A note from my heart to yours
Typically, I spend a few days mid-month pulling ideas together, eager to share my thoughts, tips for job searchers, and the books I’ve read. Interspersed are journal prompts and a few strategies for designing a life with more meaning and purpose.
But this month, I have struggled.
Our country faces unprecedented challenges. So many feelings drown me – sorrow, despair, grief, and anger. Humans are intentionally hurting others. Families are broken apart, loved ones “disappeared,” and an untold number of mothers, fathers, and children will carry forever the pain and damage done to them. In the face of such systemic disruption, I’ve paced and stared at nothing - trying to understand, to grasp onto something I can do; fearing that the path we are moving on is one from which no good can come.
Know that I’m also thinking of you; you, who share with me your dearest dreams and quiet fears. I hurt for you, your loved ones, and everyone directly affected by these events. Like you, I am frightened.
Finding a Way Forward
In life design, we talk about making choices, taking baby steps, and believing that we can trust ourselves to know these shifts move us in a direction that feels more like the real us. Right now, I believe, the most vital choice we can make is to hold onto hope.
After the holidays, I took a step toward my own healing. I flew to Maine for a full week with my oldest son. He cooked some great meals, but we had no grand adventures. Instead, we sat, read, talked, and watched some admittedly mindless TV. It was exactly what my soul needed.
Being with him reminded me why I must have faith in our collective good; to trust that the world he and his generation are inheriting from us will be changed for the better to model the community and justice I dreamt of at their ages. I believe that their anger and struggle against our shared desperation will form a core of strength and righteous refusal accept what we have come to. They replenish my resolve to believe in the wisdom of the greater whole.
The Power of Small Things
Until we can reclaim the "big" joys, I am leaning heavily into the tiny ones. For example, the joy derived from the backyard bunny, pre-dawn, slipping in before the jays to get her share of the corn my partner tosses out. The amazement at the natural sculptures of snow-laden shrubs and branches.
Tiny as these moments are against the unraveling of what I have believed would never happen here, they ignite flashes of joy and wonder in me. In those fleeting moments, I feel a sense of peace. They don’t change the world, but they do change my ability to exist within it.
Keep yourself and those around you safe and sane. I encourage you to look for the little things - the tiny flickers of meaning and joy - that are right in front of us every day. They are everywhere. Choose to slow down a minute and let joy slip in.
May you find your version of the bunny.