Archives for category: Despair

“What the hell? They’re demanding workers return to the office, but they’re closing offices? That doesn’t make any damned sense…” No, no it doesn’t make sense.

“No one has ever heard of Lesotho”, said the President of the United States (an individual who claims to have a college education). He wants to close the Department of Education. None of that makes any sense.

“We’re going to cut 15% of the VA workforce.” Um… the VA is known to be chronically understaffed, to the point of putting veteran healthcare at risk. This doesn’t make any sense.

These are just samples from today’s news. I’m sorry – I am going somewhere with this, so I wanted to get started with some “crazy world” samples. If you need an intellectual “palate cleanser”, I recommend this outstanding opposition rebuttal speech by Elissa Slotkin, from the night of the (absolutely batshit crazy, error-riddled) President’s address to Congress. (Senator Slotkin’s speech is definitely worth a read – it gives me hope.) I don’t prefer to go on about politics; we each have our own opinions, some well-informed, some less so, all based on what we each understand about the world, and our own personal values. I’m not here to argue those points with you, I just want to take a minute to address the stress, and the feeling that the world has gone crazy around us, and maybe offer up some practices for maintaining our own individual sanity in the face of it. So, let’s do that, eh?

One practice I’m pretty committed to, that does help me manage my background stress is to avoid “doomscrolling” the news media – any source, any platform, any talking head (favored or not). It gets ridiculously repetitive, and is often explicitly intentionally crafted to drive our emotions – to get clicks and views. “Engagement” is the point. Profit. This is how news organizations make money; by grabbing and holding on to our attention. That doesn’t happen to be good for us, though, so… I avoid it. Just skip it. I get enough news filtered through work conversations, and “did you hear…?” remarks from acquaintances, family members, and friends. About twice a week I skim the headlines, once over quickly – and I find that generally this is enough to give me the factual points. I don’t read articles that use “clickbait” headlines at all; I have to assume what they have to say (and their reason for saying it) is either dishonest, or not factual, or they would just say it. I haven’t noticed that this strategy deprives me of any timely awareness of current events, and it definitely reduces my stress, generally.

I am, however, quite human, and sometimes I still get “sucked into the crazy bullshit”…

Roses don’t mind the rain.

So, another practice I use to manage my stress in this crazy world is to spend time really present and engaged with real life events and circumstances right here at home, with real people who matter to me, and that are nothing at all to do with whatever nonsense is going on in Washington, D.C. right now. The world could begin to burn down around me, but I enjoy a quiet ordinary life in a quiet ordinary suburb in a quiet ordinary small town tucked between agriculture and industry. I have a garden to tend. There’s housekeeping to keep caught up. The weather has been quite mild. My Traveling Partner “has my back” and loves me deeply (and I feel the same about him). There’s dinner later to consider. There’s blue sky beyond the windows of the office, today. Life. My life. You have this powerful advantage too; the opportunity to anchor your emotional stability and your sanity to the humdrum ordinary details of the life you live and the choices you make for yourself. That’s more powerful than we tend to realize, when we’re faced with the craziness of the world beyond our own life and the moments in it. Getting mired in the stress and fear and worry of craziness beyond our lives that we can neither contain nor control is a shortcut to madness – I know this first hand. My PTSD griefs me with it, when I fail to provide myself with adequate self-care, or fall short of maintaining healthy practices for managing my own chaos and damage. That’s just real.

Once we choose our path, we’ve still got to walk it. The journey is the destination. 🙂

We’re so human. This shit is hard, because crazy is scary. We know some of what we’re seeing go on in the world if fucking wrong and terrible – and yet it is going on. What can we do about it? Sometimes… nothing. Sometimes the most important and powerful things we can do about it are to walk our own path, provide ourselves with good self-care, speak truth to power fearlessly (and call the ridiculous shit out for being as ridiculous as it is), and be kind to the people around us who are hurting. The will to action withers when we don’t take care of ourselves and maintain our individual good emotional health. It’s hard to have the energy (or feel like it matters) to write the President directly by snail mail an actual letter that says “what the fuck??” and “this is what I expect and want from my government” – but if 100% of each and every citizen did so, it would be an avalanche of civil action, of protest, of involvement, and might actually change something. I think about that often. Taking action needs me to maintain my own sanity, though, doesn’t it?

