Earlier in the week I wrote about the privilege of being able to opt out of politics, out of activism, out of engaging in the difficult, messy work of justice right now, with so much hanging in the balance. I urged those of us who feel we are tiring of it all, to realize that this is a luxury, and to use it wisely.
At the risk of sounding like I’m arguing with my four days younger self, I’m going to offer another suggestion: You may need to step back. You may need to take a breath. You may need to make some space to actually live.
Often I daydream about the things we could all be doing if we didn’t have to work tirelessly to protect ourselves from this President and his Administration. I bet you do too.
Many of us are exhausted, depleted, worn to the bone right now. Since November 2016, many of us have quite literally not stopped; consumed with tending to our social media feeds, participating in the work of equality, grieving the seemingly hourly barrage of terrible news, arguing with strangers and family members.
And most of us, whether we realize it or not, are doing it all to the detriment of something else: our physical health, our creativity, our marriages, our children, our mental state, our faith pursuits, our simple enjoyment of this life—which, by the way, we are smack dab in the middle of right now and in great danger of missing.
With every yes we say to this resistance work, we are saying no to something else, and as someone who has said yes as much as I can lately, I realize that I’ve said no to some really important, beautiful, life-sustaining things—and these things are as precious as the seconds that tick away as I do.
As we resist, there are a few things we can’t forget to do right now:
Be present. Most of us were already perpetually tethered to our devices long before November, but right now such uninterrupted negativity is altering our ability to be wherever we are and whoever we’re with at a given moment. Your children are growing at blinding speed, your friends are struggling with divorce, your parents are getting older. They deserve the best of you. Yes, staying informed and engaged in the world is critical, but there is life happening across the table or on the couch or playing in the backyard—and we can’t afford to miss it, or this once-in-a-lifetime second. Put down your hand held devices and see the small world within arm’s reach.
Cultivate relationships. Chances are this year has strained your connections with people, even if you’re not aware of it. As you pour energy into the pushing back against hatred and the opposing of injustice, people around you are experiencing a deficit; of your attention, your availability, your patience—the best version of you that you can give them. Sometimes they will let you know as much, but most of the time you’re going to have to be self-aware and realize that because they love you, they’re willing to accept less of you. Fight hard not to force them too.
Take care of yourself. Most of the people I know are neglecting the elemental, sustaining practices right now: eating well, sleeping, resting, praying, meditating, exercising, finding silence. These things may seem less urgent than the headlines and new alerts but they aren’t. They help recalibrate your brain, replenish your body, and they allow you to do the work you do better and be better as you do that work. Don’t let your health become a martyr to your activism.
Do What You Love. There are lots of things you’re probably not doing or doing far less than you were before November: songwriting, cooking, dancing, gardening, building, scrapbooking. I don’t know what activities give you joy or make you feel alive—but carve out time to do them, because they too are therapeutic and sustaining, and they make these days more than the angst and urgency of the moment. Following your muse and tending to your dream are still a nobel and worthwhile journeys.
Laugh. This week I spent time with my mother and siblings. We rarely get in the same room together because of our geographic distance, but for a few days we sat around a table, just eating and sharing stories—and laughing to tears. It was a reminder to me that joy is an elixir and laughter is medicinal, and they are critically important to helping us sustain sanity in quite insane circumstance. It is not ignoring the dire things in this life or disrespecting hurting people, to spend time experiencing joy. Laughter is an offensive weapon against hopelessness.
Remember why you’re here. We all have a why in our lives; a reason we get up in the morning. It is the thing that energizes and propels us into the day, and makes the painful and unspeakable stuff we encounter bearable. Your why may have become obscured by the events of the day, but you need to recover it and guard it with your life because it is a sacred thing. Don’t lose your purpose as you enter into the fight.
So yes, the work of resisting injustice, of protecting diversity, of demanding equality has never been more necessary or urgent—but while we spend ourselves on behalf of these things, we need to make sure that we don’t miss life happening right in front of us.
In days like this, living well isn’t just the best revenge, it’s also the greatest resistance.
Take care of yourselves and those around you.
Be encouraged.
