The sun is rising but hiding. I know the sun is there by its effect, by light shining up on the clouds above, even though I can’t see the sun.

It is mid-January in Florida, and I’m sitting fully dressed in the sand by the ocean at high tide on a chilly day. The ocean rolls closer and closer to me on the wet sand. When should I move? I’m testing the tides. Can I hold my ground, or do I have the instinct & wisdom to know when to retreat to higher ground?

I went south for a few days in January just to remember warm weather and sun, only it was cold & rainy most of the week. But I was productive sitting in one place for hours writing on a new book—12,000 words in a week—words that need reshaping and editing but I also edited them each day.

Finally on my last day the sun appeared. The temperature rose a bit, and I could sit outside in the morning in a sweatshirt and not freeze as I watched the sun battle its way through the clouds, only the sun wasn’t doing the battle. It was there shining, always there. It was the clouds hanging over it I had to see through, look for the effect of the sun shining upward, lighting the patches of sky which the clouds weren’t covering, illumining the edges of the clouds themselves with a fringe of pink and golden light.

Oops…it’s time to get up as that last wave touched the top of my toes and the clouds settled in again over the face of the sun.

Back on the Eastern shore of Maryland, mid-February: I wake early along with the birds which share their song on the river. The stars are disappearing from view as the sky grows light and turns a pale grey. The river is as still as glass this morning. Land, water, wildlife appear to be waiting for the dawn and for spring. New birth, hope, promise are in the morning air in spite of fraught affairs on the ground.

Just 80 miles away in Washington, DC the world feels as if it’s fracturing. In the bitter cold and crackling atmosphere plants still lie dead in winter and appear unmoved by the possibility of spring. Here government buildings are losing their signage even before such acts are rendered legal. USAID which provides aid and services for hundreds of thousands abroad who are in need of food and shelter is being shuttered even before the closing down is sanctioned by courts or Congress. The magnificent US Institute of Peace which was created by an Act of Congress as a nonpartisan space with a mandate to provide tools and activities around the globe that lead to peace-building among combative factions in nations has been put on a list for closure, but it was Congress, not the executive, that sanctioned it. The post office itself which was created as an independent agency is reported soon to be shuttered in my own neighborhood and turned over to whom? The Kennedy Center, a hub of the arts—drama, opera, music—in Washington, again a nonpartisan space, not created for partisan players has been handed over to the administration, to a President who was not elected with a majority—just 49.9% of the vote. Unelected, unvetted individuals are attempting to shut down whole offices and letting go hundreds of thousands of workers without process or evaluations and reportedly assigning tasks (and contracts worth billions) to the one shutting them down, contracts never opened to bidding.

Over the last weeks, I have been on numerous calls with nongovernmental humanitarian organizations, human rights organizations, United Nation organization, all struggling to figure out what these shutdowns of funds and people will mean for their future.

“The call about the Stop-the-Work orders was cancelled because of the Stop-the-Work order,” one individual reported ruefully. “We called for clarification but there was no one there to talk to.” “There were no metrics, no standards or criteria offered about how decisions would be made on resuming funding or returning personnel,” several people reported.

I have spent my years in what I’ve considered a relatively nonpartisan space even though I live in Washington. Beginning my career as a journalist, I believed and continue to believe it is important to have individuals who are “fair brokers”—not beholden to any political party. I have rarely contributed to political parties or campaigns; I contribute to issues. I vote, but I don’t campaign for specific candidates or parties. I try to see value in each and to provide a bridge for ideas. I have a point of view, but my view and judgement are not beholden nor am I trying to drive it. I haven’t joined a party though I appreciate and respect those who do. There are issues I think/hope are beyond party—education and human rights to name two. For decades foreign policy has been a space where the two parties could at least agree on what was the national interest even if disagreeing on the path to get there. They agreed about the importance of protecting the US and other countries’ freedoms—freedom of expression and freedom to choose.

Soon we will welcome warmer weather, extended sunlight, and the daffodils of spring, but I am deeply worried about the body politic and the direction of my country in a way I haven’t been during my lifetime. For much of this period, America has been—if not always the beacon on the hill—at least a safe harbor, a place where those living without the rights of the individual protected and respected, could look to and be assured of moral support, assistance, and sometimes refuge.

I have warned others not to let fear drive the discourse or agenda these days lest we fulfill our own fears. As I end this blog, I warn myself the same. One by one we will need to find what we can do well and do it, whether it is writing, sharing ideas, donating to causes or helping a neighbor. One by one we will need to dissolve, or at least curb, fear by actions that embrace and care and continue believing and acting to advance a “shared world.”

On the calls and in the meetings with the nonprofits and UN agency, I’ve listened to individuals who are mobilizing to address this new world, to find ways to keep services alive. Few spend time remonstrating. Instead, they are addressing what can be done and looking for answers. Those individuals who are driven by retribution are looking backwards. Retribution is a misshaped tool that tries to punish the past and shape the future with a hammer rather than with a scalpel and imagination. An architect and builder can plan and build a future, but that is not what we are seeing at work. To paraphrase the wisdom of others: It takes little time to destroy but years and centuries to build.