I’ve gotten distracted by the crazy, once again, it’s out there lurking, waiting to sneak up on the unwary. Breathe, exhale, relax – bring the focus to here, to now, to this moment that you’re in. Whatever it is, it matters more to you right now than the actions of a distant madman and his cohort of corrupt billionaires. Just saying – finding what matters most to you, right now, has real value. For me? Right now? It happens to be this bit of writing. This cup of coffee. This quiet moment for myself carved out of a busy day. It’s enough. I’m worth a moment of my own time. (You’re worth a moment of my time, too, and thank you for being here with me.)

I look up from my laptop, across the quiet co-work space (so orderly, so calm, so empty). It’s still just me, and it’s quite early in the morning. I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a good time for a few minutes of meditation – another useful practice. I have a favorite spot for it, here, that is reliably comfortable and quiet. I have it on my calendar so I can be sure not to miss the opportunity. Even something as small as 10 minutes of meditation does a lot to build and maintain my emotional resilience. There are verbs involved; it’s quite necessary to do it, not just observe that it is a good practice. lol That’s the way of practices, generally – doing them is the key to success. “Practice” is a verb. It’s also an ongoing thing – a step on path, on a journey that does not end. The journey is the destination.

And that brings me to another approach to maintaining sanity when the world is going crazy; perspective. Observation, and experience, and the awareness that however bad it seems, this too will pass. I’m not saying that complacence is a wise approach (it is not), just that we can pretty reliably be certain of one thing – change is. The madman in power now is as mortal as anyone else. Change will come. Be part of the change you wish to see – and doing so by living your truth, your values, and staying on your own path. Be the person you most want to be. By doing so, and maintaining a sense of perspective, the contrast between you and the crazy in the world becomes clearer. You stand within your moment less affected by the crazy in the world, and more able to sustain yourself through to the next season of change.

It’s hard to go wrong with good basics…

It’s not perfect as strategies go, I know. I’d love to have a real cure, a solution, a reliable durable fix to what our world is going through right now. I only have this; my certainty that I’m okay right now, for most values of “okay”, and that it is (mostly) enough. If I can maintain my own sanity, I can be part of what is sane. Should work for you too, with practice. It’s something. It may not change the world, but it can be a small part of making things right in little ways. That’s definitely something. I’ll gladly take something over nothing – wouldn’t you?

I sigh quietly, and finish my coffee. It’s time to begin. Again.

A friend asked me a question, and asked for “some steps, you know, some basic practices” because they were “freaking out with all this chaos and scary shit going on” (I know, me too, right?). I said I’d do my best. I hope it helps. ❤

Where does this path lead?

Sometimes it’s a difficult journey, this “life” thing, eh? It doesn’t have to be has difficult as it sometimes seems. It is an unfortunate truth that we often complicate our situation needlessly, sometimes through poor decision-making, sometimes through lack of clarity in our thinking, sometimes just because we have feelings and don’t reliably deal with those skillfully. But, the good news is that we do actually have choices, and tools at our disposal (like critical thinking, perspective, and non-attachment). We can take things a step at a time…

