Taking care of yourself when it feels like the world is going to hell

Friends, I am reeling after the election last week. I'm in some deep grief. Not just about the result of the election, but also that half of our country is suffering in ways that have been so untended to and so unheard that they are willing to vote for a person who is hurtful, racist, sexist, and encourages violence and division. Yes, some people feel renewed permission to unleash stored up anger and meanness and we are hearing reports of just such events, causing fear of what is to come. But I choose to believe that people are good, and are designed to seek connection and common humanity, while knowing that humans are also capable of inflicting horrors upon one another. I pray that our deepest fears are not realized.

On Election night, as the results were coming in and I was feeling stunned, I saw this post by my friend Christine on Facebook:

"The five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance are a part of the framework that makes up our learning to live with ________. They are tools to help us frame and identify what we may be feeling."

How about you? Are you feeling any of these feelings? 

And maybe you're feeling pleased and happy with the results of the election. And yet you are seeing the protests erupting around the country and feeling disconnected or angry at the people protesting. You may have feelings stored up for years about past presidents, the legislature, the gridlock in Washington or your home state, the hopelessness and helplessness at seeing your job disappear, or wages decline, or ....

I'm adding my two cents to all that is torrenting in the blogosphere: holding space for how you are feeling in this moment. While these steps may seem small, in my view, they are essential in developing the capacity for long term action and healing. Because we all know the problems we are facing are massive and overwhelming. 
 

What to do when life is feeling overwhelming, scary, confusing, upended?

When things are tough and I feel muddled and confused, my fallback question is:

How am I feeling in this moment?

Not how should I feel, but how am I truly feeling? 

Where am I feeling this feeling?

So often my body gives me a trail of clues. Tense shoulders clue me in that my heart is feeling locked down and protective, and covering up my belly which is full of turmoil and anxiety. 

This brings me into this moment, into my body. Part of fear is about past events and about future worries. Being in the moment can bring some relief and calm our nervous system. So many of us are living in a heightened state of fear, which triggers the nervous system into Fight, Flight, or Freeze. Our body system is priming for survival on a daily or hourly basis, living in this adrenalized state far more than it ever was designed.

This is a long game, not a sprint away from disaster. Taking a minute to breathe into these feelings helps calm the nervous system, backing away from the ledge of panic. 

The next step, as painful as it is, is to acknowledge, "OK. That's how I'm feeling right now." No need to change, to process, to talk about, to journal, to distract, to run away. Just sit with it this moment, for as long as you can tolerate it. Sometimes, sitting with it long enough, it will change on its own. It might grow bigger, it might overwhelm, it might move around your body. Or checking back in on the feeling over the course of the day you might also see changes.

If you are feeling pain and fear from this election, these circumstances are not going to go away anytime soon. I have many fears for the world, for our country, for our economy, for our environment, for minorities, for immigrants, for women. At this moment for me, I fear getting stuck in fear and anger and depression and hopelessness for the foreseeable future. Tending to my grief and overwhelm are essential for my health and sanity. I would say that tending to our ongoing societal grief and fear, on all sides, from all parties, from all corners, from all income levels, from all education backgrounds, is essential as well, otherwise the same problems will continue without resolve.

Friend, I am sending you love and compassion, for whatever emotional state you are in, wherever you are in this process. 
With love,
Marta

PS, here are some articles that may resonate with you right now.
I wrote this post this past summer about dealing with the grief in the world. I feel the advice is still appropriate.
http://innerartistry.space/blog/is-your-soul-feeling-world-weary

I love, love, love this writing from Tad Hargrave. It is about death of old ways, rebirth of new possibilities, and staying in grief and heartbreak in order to birth the new. 
https://www.facebook.com/notes/tad-hargrave/let-it-burn-on-trump-this-appalling-moment/10154247540379032
"I don’t think what’s being asked of us is to get over our hurt and heartbreak of this moment. I think we are being asked to be heartbroken already, to feel the preciousness of what may be slipping from view and weave that feeling into everything we do and wear the heartbreak beautifully for everyone to see. I think we are being asked to create beauty from even our regrets of all that we didn’t see and all of the years we might deem now as wasted. I think we are being asked to do the hard work of lovinga world that keeps breaking our heart."

