These Times Are Spiritual Doorways

How Trump’s Win Convinced Me I’m Quaker

There is something afoot in these times of great political turbulence that is inviting us to connect with greater Spirit.

I’ve been knee-deep in resistance to the Trump administration well before he took office on January 20. In 2020 I cofounded Choose Democracy to train thousands of people in how to stop a coup after Trump said he might reject unfavorable election results—which he did. Following Trump’s 2024 win and now his and Musk’s coup, I’ve been encouraging diverse responses: from tax resistance to developing community groups to observing ICE to defending civic institutions to long-term visioning. It’s going to take a big, wide net of strategies and tactics to resist their authoritarian takeover, but even more than that, I’m sensing many of us are going through an inner transformation as well.

In the days right after Trump’s election last November, my article “10 Ways to Be Prepared and Grounded Now that Trump Has Won” for Waging Nonviolence went viral. It quickly reached over a million views, and I got inundated with interview and coaching requests.

Most of the reporters I talked with were personally shaken. They weren’t just asking, What should we do? They were asking for themselves, How am I going to make it through?

I recall one interview in particular where I was asked a loaded question: given the breakdown coming, how do you hope Trump supporters get their comeuppance? It was a casually laid out question with minefields everywhere. I paused abruptly and reminded myself not to rush in. I took a step back to think about what I most wanted to convey.

I felt myself stepping back too far. Yes, I had some specific interventions to offer and approaches to share about how we need different strategies. But at a much deeper level we were entering into a time when many of our already frail systems were going to fall into greater collapse. This made me think of a quote by Italian philosopher Antonio Gramsci, often translated as, “The crisis consists precisely in the fact that the old is dying and the new cannot be born; in this interregnum a great variety of morbid symptoms appear.” Or as Slavoj Žižek later interpreted: “Now is the time of monsters.”

What do I have to say to that?

I got nervous that I was taking too long to answer. So I gave up figuring it out and just spoke from the heart, faster than my brain could process. Just say what’s true. And here’s the first thing I said: “Look . . . I’m Quaker.”

This came as a huge shock. I have never identified as a Quaker despite my many associations: graduating from a Quaker college; studying Quakerism in graduate school; working with many Quakers and Quaker institutions; attending dozens of Quaker meetings, often before leading those gathered in a social justice workshop; and training Quaker direct action groups.

I’ve always felt proud to be among Quakers doing their thing, but no. I’ve joked about not being Quaker for a long time. I’m a lowercase friend. A friend of Friends.

I continued: “That means I believe there is that of God within every person.”

And here is where I stopped reeling and regained my footing. This statement felt deeply settled in my soul. There wasn’t mucky uncertainty; there was solid ground beneath me. I felt confident that truth would flow from it. I continued without hesitation: “So in this time ahead I want everyone—everyone—to find greater access to their inner voice and connection to the Divine. This will be a way forward for all of us.” This part felt fully aligned.

After the interview, I told my wife about how I called myself a Quaker and we laughed it off as a blip, blaming exhaustion and the deeply ungrounded moment we are in. Still somewhere inside of me I was churning. I could sense that the ground has shifted for all of us.

I didn’t realize I was so in sync with many. One week after Trump took office, an African American elder confided in me on a phone call: “Daniel, I think I’m going to need God now.” Two weeks into the presidency, a White activist with decades of successful secular campaigning told me, “I’ve never been so ungrounded. I need to find a spiritual home.” A Colombian American messaged me and said, “I need someone to regularly meditate with. I can’t make it through this with what I have.” And a wise Quaker I know admitted, “These moments are testing my faith. I need to retreat deeper into it to survive.” I knew exactly what they meant.

We are witnessing great horror, tragedy, and cruelty, as systems are forced to bend to coups and break on whims and be utterly destroyed by dictatorial fiats. This is so much greater than Trump. We’re going through not only a political crisis but a spiritual one. It’s what the Romans must have gone through as their Empire crumbled. What the Mayans felt as their people could no longer keep up their temples. Each of us may view it in our own way, but we’re all experiencing a lifting of veils and great internal upheaval.

The day after my accidental Quaker “blip,” I did another interview and was again asked a similarly tricky question. My mind felt ready this time. I won’t say I’m Quaker. I’ve already seen this question before so I’ll find a better answer. But in the moment I knew I needed to say what was true. I took a deep breath and just let my words fall away. I didn’t go chasing them. I needed to find a deeper grounding and so let myself the briefest of communion with the Spirit-that-moves-through-all-things.

“Look,” I said, “I’m Quaker. That means I believe there is that of God within every person. That means in the time ahead I want each of us to find greater access to that of the Divine inside of us. We need great wisdom for what’s ahead.”

Under the pressure of these times, a spiritual doorway opened for me. And I believe there will be many more spiritual doorways for all of us in the days ahead. I urge you to connect with your inner voice, speak your truth, and walk through.