  1. Start where you are. Any journey is more difficult if you are trying to begin from somewhere other than where you actually stand. Honest self-reflection, acceptance, and making a point to test your assumptions and reality check your expectations is really useful.
  2. Breathe, exhale, relax. Maybe you don’t have “a meditation practice”. Maybe you don’t need one? It’s reliably helpful to “take a minute” to calm yourself when you are stressed out. Change your perspective or your environment, however briefly, and break out of your rumination or your stress spiral. Let small shit stay small. Let things go that you’re getting hung up on, if only for a little while. Take a break. Walk away from it.
  3. Take care of your “fragile vessel”. Such a simple thing – self-care really matters, particularly when life feels hardest. Are you getting enough rest? Are you eating healthy meals? Drinking enough water? How about a shower and some clean clothes? Have you taken prescription medications that may affect your feeling of wellness (or failed to take them)? Are you in pain – and are you doing something to ease that, if you can?
  4. No media, no doomscrolling. This one is a small thing, but a big deal; if you’re already stressed to the breaking point, feeling overwhelmed, or struggling to manage the details in your life, I promise you that reading the news, or doomscrolling endlessly through various feeds on your device(s) is not helpful. Put it down. Silence your notifications. Put the device on Do Not Disturb. Walk away from the tether that ties you to constant demands for your attention. Go outside. Take a walk. Read a book. Sit down over a cup of tea or coffee with an actual human being out in the world and have a conversation. (See point 2.)
  5. Put things into perspective. This one is both difficult and easy. Easy to say, sometimes more difficult to put into practice, just being real with you. Your perspective on a difficult moment may be filtered through the lens of the stress you feel, or prior experiences that weren’t really quite the same. You may be struggling with your chaos and damage, and past traumas may be coloring your understanding. Take a step back. (Don’t take dumb shit personally.) Consider the moment from more than one angle. This one moment, right here, is unique and unrepeatable – and it will pass (good or bad). Let it.
  6. Practice non-attachment. This is a practice that sometimes has some poignance (at least for me); let it go. Just that. Whatever it is, don’t cling to it. Let it go. If you lost the thing you cling to so tightly (whether it is an object, relationship, or sense of identity), things might change, sure, but – wouldn’t you (most likely) be okay if you allow yourself to be? We sometimes cling so tightly to something that isn’t even quite real. Some of what hurts us most we’ve completely made up – it’s safe to let that shit go.
  7. Practice gratitude. I’m not even kidding. I’m also not suggesting that being grateful for the struggle itself, or the pain you’re in, or this complicated moment is the goal. Not at all. I’m suggesting that being grateful for other things, the small wins, the pleasant moments, the little joys, the handful of things that are reliably part of your individual good fortune has real value. It’s difficult for anger, anxiety, or sorrow to compete for one’s attention with heartfelt gratitude. Authenticity matters, and gratitude can’t be “forced”, but there are likely to be quite a few little things for which you are truly grateful. Make room for those. Reflect on, and cherish those. It may give you a firm foundation to stand on before you…
  8. Take the next step. Life is a journey. Most of our path we walk alone. Sometimes we’re fortunate enough to share the journey, but it is still our journey. We’re each having our own experience. Walk on. Sure, have an eye on where you think you’d like to get to, but understand an important detail; the journey is the destination. Do your best to be the person you’d most like to be, moment to moment. Make those choices – the ones that allow you to walk your path, authentically.
  9. Be here, now. Spend less time on regret (the past is behind you) and worry (the future has not yet happened and may not be whatever you fear it might). Be present, in this moment. Now. This takes us back to point 1, you may have noticed… “start where you are”.
As with so many journeys, it isn’t always clear where the path leads.

Breathe. Exhale. Relax. You can begin again. Each time you stumble, pick yourself up, and begin again. Each time you fail, learn from that experience. You’ve got this. It’s your path, your journey, no one can handle this one better than you can.

Staying on the path is a choice, and there are verbs involved.

We’ve all got to walk our own mile. Sometimes it is a difficult journey. Sometimes we’re fortunate enough to share some portion of the journey with other travelers. The company we keep matters. A lot. Walking a difficult path alone may be a better choice than sharing the journey with those who wish you ill ( or even those who simply don’t care whether you stumble).

The way ahead may not be obvious. Conditions may be bleak.

I’ve never understood why someone would choose an unforgiving path in the company of the hostile, mean-spirited, cruel, or other ill-intentioned souls on life’s journey. Sometimes we happen upon such folk, our paths may cross, but why choose to endure miles shared alongside them? What value does it add beyond painful lessons learned? Won’t circumstances deliver enough of that without seeking it out?

