I’ve been really quiet here, and I should address the radio silence.
I have started many posts and left them unfinished, questioning what to share. What is this space for? Is it for me to spill my thoughts to a page, or is it for you to read? Can it ever be both? I’m not sure. So, anyway, I’ll go for it. This may be a bit of a ramble…
It’s been a strange year so far, hasn’t it? For me, there’s probably a touch of Seasonal Affective Disorder and Vitamin D depletion after what feels like six months of near-constant rain. On rare days we have a spot of sun, I certainly feel my spirits lift. I don’t mind the occasional walk in the rain, but it’s really something to feel the warm sun on your cheeks.
A friend recently told me, “Don’t let the world get you down.”
I am reminded of the wisdom in the serenity prayer. "Grant me this serenity to accept the things I can not change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference." I must print this off and stick it on my office wall.
I think that ‘people that feel things deeply’ (like myself) are in awe of this vast and magnificent world, and head over heels in love with everything that we find wonderful. But where there is love, there is loss. That’s the contract we sign for loving our family, friends and world. Experiencing sadness or loss is part of being human.
Grief walks hand in hand with love.
I’m guilty of feeling very overwhelmed by bad news stories sometimes. There are many big things I wish I could do. I’d like to extract all the plastic from the ocean, end the child labour and sex trade and make all our rivers swimmable. But I can’t. And sometimes, I suffer from a sense of hopelessness as a result.
While I never want to live with blinkers on, I did a digital detox recently. I stayed off social media for a few days and stopped following the news, and I have to admit, I felt lighter. The problem with the internet age is that it seems to have resulted in people screaming at each other from opposite sides of the room. People are not listening to each other and certainly not having a rational discussion. Can’t we all just have a cup of tea and calm the fuck down?
I often think that much of the outrage is performative. It’s as though it helps people to fit into a group that ‘defends’ something and thus gain the social awards and superiority of doing so. People live in an echo chamber and ‘attack like rabid dogs’ anyone who says anything different, uniting over hatred. That’s why the media constantly tries to clickbait us into outrage. A click, comment or angry emoji is better than silence in a world where engagement is everything, and the currency is our attention. But ultimately, this is more than just stealing our attention; it’s provoking us to see people as far worse than they are. Media outlets are poking us with sticks until we respond like angry bears. Because we are flawed humans and that’s what we do.
So, if you’re feeling fired up, I highly recommend a digital detox. And always be careful what you read. Don’t just read the headline. And don’t read the comments! If you’re on social media, unfollow, block or mute everyone that doesn’t add to your life in a meaningful way. 😜
When I feel overwhelmed by the big things I cannot do to make the world a better place, I have to return to the tiny self-care things I can do. It feels selfish at times, but it’s essential for our well-being to look after ourselves with the same care that we tend to others. These are the things I can do for myself.
I can wake before the sun and move my body.
I can sit for a moment and sip my tea.
I can hold my children close and feel the stress leave my body.
I can listen to songs I love, loud.
I can go to the playground with my boys and swing as high as possible.
I can make dragon breath on the walk to school.
I can sit and follow my breath.
Yes, I can feel it all. And I can let it go.
Sometimes, just by doing good things where we can, it’s like throwing stones into a lake. It creates ripples. We don’t always see them. But they are out there.
Last week, my boys told me that a reliever teacher at their primary school had bought my book to read to the kids to teach them about emotional regulation.
A few days later, I ran into a local parent at the swimming pool. I had first met this man in a skate park on one of those long, looking lockdown days of trying to amuse our boys, and he’d purchased my book. He told me that his son (who struggles with anger) really connects with the breathing technique, and they still listen to the audiobook once a week.
Then, I got sent a picture of a little girl curled up in her bed with my book open to the page with the breathing practice. She’d argued with a family member, taken herself to her room to self-regulate, and was found curled up in her duvet, taking soothing breaths.
Gosh, these moments lifted my spirits. Truly. I can’t change the world. I haven’t cured world hunger or saved tigers from inevitable extinction, but there are tiny ripples of good things happening because of the inspiration people took from a little children’s book I created. I’m relishing a moment of gratitude for that.
I hope you aren’t letting the world get you down. And if you are, know that it is because you are one of those unique deep-feeling humans that can’t help but be touched by all that it is to be this weird and wonderful species. The world needs people that aren’t afraid or ashamed to be present with the pain of being a complex human.
And for now, here are a few things I love. ❤
This story…
I love this story, which proves that an individual can do big things, but it takes time. Chinese farmer Wang Enlin and his neighbours sued Qihua Group, a mineral processing and chemical production company, for polluting their homes and farmland. Wang (with just three years of formal education) spent 16 years trading corn for law textbooks with a local bookstore and hand-copying notes to take the company to court. He has won an initial judgement against the state-run multi-billion dollar company. An incredible story of determination.
This poem…
Adrift
Everything is beautiful and I am so sad.
This is how the heart makes a duet of
wonder and grief. The light spraying
through the lace of the fern is as delicate
as the fibers of memory forming their web
around the knot in my throat. The breeze
makes the birds move from branch to branch
as this ache makes me look for those I’ve lost
in the next room, in the next song, in the laugh
of the next stranger. In the very center, under
it all, what we have that no one can take
away and all that we’ve lost face each other.
It is there that I’m adrift, feeling punctured
by a holiness that exists inside everything.
I am so sad and everything is beautiful.
- Mark Nepo
Portishead - The Rip
You know when you listen to music from your past and can’t believe how unbelievably incredible it was? Portishead is one of those bands for me. I have been listening to this song on repeat all morning. If the neighbours can hear it, they must think I am mad, or perhaps they agree that I have exceptional taste in music. 😉 Either way, take a listen. It’s magnificent.
I loved reading your post this morning. It made me feel ready to face my chaotic day