Overcoming

I’m writing this on Monday, hunkering down at my desk, the cold wind and steady rain outside adding to my sense of sadness and foreboding. Thinking what a travesty it is that, on a day we honor Martin Luther King Jr, the reins are being turned over to a group apparently bent on destroying everything we stand for as a country; a group busy manufacturing outrage so that we are distracted from their end game. I’m reeling at the cruelty and pettiness on display and praying there is no more violence.

My thoughts of MLK turn to We Shall Overcome. And I’ve decided that overcoming is exactly what I’m going to turn my energy toward. I refuse to remain despairing or outraged. I refuse to worry about things I can’t control. I refuse to try to educate people who are not interested in learning. I also refuse to cave; to become cynical and uncaring. To do what’s expected of me. I resolve to do what I can to improve my corner of the world. To shine some light. To overcome.

I’m still figuring out how this will look practically, but I’ve got some thoughts (surprise!).

I’m going to seriously limit and curate my intake of news and social media. I haven’t actually watched the news in years; I find that even scanning headlines can spike anxiety in times like these. I’m now limiting myself to 1440 (www.join1440.com). Their free daily digest presents unbiased headlines along with some interesting tidbits under “Etcetera”. Their name is derived from both the year the printing press was invented and the number of minutes in each day. I’m finding this lets me stay informed without developing ulcers while sipping my morning coffee.  If you’re interested in deeper analysis, another good resource is AllSides (www.allsides.com), where left, right, and center versions of current events are offered. As for social media, I’m limiting myself to a morning scroll of Instagram (where I’ve curated my feed to include only friends I want to keep up with, inspirational content, and ridiculous animal photos) and a quick afternoon sweep through the content of writers and journalists on BlueSky, where I've migrated from the cesspool formerly known as Twitter.

I’m going to educate myself on the issues I care about. I’m not only passing on the clickbait that stirs up indignation; I’m going to dig a little deeper into things that matter to me. Instead of simply parroting the conventional wisdom I find most compelling, I’m going to get curious. I’m going to read primary sources and hear what credentialed experts have to say. So far, I’ve found Heather Cox Richardson’s Letters from an American invaluable (www.heathercoxrichardson.substack.com). She’s a historian who calmly and concisely explains political history and includes citations. I’ve also been enjoying Kate Manne’s More to Hate (www.substack.com/@katemanne). She’s a feminist and social philosopher who provides great food for thought. And I’m currently engrossed in Naomi Klein’s Doppelganger, a fascinating look, among other things, at how division and mistrust became so entrenched over the last five years. My hope is that eschewing the firehose of information (and misinformation and conspiracy theories) being directed at us 24/7 will allow me to learn where I can take effective action.

 I’m going to withdraw support from the oligarchy. I’m not deluded enough to think that my withdrawal from Meta or Amazon or Twitter (I refuse to call it by its new name) are going to have an impact, but I’m going to work towards it anyway for two reasons. First, there’s always the hope that a collective withdrawal could have an effect. Second, I refuse to become a sheep following the path of least resistance when it results in so much harm to people and our planet.

I’m not quite ready to give up Instagram as it’s my only remaining link to a number of people I don’t get to see often, but I had no problem giving up Facebook several years ago, and no problem recently giving up Threads after checking it out for a week or so. Disentangling myself from Amazon may take a bit longer, as my unexamined dependence began when I was the sole caretaker of a chronically ill child, then grew through the pandemic and my own injury. Alternative sources abound, though, and I’ll be thrilled to support smaller businesses (and maybe have a human interaction or two). Just a few of the alternatives I’ve adopted so far:

Independent bookstores (many will ship)

TheStoryGraph (www.thestorygraph.com) instead of Goodreads (which I just learned yesterday is

linked to Amazon).

Costco, whose board refused to buckle to their shareholder’s demand to rescind DEI policies.

Etsy, where you can support an artist and find quality and originality.

I’m going to support the arts. It seems that somewhere along the way, creativity became equivalent to frivolity. An extra, maybe. Which should be a crime because I believe that sharing our creativity is what enhances our humanity. The fact that our humanity is currently under threat makes this of paramount importance. I’m going to be reading books, and watching films, and visiting museums. I’m going to attend plays and poetry readings and comedy shows. And I’m going to write and dance and craft my little heart out

I’m going to cherish nature. I’m going to reject the notion that I needn’t bother because my actions alone will have no net effect on the environment. I’m going to be more mindful of my consumption in general so that waste is less of an issue. I’m going to try to leave less of a trace. And I’m going to spend more time by the water, around trees, in the mountains.

I’m going to work at creating community. This has been on my to-do list for years, and it’s never been a higher priority. I can’t change those who are committed to division and unkindness. I can’t change anything that’s about to happen, really. But I can try to foster connections on a small scale that could become a source of mutual support in times of trouble. I can check on my neighbor who is also heartbroken over current events. I can volunteer. I can get to know the service workers I encounter throughout the week. I can help out a friend who needs a break.

I’m going to flip the narrative. I’m going to focus on what’s good. I’m going to frame my beliefs and preferences in terms of what I’m for instead of what I’m against; what brings me joy rather than what threatens my peace. I’m going to engage in conversations that reflect that and avoid those that don’t. And I’m going to laugh, dammit. Often. Instead of doom, I’m going to try to spread hope. Sometimes that’s the most powerful thing we can do.

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Thanks for reading. Do you have a plan to fight despair? Or actions you plan to take that you’d like to share?