In Troubled Times: Finding an Inner Guide to Political Action

I first posted this November 28, 2016, right after the presidential election. I'm putting it up again as a reminder of how important it is to take care of our mental well-being in troubled times.

Like many others, I did not sleep well on election night or the following nights. Shock and dismay had hijacked my mind. I felt as if I had been catapulted into a very dark Twilight Zone episode. My thoughts went hither and yon, partly batted about by a political racquet, partly going from shiny/horror to next shiny/horror.

In my recovery from PTSD, I have learned to be protective of my sleep and my inner balance. I quickly detected warning signs and realized that I had to put my own mental and physical health first. Without that foundation, I wasn’t going to be able to make any sense or take effective action. So I set about using my “tool box” to reduce my anxiety. Besides sleep management and calming techniques, I reached out to my family and close friends. I tried as best I could to keep the focus on myself and my feelings, not politics. I took notice of which conversations made me feel better and which did not.

I felt better about myself when there was something I could do for the person close to me. Perhaps this was because I felt less powerless, but I believe it was because I felt more connected. Research suggests human beings are hard-wired to feel pleasure from helping others. Whether or not this is true, feeling valued and needed is a good thing.

So the first “movement” of my journey was to take care of myself and then to reach out to those around me.

Once I was feeling a bit more settled, I started to look around for other actions I might take. This required a great deal of filtering of news and social media. News sources inundated me with blow after terrible blow as events (and nominations or appointments) unfolded. I realized I could spend 100 hours a day on the various calls to action, and that not all of them were appropriate for me. Some would put me right back in the zone of risking my mental health.

How then are we to know how to proceed and what actions will not damage us?

We listen for that sense of rightness, no matter how frightening the prospect. I learned a great deal about this process from hanging out with Quakers. They talk about “discernment” and “leadings of the Spirit.” It’s one of the things that makes Quaker action different from other activism. One is led to take action by the promptings of the inner light, which means that arguments for or against make little difference. This made Quaker abolitionists (for example) tenacious in their cause.

What am I led to do? How will I know when that happens?

I’m still listening, and while I do that, I pay attention to small things that I feel able to do. They may not qualify as “Spirit-led,” but they seem possible. Then I notice how I feel. As an example, I wrote a letter of support to the nearest mosque; I felt lighter and more hopeful after I had mailed it. On the other hand, I felt low and discouraged after speaking with certain people I had otherwise reason to trust. I’m not likely to try that again.

I do not know how or even if this process of trial and reflection, slowly feeling my way, will lead to action on a state or national level. I’m definitely not going to fly across the country to attend a march in Washington D.C. or New York City. Because I’ve felt energized by writing letters, I am more likely to do that again. I’m considering volunteering in person at Planned Parenthood (where I volunteered when I was in grad school, before Roe v. Wade) or the ACLU, but do not yet see a clear path.

Meanwhile, I continue to practice reaching out, and find that the circle keeps getting bigger. By listening compassionately and seeking out safe places to share my own fears, I join a community of light. By sharing suggestions of actions, I become aware of those I might be willing to take, or inspire others to take actions I am not comfortable with. Who knows? Maybe knowing someone who is brave enough (or skilled enough) to do something will show me the way. Or perhaps the way will open in community once I see I do not have to act alone.

Short Book Reviews: Stealing a Human/Alien Hybrid Ghost

 Not of This World, by Simon R. Green (Severn House)

Gideon Sable--master thief, con artist, and self-proclaimed vigilante--faces a challenge he can't resist: to break into the British Area 51 and steal a ghost. Not just any ghost, but a hybrid between a human astronaut and an alien utterly bent on destruction. Although Gideon suspects the motives and veracity of his would-be client, he gathers his crew, lured with the promise of being able to walk off with whatever ultra-secret, ultra-valuable gadgets they can lay their hands on. His crew includes The Damned, armored by the haloes of two dead angels; Switch-It Sally, who can switch out just about anything; a werewolf; and Annie Anybody, capable of fully embodying an array of personas (in this case, Melody Mead, Girl Adventurer). Of course, nothing goes as planned, and this volume is, like its predecessors, jam-packed with plot twists, treachery, and revelations.

Gideon and his crew have come a long way since he first convinced them to join up with him, progressing through suspicion and animosity to grudging respect and, now, the bonds of family. In the last episode, The Damned and Switch-It Sally not only fell in love but also informally adopted the young werewolf. Gideon himself has gone from being a nameless man who inherited a legend to the emotional glue and super-planner brains holding it all together. In this sense, the book is as much about loyalty and family as it is about the present adventure. This gives a supernatural spy/con-man romp satisfying depth. I hope there will be many more books in the series.

