I am always - and I mean always behind trends. Meaning usually I never even find the trends. And talking about trends feels like it is absolutely not a thing I should do, given that I know embarrassingly (or not???) little about them.
But I love a reflection, and I love a list, and I love a consistent format that I don’t have to create. So here, characteristically late, are January’s Ins and Outs.
In
Rhythms
Oatmeal for breakfast & homemade protein bites for snacks
Going to bed earlier
Morning puppy time
Making Instant Pot soup
“Sometimes loving people is holding them accountable.”
A more varied yoga practice
A set of travel-sized toiletries that permanently live in my travel bag
Out
Routines
Giving up on habits because I don’t do them well for a day or two
Fixing the copier when someone else broke it
Sleeping without earplugs (when I know that doesn’t work)
Things I’m Hoping to Move to the Out List
Over-scheduling
Snooze button purgatory
Low-grade dehydration
I’m working on a baby blanket for the first time in almost a year, and that feels nice. I also have two not-flat crochet projects (which is new for me) that are kits people have gifted me, and I’m excited to start them.
Given the hellscape of the current political moment, I’m reading a lot of nonfiction (a history of bookstores, regenerative agriculture deep-dives, memoirs from other historically turbulent times, a book called “Birding to Change the World,” and Robin Wall Kimmerer over and over and over) and a lot of fluff (road trip romance, magical realism romance, girl-moves-home-from-LA-to-small-town romance…you get the idea.
I’m also trying out a few different ways of getting news differently than I did the first go-around. I downloaded the Al Jazeera app (to remember that the US is not, in fact, the center of everything), subscribed to Heather Cox Richardson’s newsletter, and to Vox’s Logoff at the recommendation of the always-wonderful Ann Friedman.
A friend of mine, when my feelings about a meeting focused on what happens if ICE comes to my campus whipped me into a frenzy, said, “The chaos and uncertainty is part of the cruelty.” It was a good reminder that what this administration is doing is intentional: the chaos is part of the strategy. The last time around, I was whipped into a frenzy all the time. I sort of miss the level of energy I put forth. I miss the feeling like I was actually doing - could actually DO - something. But that energy feels like a thousand lifetimes ago. And maybe the over-reacting (not in the sense that my feelings or my actions were an over-reaction, but that there was simply too much reacting, because there was too much to react to) is part of the reason that I don’t feel like any of that energy exists now, at least not in the same form. And maybe the over-reacting and realizing that it didn’t necessarily work and certainly left me with diminished capacity is also why it’s easier this time to listen when people tell me to pay attention, to resist the chaos with stillness and steadfastness.
I’ve taken comfort in reading other people’s writing and listening to other people talk about how they’re tired, how they’re prioritizing rest, how they’re looking for the marathon not the sprint. I also feel deeply guilty and incredibly uncertain if my approach is a reasonable one, given the absolute colossal size of the threat we are facing. I don’t know. What I do know is that being whipped into a frenzy will not make me know a blessed thing more than I do now, and it uses my energy for something that is not fundamentally supportive.
Making a blanket will not fix fascism, but it is supportive and caring. Hosting a monthly dinner gathering will not stop barbaric policies, but it does build community and solidarity. Practicing and teaching yoga will not bring peace to the world, but it can bring a little bit of grounding and centering, for a few minutes, to one small part of my world. While it’ll never be enough to be grounded and present, being grounded (to some extent) and present (as much and as often as possible) - to both the suffering and to the bits of joy that we can find - will be part of making it through, and part of supporting those who are more deeply affected.
Some things that have resonated recently:
This list of strategies captures a balance that makes sense to me.
I believe deeply in the work of this local Austin organization; join me.
Still no additional comment on this title: I’m Gonna Love the Hell Out of You
This song when I need to remember the energy of a previous era, even if I’m pretty sure I’ll never return to living in that space.
I heard the truth in Carrie Newcomer’s “It’s Always Love” before I learned to love the song. It’s the simple refrain that is always true, no matter how sappy it sounds on the surface: everything comes back to love. Love is the thing this administration does not show. It is the thing that we have. It is the thing that will see us through.
The Sanskrit mantra lokah samastah sukhino bhavantu translates approximately as “May all beings be happy and free.” Saying it won’t make it so, but thinking about it as many times a day as I can helps me remember that what we have - love, each other, this planet - is worth caring for, and that it is something, even and especially on the darkest day.
And in case you needed a reminder: this song is for you.
I’d love to hear what’s resonating with you as we transition from an exhausting January toward a tenuous February.
As mentioned above, I’m working on taking a breath in the midst of over-scheduling (physical, mental, all the directions). So I’m going to take the next two Sundays off (to offset already over-scheduled Saturdays), and will look forward to being back on February 16th.