Isn’t being alone and walking a solitary mile better than sharing the journey with someone who would mistreat you?

Walk on. Choose the company you keep with care.

It can be a cold and unforgiving journey without also sharing your hard miles with those who wish you ill, or who would misuse your gracious presence for their own ends.

We’ve all got to walk our own mile, whatever the weather. (It’s a metaphor.)

My steps on the trail make a crunching sound as I walk over what’s left of the snow. I feel the snow compress and yield beneath my weight with each step further.  The air is clean and crisp, and feels strangely warm for 36°F. I feel comfortable in my warm sweater and my fleece. My steps feel purposeful as I walk through the fog along the marsh trail. Daybreak has come and the gray of the foggy morning changes hue. No colorful sunrise this morning. I have the trail to myself and I walk with my solitary thoughts, content to be alone.

I am grateful for a partnership that gives me such easy freedom to embrace solitary joy. My Traveling Partner has a standing invitation to join me on my morning walks, any time. (He’s more of an afternoon walk in the sunshine guy.) He doesn’t grudge me this solitary joy, and isn’t inclined to be out here on the foggy winter trail. I’m grateful to share the journey with such an understanding traveler.

My thoughts accompany me through the oak trees along the trail…

My thoughts wander. I smile recalling a time when I wore a favorite T-shirt that said “I don’t f* mean people” – and it was true then, and is still true now. I mean, why would I? Why would anyone? Isn’t it better to be alone? It’s a question I ask myself often, because I see so many people who seem uncomfortable with solitude. I don’t understand that, at all. Even my inner demons are better company than mean-spirited, cruel, or petty people. (I enjoy my own company quite a lot.)

Winter oaks, a foggy trail, and solitude.

I get back to the warmth of the car. Write a few words and reflect awhile on the quiet joy of a solitary mile in my own good company. The company we keep on this journey matters a lot. If you find you’d rather endure ill-intentioned companions than spend your time alone, that may be something worth reflecting on. You could be your own best friend. You could even walk a joyful solitary mile instead of enduring an unforgiving path in poorly chosen company. Isn’t it worth thinking about?

I breathe, exhale, and relax, sitting with my solitary thoughts, contentedly. It’s enough. I find quiet joy in this moment of solitude.

It has been worth it to step off the unforgiving path to walk a very different mile in well-chosen company – or solitude. Worth it to begin again.

Oh, hey, that’s right – no one sponsors this content. lol It’s just me, sitting here in the quiet of morning, before sunrise, alone with my thoughts. 😀 I like that arrangement.

I sip my coffee, sitting here quietly enjoying the warmth and comfort of a simple breakfast of oatmeal, with a handful of cashews and dried blueberries added. It’s not fancy. Hell, I don’t even like oatmeal. It’s a healthy choice, though, and I learned quite a long time ago that I enjoy it best with the least fussing; I add boiling water, enough to make it rather thin, and stir it around a bit until the texture suits me, and eat it. Not fancy at all. No added sugar (besides the blueberries, which are dried but not sweetened), just some nuts and dried fruit, in measured portions. It’s enough.

Although I see it as “simple” and “not fancy”, it is the sort of breakfast that comes at a “hidden cost”. Cashews? Cashews are an “exotic nut” that comes from far away places. They’re not cheap now, and I suppose they’ll be more expensive very soon. Tariffs. Dried blueberries? Well, if I’m going to insist on those being nothing more than whole healthy fruit, dried without preservatives or added sugar, I’m going to end up paying for that privilege – and it is a privilege. Also not cheap now, and with the mass deportations going on, it’s likely that farm labor for harvesting things like blueberries is going to become more limited, and more costly too. Well, shit. I sigh over my “simple” breakfast, grateful to be aware of what contributes to the experience I am enjoying. I am dismayed by the short-sighted petty bullshit and dim-wittery of the current leadership of the US government. Disappointed that everyday people voted these corrupt (and in some cases actually evil) clowns into office in the first place. What the actual fuck, eh? (G’damn do I hate plain oatmeal, too – but I may be eating it by the time summer comes.)