In Troubled Times: Antidote to Despair

Following the 2016 election, I wrote a series called In Troubled Times. It seems appropriate to post these again now. This came out on December 9, 2016

Recently a friend voiced her despair about the effect of the elections and the president-elect’s nominations on the future of the planet. She said “fear” was too mild a term. Her conversation kept referencing the Permian extinction event and the destruction of the Earth. I admit I didn’t respond well. I tend to react to emotion-laden exaggerations of complex issues, and that reaction overrode the compassionate thing to do, which was to listen to her feelings. My mind flipped from a conversation about emotions to one about facts. Needless to say, she was not interested in whether current projects are for a target global warming of 3.6 degrees or 4 degrees Celsius.

In observing my own mind, I notice what I do when faced with the notion of looming ecological disaster. I run away to information. In this case, at least, I find it calming. The facts don’t change, but researching the issue and reading the considered opinions of people with legitimate scientific credentials who have studied the matter in depth changes my emotional reaction. I suspect a portion of this runs along the lines of, “Whew, I don’t have to figure this out all on my own!” I’m only one of many who are grappling with the problem.

Clearly, this was not my friend’s process. A little bit of information (the Permian extinction event plunged her into even greater hopelessness. From this I take away something so simple, its profound truth often escapes me: we don’t all cope with stressful news in the same way.

I’ve written about paying attention to what makes me feel calmer or more distraught, and then making mindful choices. Although information is helpful to me, it can also have an addictive quality. We writers joke about doing so much research on a novel project, the book never gets written. Similarly, I can mire myself in one source after another until I go numb. That numb state is a sure sign I’ve either made a poor choice or gone too far.

Blogging about my process, however, seems not to have a down side. I suspect this is because such writing puts me in better touch with my feelings and increases my sensitivity to what is good for me and what is harmful. It has the added benefit of being of service to others who are wrestling with the same issues, searching for a way through the morass of upset feelings to a way forward in what the Buddhists call “right action.”

Reaching out to others, offering my help, sharing my experience and insight and listening to their own, all these things lift me from despair.

What things help you?

Short Book Reviews: Puzzles Can't Carry the Plot

 The Puzzle Master, by Danielle Trussoni (Random House)

After a traumatic brain injury leaves him with a genius for constructing and solving puzzles, Mike Brink embarks upon a real-life riddle: novelist Jess Price, in prison for committing a notorious murder, pleads to see him in person although they have never met. She slips a baffling cipher to him, the “God Puzzle.” In trying to figure out what happened the night of the murder, what present danger has Jess terrified, and what the cipher means, Mike gets drawn into a twisted, generations-long story of forbidden arcane knowledge with the power to transform technology and humanity itself.

I loved the beginning of the book, especially the passages in which Mike sees puzzles as luminous patterns. Other than the occasional crossword, I’m not much for puzzles, so this “look-inside” was fascinating. As the story went on, with diaries telling stories-within-stories, I lost emotional connection with Mike. I distrusted his attraction to Jess as one more pasted-on artificial element. (It turned out there was a reason for the allure, but I didn’t see the signals that supernatural forces were at work.) Long passages that had nothing to do with Mike’s present quest intensified the emotional detachment. Three-quarters of the book, a series of characters arrived and proceeded, very much deus ex machina, to solve Mike’s problems for him while dumping huge, indigestible chunks of exposition. This part read as if two completely different books had been jammed together. Despite scattered scenes with action, the remainder of the book proceeded with very little sense that everything had been building to this point. In the end, Mike did relatively little to achieve his own goal or solve his own problems. The book was billed as a “thriller,” but the last part did a good job putting me to sleep. Which is too bad, really, because the material about puzzles was fascinating.

[personal] In the Aftermath...

 Thank you, everyone who has asked how I'm doing.

In the days before the election, I tormented myself with worst-case nightmare scenarios. Memories of the shock in 2020, being unable to sleep that night. Even deeper memories of growing up under the cloud of McCarthyism. Now life has created a buffer for me, in small part from anticipating the worst but also just not having the emotional bandwidth. My newly replaced knee is doing really well, but I'm in discomfort most of the time and PT exercises, stretches, icing, and the like eat up a lot of my focus.

To make matters worse, our oldest cat, Shakir, is in serious decline, most likely cancer although we aren't going to put him through expensive, invasive testing. He's 17 and frail. We're doing palliative care, which has perked him up quite a bit, but it's likely temporary. Too soon after losing Gayatri.

And to make matters even more complicated, there's another parole hearing [for the man who raped and murdered my mother] next week. Remote, so I don't have to haul myself to Vacaville. My speech is just about ready. As usual, I plan to decompress by watching the entire Peter Jackson director's cut The Lord of the Rings over the following two days. It strikes me as an appropriate thing to do after the election, as well.

We aren't facing this alone. We have one another, our work, and our dreams. Me, I'll have Gandalf, Aragorn, Arwen, Merry & Pippin, Eowyn, and Sam at my side for a bit.

Fortitude,

Deborah