Opening myself up to the news has proved difficult lately. I have never been a newshound, but I have been engageable. Recently, less so. It is overwhelming, seemingly impossible to keep up with, and difficult to get my head around. When I dip my toe in – watching, listening, reading – I end up with the same feeling I get when stuck in traffic for no clear reason: restless, powerless, agitated. Part of that is impatience. But more of it, I think, is the frustration of not being able to affect or make sense of the situation.
There are, of course, costs to withdrawal. When I retract my inquisitive, sensitive antennae and put on metaphorical blinders and noise-cancelling headphones, I walk around feeling bubble-wrapped. Underinformed. Maybe even irresponsible, entitled, insensitive, and uncaring. So, not great.
I’m not sure how to proceed, but I’m trying to follow the cues of my feeling body, to notice where, when, and how I am engageable. Because that seems important: to keep exercising the capacity to feel, to care, to experience without the requirement of understanding or a sense of agency.
Lately, that’s looked like:
- Standing still in the mashup of love, joy, and wild optimism that flooded a rooftop in New York after my son proposed to his partner.
- Letting sprouting baby clover feel tender and glorious.
- Reading a full newspaper article – just one – sitting down.
- Sitting in a foggy mood – a mix of ache, minor chord music, and wistfulness – without trying to fix or name it.
These aren’t solutions. But they are small moments of being in the world, antennae out, sound on, heart open.
Maybe that’s something.
xo Jill