One day last week I let myself get buried by all the commentary blasting out from social media on the current events in our world. I felt desperate and sad and despairing and afraid, and I couldn't get to sleep that night. I vowed to not let that happen again, and so far this week I have not. Watching the news to stay in the loop is one thing. Absorbing all the ways in which celebrities and various social media regulars emotionally share their responses to it is quite another. I am not saying they don't have the perfect right to share their responses, it's just that I don't have to subscribe to all of it. The human body was not created to be a full-time disaster response machine. We need to be informed, yes, but we also need fresh air, we need healthy boundaries, we need creative outlets and meaningful pursuits, we need community, and we need, most of all, hope.
I remember during the first year of the Covid pandemic, someone wisely said that how you respond to crisis affects how your children will respond, so be calm and carry on. Answer their questions simply and honestly but don't dwell on the negative and don't freak out every time the news gets worse. Go to the trusted source for advice on how to cope. For me that was listening to Bonnie Henry calmly and compassionately deliver her updates. She never failed to help me feel under control and hopeful that we would all get through that trying time together. For anxious me with one teenager still living at home, staying visibly calm all the time was a tall order. I had to develop a routine of coping with my anxiety as I had also lost my job due to Covid. I went for long walks every day listening to a lot of Steve Martin and the Steep Canyon Rangers. I made healthy food for my family. I did little art projects. I reached out to family and friends. I watched the World War II-era mystery series Foyle's War from start to finish to remind myself that humanity had lived through tough times before and we would survive...well, most of us would.
The lessons of the Covid pandemic still apply in the bizarre world climate of today. Having access to 24/7 news and commentary doesn't mean we don't have the power to choose when and how much we absorb. We are all different. Some people can take a lot. My husband for one. He can get up in the morning and hit the internet on full blast. It doesn't seem to put him on the wrong foot for the day. I have to ease in with 'coffee and contemplation' as my brother-in-law Brent calls it, with some prayer to help me keep perspective, journal writing, Wordle and Connections puzzles. Then, I might look online for some funny content. I'm not ready for anything more serious until at least mid morning. At least one day per week I avoid social media altogether to concentrate on creative projects. I need that healthy boundary to remain hopeful and would argue that most of us do.
Years ago my eldest son came home from high school and said, "Hey Mom, do you want to hear the world's shortest poem? I heard it in English class today." "Sure" I said. "Okay, here it is" he said.
Hope? Nope.
That was the poem. Although probably the honest feeling of the poet when they wrote it, flat out depressing.
I prefer this one by Emily Dickinson:
“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -
And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -
I’ve heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.
Hang on to your little bird, friends. We will get through this.
'til next time,
Rebecca
