5 ways I am staying calm and carrying on

A normally upbeat friend called last week. She was down in the dumps. The barrage of orders from the new administration flattened her usual can-do spirit.

I was fine. Or thought I was. A few days, and dozens of orders, firings and slanders later, I felt nauseous and exhausted. It could be something I picked up in the airport, or something I ate, but I think it’s the fully intended shock to the body politic.

I can’t even write a decent sentence now. I don’t want to indulge in outrage, deploy my tiny sword of prose against a ginormous exacto-knife that is cutting out the “demo” from -cracy and pasting in “auto”. Plenty of others are engaged in outrage, analysis, gloating, snark, analysis and more analysis.

Even though I have no clarity to offer, I can tell you five ways I’m settling my mind and finding my feet.

Hard times are the best times for artists

“This is the time when artists go to work, not when everything is all right”

Listen from 1 minute on…

When I sit to write, I come alive… mostly, as Toni Morrison says, if I get to it early in the morning. By the way, I write daily with others at 7 AM Pacific. We check in, meditate and then write for 45, cameras on, encouraging one another in our commitment to the hard work of writing… and rewriting. Want to join us?

Remember the good times

I might not see clearly at the moment, but I know myself. When I’ve seen something, I’ve said something - be it in writing books, or hosting Conversation Cafes, or my podcast, What Could Possibly Go Right? Scanning the nearly 100 interviews, I see so much wisdom and devotion - in my guests and yes, in me. I offer this one with Joanna Macy who orients us to the great work of our times. Scroll through whole library - each one a gem. Go back, as well, to something you’ve done or written with your own brand of courage, and remember you have it in you to meet the moment.

Find those organized to do the work, and support them

I can’t expect too much clarity of myself at times like these when half my kitchen appliances have failed, and a political shock and awe just hit our country.

I woke on day two of DJT (who promised to be a dictator only on day 1, right?) with my mind whirling with one after another letters to the editor about the island where I live, about how we are going to hang together, aren’t we, even if everywhere else trust goes down the toilet. Out of fear, I’d pressed myself into service as a writer, as if I had some clarity to offer. My mind assumed it was assigned to fix things not yet broken, asking little me to intervene in this big fast moving national assault on rights.

I stopped myself and asked, who is qualified to challenge every order misaligned with law, decency and compassion.

Of course! Legal professionals, governors, non-profit organizations were ready with suits and briefs and challenges. These executive orders have been well anticipated, and are going to be fought in courts. I made a list of the orders that most offended me, researched which organizations had suits at the ready and signed up send monthly donations.

Then, as a writer, I did the next task: I posted about this decision on Facebook, asking others for their top defenders of nature, justice, climate, immigrants, and people not conforming to sex assigned at conception! (wait, gender isn’t assigned until much later in gestation, and even then, it’s complicated). Here’s a document where I assembled the whole list.

OK, I did send a letter to the editor, but about a local issue.

Stick to your last

When I became an amateur ecological economist during the Your Money or Your Life years, Joe Dominguez, my co-author, would remind me to “stick to your last.” A shoemaker’s last was the form around which he crafted his shoes. His last was his signature expertise in the village.

Our last was personal finance as a route to freedom, peace of mind, and self-awareness. Our last was not inserting discussions of ecological economics into my talks. I bridled - but he was right.

What is my last? A trustworthy and honest voice, a style of seeing and writing, being a serial social entrepreneur with a sense of humor, a set of values, and now an elder. My last is also my joy. When I’m in that sweet soul flow, I’m happy.

We’ve been here before

For the very long view, I turn to the writings of Sir John Glubb who studied and documented the rise and fall of at least eleven civilizations. According to Glubb, the average life span of a civilization is 250 years. Let’s see 2025 minus 1776… we’re due. He also documented the six stages of Empire (see page 24 of the linked document if you are curious). We’re in the final stage, Decadence, “marked by defensiveness, pessimism, materialism, frivolity, an influx of foreigners, the welfare state, a weakening of religion”. That was a hard pill to swallow for someone who named her podcast, What Could Possibly Go Right?, but over time, seeing this wave pattern, I understand better how to serve.

Simpler self talk

• Hard times are the best times for artists. Also intellectuals, visionaries, priests/ saints/ social change agents, anyone who wants their life to have meaning.

  We come alive at the limits of what we know.

• My gifts are useful, my flustering around areas where I have no perspective isn’t.

• I can trust myself to give my gifts when clarity strikes. I’ve done it in the past.

• “Look for the others” as my friend

  Douglas Rushkoff
  says in Team Human. Give people and groups that do have right skills my support, and take heart that they are on it. I want them to know I’m sticking to my last as well.

There. I feel better. I hope something in here helps you to listen for what is yours to do, and to participate in small good ways to keep the faith, build trust and find your footing.