About building empathy, even for those who voted different than you: http://greatergood.berkeley.edu/article/item/why_we_need_empathy_in_the_age_of_trump

Looking for the good in the election cycle:
http://greatergood.berkeley.edu/article/item/how_you_can_find_the_good_in_a_nasty_election_cycle?

Is your soul feeling world weary?

The events of the world, and our country, have been on my mind and heart lately. Yours too? Yes, I’m not surprised. We artists and creative people often feel the pain in the world deeply.

It can feel wrong to continue on with our creative pursuits, as if ignoring the world around us. Perhaps feeling guilt and grief that we have the privilege to immerse ourselves in art, while other people are just trying to survive.

I don’t have the solution for this, other than to talk about it and acknowledge it. Words are my friend, and processing always helps me. Perhaps you too.

At the same time that I get weighed down by the world, I feel like my mission in life is to help people with the inner blocks to being an artist, and if I ignore that calling for too long, that hurts too. Not doing my work, and perhaps getting stuck in depression, doesn’t actually help anyone.

The hurts in the world are very, very big. They have always been so. The difference now is we have technology and social media to make these hurts more widely known.

I have loved-hurt hearing the stories of real people and their experiences. Not the news casting it in their way. Not politicians spinning. Not the memes of social media. But real people talking about living life in brown and black skin. About getting pulled over, arrested, car towed, food spoiled, cell phone removed, lack of contact with family, threats, violence, murder, fear so ingrained that the hair-trigger is pulled. It’s painful to know the truth of these experiences.

These stories from all corners are powerful. But if we don’t have the capacity to really hear the stories, what happens? Vitriol. Blame. Accusations. Assumptions.

Hurts need airing and hearing. South Africa's leaders knew this and put it in action through the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. If you cannot hold space for your own griefs and pains in your life, then either you will get stuck indepression, overwhelm, avoidance (this is my tendency), or the path of blame, disbelief, shame, when hearing stories of systemic racism, sexism, violence and unrest around the world.

So this is my suggestion for you – practice making space for the griefs and hurts you experience. Rejected from something you auditioned for and really wanted? Hold space for your hurt, without pushing it away, logicking it to death, rationalizing, or blaming. Had a bad performance experience? Hold space for your pain. No one signing up for your studio lessons? Be with the sadness. No one is buying art from your Etsy shop? Sit with the sorrow.

(Simply sitting with our sorrow can be a massive undertaking. Here's one way I like to do this - Get Curious. As a way to remove the judgment from my feelings, I ask as many questions as I can of the particular feeling. For example - Sadness. Where are you located in my body? What do you feel like? Where is the center of the sadness? Is intensely focused, or spread thickly, or ribboned in waves? Does it move? Are there secondary locations? What words come to mind with this feeling? What does it want me to know? Can I touch it and sit still with it for 5 seconds? 30 seconds? A minute?)

(And some griefs and feelings are so powerful that it is helpful to find an ally and support for touching them. A trusted and wise friend, a professional therapist, a pastor. You get the idea.)

Two things will happen when you do this – the intensity of the pain you experience will lessen when you can truly sit with it as it is. And then, as you develop your capacity over time to hold your own grief, you will develop more capacity to be with others in their grief. Just be with them. Simply and deeply hear the truth of their experience.

(A third benefit is that healing your griefs will help you be more resilient in your creative endeavors. Releasing energy from the hurt frees up energy to devote to your work.)

This doesn't solve the worlds problems. I recognize that I am writing from the vantage point of white privilege. But saying something and doing something is better than sticking your head in the sand.
The capacity to listen and really hear the stories, even from people we strongly disagree with, can bring healing on a personal level.

Along these lines, I want your story and reactions. Taking about race can be challenging, but I'm committed to trying, even if I say something wrong. So please let me know how I can do it better. 

Now please excuse me while I sip some wine while sitting with my sorrow. 

With love,
Marta