Lots of people are feeling hopeless and upset right now, and for good reason. It’s normal to feel like no matter what you do, things are going to get much worse for a lot of people. Blame, despair and anger are natural reactions, but as the shock of the situation dulls, what’s your plan going forward?
Call me naive, but seeing hate have a resurgence makes me want to do more to help the people that are going to suffer the most. I’m going to make a plan to volunteer more of my time and resources to help organizations that need it. I’m going to see if my friends can organize with me to sponsor a migrant family. I may not be able to do much, but my personal way of coping with shitty situations is to try to make the world a little less shitty.
I’m going to try to be kinder and more forgiving with people, and be a better role model for my kids. And I’m going to resist and fight back against hate when I see it.
Lastly, I’m going to be a more supportive friend to the people in my life. And to anyone reading this that feels like this world’s gone insane, and you’re all alone: you’re not. We’re still in this together, and I appreciate everything you’re doing.
I took a drive today. Around my old stomping grounds, streets I haven’t driven down in years if not decades. Past the hospital where I was born, past the high school I graduated from. Down the highway where my driver’s ed teacher when I was 15 kept bitching at me to lift my head off the headrest. I made sure to drive that stretch of road with my head on the headrest.
I drove past my great grandmother’s old house, where some of my earliest memories were formed. It’s been standing abandoned long enough that trees are growing through the porch now. Past the Yamaha dealership where I bought my first motorcycle, which is now a machine parts warehouse. Past the airport where I got my pilot’s license.
I stopped at the lake by my old college and walked the trail around it, stopping at some of the little fishing piers, benches to look at the lake and the woods. I stopped at the foot bridge over the creek that feeds the lake and just looked upstream and listened to the water babble over the tree roots.
The entire time I was out, my mind could only do two things: hum Auld Lang Syne and envision swimming straight out to sea.
On a related note, the above text felt like an answer to this question.