Everything’s a Dumpster Fire…

I’m tired… not the kind of tired that sleep can help. The kind of tired you get when people are kind of awful to each other. The kind of tired that comes when everyone is screaming through a keyboard at each other,  teachers and schools have become the enemy and other parents just don’t care as much. Political conversations are too often about degrading each other than about policy and plans. I’m tired, and many of my friends are tired.   We’re tired and we are overwhelmed. I don’t know what the answer is, but I know that we have reached the angry stage with the pandemic and the hateful stage of the election year and both will get worse. Personally speaking, combine that with the uncertainty of Cyber School for my 12-year-old and the certainty of being the mom of a senior and all it encompasses, and it leaves me feeling weary. And I am a girl who likes a clear plan, I like kindness, and I’m a huge fan of offering and receiving grace. That’s been a little difficult to find lately and it seems there is simply not enough good in this world; it seems that everywhere you look it’s a dumpster fire. Or is it?

I mean… yeah a lot of it is. But there is a lot that isn’t. In fact, there is much that is really beautiful.  You likely won’t find it on Facebook or twitter unless you go looking. When I was speaking about that with a friend, we decided to start looking for the good, happy and stories that bring joy. When people saw our page they would see feel good happy stories. Maybe some dumpster fire sprinkled in for spice.  Instead of feeling like no one ever posts the “good stuff” we’d be the change we wish to see.  

And while we’re at, it maybe we should start encouraging each other to take a break when we’re tired. There is a time to push through and there is a time to rest. It’s sometimes hard for us to know when we need a break, it should be obvious to us, but very often it’s not. Let’s not only encourage each other to rest but demand it, gently of course, but firmly nonetheless. Perhaps that’s what love looks like. Perhaps it’s one of the ways to take care of each other; giving each other permission to stop and heal. Resting and healing are like best friends, where there is one you’ll probably find the other. Like me and my coffee, in order to be most effective version of yourself (or myself) just add rest (or coffee).

Maybe the answer is unplugging a little more often. Putting down the phone, stepping away from the computer screen and reading a great book, going for a walk, sitting around a camp fire or even writing a letter to someone. I definitely feel like I’m too connected, too often. You often hear that kids need to spend less time with technology, which is likely true for many.  What’s also true, is that it isn’t just for our children, but for us as well.  I keep telling myself that there is nothing wrong with being unavailable, with stepping away for a bit. It’s something I struggle with, I often walk the line between wanting to be available for any emergencies that come up while also wanting to remove myself from everything that’s going on outside of my own four walls. It’s tough to make that decision yet sometimes it’s even harder to get the people in your life to respect that need for quiet solace. I’m not saying that we should go into hiding and lock the world away indefinitely, I’m just saying that it’s okay and probably necessary to take a time out now and then:  it’s normal and healthy.

UPDATE: Sometimes out of the blue and just when I needed it the most, I get some wonderful news. Like recently we heard that our sweet friend, Julie, who has been fighting non-hodgkins lymphoma, (for the second time), has gone into remission.  I just couldn’t help but weep. As ugly as the world can be, it’s still beautiful and there are blessings all around us. Covid, school, politics, arguing and all the other “noise” doesn’t seem to matter as much. It’s a timely reminder that although the ugly gets so, so loud, we have to remember to drown it out. We have to remember that this too shall pass, maybe like a kidney stone, but pass nonetheless! We, but specifically I, have to get better at tuning the noise out, focusing on the Julies of the world. Here’s the truth:  I have exactly zero ideas about how to carry this feeling of hope with me long term, but I know what brings joy and what doesn’t. That seems like the best place to start.