Sorry. It’s on my mind. I apologize to myself as much as to anyone else. No point getting spun up over this shit and losing my way, eh? Especially first thing in the morning. I sigh to myself. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and pause for gratitude; it’s blueberries and cashews this morning, and it’s lovely. I’ve got a delicious cup of coffee, too; the office staff bought the Ethiopian beans I suggested, instead of the Columbian beans that are the usual supply in the office. A most pleasant morning, worthy of appreciation and gratitude, and I make that my focus. A pessimistic outlook may result in being “right” more often, but it’ll be a lot less enjoyable, generally, and being “right” is highly over-rated unless you have the will and the power to do something about the circumstances in some practical way. Just saying – don’t forget to enjoy the little things in life. They matter. A lot.

Life isn’t “perfect”. It’s never going to be – that simply isn’t a real part of the “human condition”. We’re wired with a strong negative bias, and our survival has often depended on being aware of imminent threats far more than it has ever depending on knowing joy. So – we have to work at enjoying joy. Worth practicing. Taking a moment for that, I make a point of reflecting on the lovely moments of the weekend just behind me, instead of becoming mired in some little thing that wasn’t “just so”, or some headache, inconvenience, or moment of pain. It’s always pretty easy to recall what went wrong at some given point in time, less so for the things that went right. So I sit with the recollection of my Traveling Partner’s smile. Of the cute Valentine’s Day gift he gave me early – just because. Of the warmth of his arms around me, and how good it felt to be in his embrace, and really feel the progress he’s making as he continues to recover from his injury. It’s been a long year of worry, and I’m so happy to see him back on his feet, and back in the shop, and to feel the warmth of his love expressed in a lingering hug. I smile to myself, thinking about the satisfaction of making a really good dinner and enjoying it as a family. I enjoy the sense of accomplishment of tackling some much needed tidying up in my studio/office/personal space. It was a good weekend. I still live in the United States, and holy fucking hell our government is still some sort of weird mockery of what it was, being run by corrupt criminal billionaires, fanatics, and grifters, but… things are nice at home, and it’s worth making that my focus for awhile. Enjoying the joy. Filling up on the love and the delightful moments. This is a really practical approach for building the resilience I’ll need to deal with the stress of “other bullshit” in a world very definitely filled with a lot of that.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I sit with my thoughts and my good cup of coffee. It is a cold winter morning, and I’m fortunate to be warm and safe and dry. I’ve got a good job, and it keeps the bills paid. I’ve got a good partnership, and we thrive together and get things done. Family life is good – maybe the best I’ve ever had it. The Anxious Adventurer has a good heart, and he helps out quite a lot. I’m learning to more clearly communicate my needs and expectations. The journey is the destination – and for now the path feels relatively smooth, the way ahead more or less clear, enough to walk my own mile with some confidence.

A faint shadow crosses my brow when I think about my Dear Friend. It’s been almost a year since she died, and I am thinking of her often. My mood brightens when I recall the recent visit of The Author, another very dear friend, and quite a delightful visit – he’s a good guest, and an exceptional friend. I can’t always see what is around the next bend in life’s path, but it’s proven to be a journey worth making. (The company we keep on this journey matters quite a lot.) I smile and finish my coffee, thinking about a second cup, already. I guess it’s time to begin again.

I overslept this morning. Of course. I have an important meeting on my calendar, early. Not early enough to change the flow of my routine at all, just early enough to “feel different” and be on my mind, in the background. I dreamt strange dreams before I woke.

I dreamt that I worked somewhere quite different than I do, and that we worked uncomfortably alongside each other, me, “the boss”, and a bunch of classic stereotypical “mean girls” (basic bitches one and all with french tip manicures, heavy perfumes, high heels, and carefully sprayed hair-dos) – and “the other coworker”. She was a pleasant competent woman going through some difficult times, and in my dream I remember feeling affronted and dismayed to hear “the boss” making dismissive comments and giving her side-eye over absences to do with child-care and medical care. It was disappointingly real, and rather than endure more of that bullshit, I left for the day.

