of loss

A philosopher's reflection on what can't be taken

My word for 2026 is “Receive,” but it feels strange to talk about receiving when so much is being taken from us.

Here in the U.S., it seems like every day brings news of another freedom under threat, another right rolled back. And alongside that is the heartbreak of realizing how long so many people have already been living under brutal, unjust conditions.

Even those of us who have known a measure of safety and stability can feel like we are always bracing against loss.

Our time is swallowed by endless to-do lists. Our attention is siphoned off by screens and feeds. Our happiness is promised somewhere just over the horizon, always arriving later.

How—in this burning world—can we simply sit back and receive?

I am a philosopher and a word nerd, so I approached this question by first looking at definitions.

The word “receive” has two Latin roots: re-, meaning “back,” and capere, meaning “to take.” To receive, quite literally, is to “take back,” to reclaim something that was already ours.

I think this etymology offers a clue.

I suspect that what we are being asked to receive is not something that can be earned, optimized, or hustled for. It’s not the promotion, the book deal, the picture-perfect home decor.

It’s not even a just and equitable society. We can see that’s not being freely given.

What we are called to receive is something that can never truly be taken from us: a felt sense of love and belonging in this world.

It is a knowing that we are worthy, regardless of what we have or don’t have, do or don’t do.

I suspect that grounding into our sense of enoughness is how we regain our power to inhabit the lives of our dreams—not just the ones we’re supposed to want—both for ourselves and our world.

I have seen in my own life that, paradoxically (and all truth seems to live in paradox), when I feel like enough just as I am, the easier it becomes to do work, make changes, and achieve goals, because I can feel that my value comes from a deeper place.

And still, knowing this and living it are very different things.

How do we actually feel like enough?

That question has shaped decades of my life.

I didn’t find the answer in a single insight or affirmation, but through practices—ways of relating to myself, my body, my work, and the world—that slowly, quietly changed how it feels to be alive.

If this question feels alive for you, I’ll be sharing some practices that helped me find my way in a free webinar called Feel Like Enough: A Feminist Path to Belonging Beyond Achievement.

You’re very welcome to join us.