In my dream I struggled with my car seeming to go “too slow” – like, really slow. No traffic, it just went slower than I expected. At some point I noticed I wasn’t driving my car – I had taken someone’s scooter by mistake?! Weird. I don’t ride a scooter, never have. I found myself lost on what should have been a familiar route home and began to worry that I might be sufficiently late to worry my Traveling Partner. I called home and tried to explain about the terrible day, the mistake taking the wrong vehicle, getting lost along the way, and how I ended up in a strange town with a familiar name, but where nothing at all looked the same – and no gps. I was on foot by then, near an elegant restaurant, where I had parked the scooter planning to call the colleague whose vehicle that was to explain what had happened. I couldn’t reach her. I woke with a start, and realized I was dreaming, and looked around me to take stock of where I was.

I walked on, unaware that I was still dreaming. Everything around me was destruction and chaos. Desert (and deserted) communities flattened by warfare, all the way to the distant horizon. Pinkish-beige desert sands and remnants of stone buildings, and an eering silence broken by suspicious sounds of things scurrying unseen, and I walked on feeling a strong sense of dread and sorrow. A man approached me suspicious and angry, demanding that I identify myself, as I clearly wasn’t from around there. He refused to give me directions – or hope or reassurance. I kept walking. I was approached by another man, aged and twisted, who demanded I turn over my credit cards. He was pointing some kind of weapon at me. I burst into tears claiming not to have any credit cards, and starting to tell him all about my terrible day, which he clearly had no time for. He let me walk on rather than deal with my emotional bullshit.

I wandered into some sort of town-ish area, noodle shops and small restaurants, decorated with banners and signs in a language I did not understand, just opening at dusk, lights filling the cramped narrow streets. Cobblestones? I continued toward what looked like a main avenue, maybe somewhere familiar? I saw a road sign suggesting the freeway was somewhere ahead. I saw a lovely peculiar park, filled with irregular steps leading down into a verdant lush garden, with a small lake, candles everywhere. No leaves on the trees – winter? I tried to take a picture (to share with you) unaware that I was dreaming. I couldn’t get it to turn out, from any of the angles I tried. I turned to find my Traveling Partner arriving to help me find my way home. I felt incredibly reassured to have him by my side, and started to tell him about my strange day… He laughed, and held me close and wispered in my ear “you’re only dreaming, Baby, and it’s time to wake up, time to begin again…”

I woke from my peculiar dream, still not quite sure which was the more real circumstance… the here, now, or the dream? I went through my morning routine in a most routine way, and the commute was quite relaxed and there wasn’t any traffic; I’d hit the quiet pocket between batches of commuters rushing along on their usual timing, perhaps. The office is cold and quiet. My calendar is waiting for me – no surprises. Real life feels quite ordinary, and looking beyond the window, I see my car parked in the usual place. No scooter. No “mean girls”. My head aches ferociously – also quite ordinary and routine. A new day dawning, a chance to begin again. I sip my coffee grateful that I am not surrounded by the detritus and aftermath of war, but dismayed that this isn’t true everywhere, for everyone. There are whole communities left in rubble, unlivable, destroyed, and people struggling to survive there, any way they can. Those places just don’t happen to be here. Not yet. Maybe not ever (I can hope to be so fortunate, but I don’t think I can count on that).

Strange dream, I think to myself, reflecting on the details and wondering what I might learn from it. Am I trying to tell myself something, or was my brain just “taking out the trash” as I slept? I often wonder about dreams. I breathe, exhale, relax, and take a moment for gratitude and self-reflection before I begin the day in earnest. I have choices ahead of me. I hope to make only the most wise, most ethical, and most helpful choices I can – and to contribute in some small way to truly making the world a better place for everyone who lives in it. We’re all in this together, in spite of each having our own experience. I can do better than I sometimes have. I can begin again.

…So can you. It’s time to wake up.