How I’m Finding Hope for 2021

What a year 2020 was. And 2021 isn’t looking a whole lot better. It’s been a shit show, and it appears the shit show isn’t stopping anytime soon. In the midst of that, I have been the recipient of important lessons and incredible gestures of kindness, love and support. I thought I’d share some highlights, if you’re interested. And I would love to hear what has been helpful for you.

Lately I haven’t felt much energy to write. (Lately, as in the last four years.) Some of that was because I felt my writing didn’t matter much and so I found myself feeling less and less inspired. My writing may not be my next budding profession, but I recently learned of someone who reads what I write and she encouraged me to keep it up. Her words brought tears to my eyes as she thoughtfully articulated what my writing meant to her. I tear up now as I think about her text. Two lessons for me:

  • Do not underestimate the impact of your actions on another, positively or negatively. Remember that with your words and deeds.
  • When someone does something that inspires or encourages you, say something. That affirmation might be exactly what he/she needs to keep it up.

These last four years have continually and painfully revealed our differences. We have felt them in this country on a collective scale. But we have also felt them in very personal ways, within friendships and our own families. Some differences I’ve encountered: the importance of character; political solutions; religious priorities; how we define “Love they neighbor”; who we see as the marginalized; what we define as true; which sources are reliable and maybe more importantly, which ones are unreliable… These differences have robbed joy, hope, community, connectedness. I know that these differences didn’t just appear, but they seem to be deepening. What continually pulls me through the awfulness and renews some semblance of hope is this:

  • Remember the humanity of the other. When I lose sight of your humanity, I lose a bit of my humanity in the process. When I remember your humanity, no matter how different you are from me, there is common ground to be found. And it is there that we might be able to build something, if you are also willing.

Convictions matter. What you believe should drive who you are and the legacy you build. But convictions have been at the heart of much of what we have seen in our divisions. And our divisions seem to be becoming increasingly toxic. Shouldn’t our convictions be making this world a better place, not worse? As I consider the work I have done and continue to do, I can see how I have contributed helpfully. But I can also see, when I take the time to be honest with myself, how I have contributed to the toxicity as well. There have been many times, exhausted or frustrated or a combination of the two, that I have deferred to behavior that ended dialogue rather than contributed to it. I can also see examples of my own arrogance and self-righteousness. Not an enjoyable picture, but an important one to see and examine. My next lesson:

  • Convictions have positive impacts and have negative impacts as well. A positive is that they provide clarity of meaning and purpose. A negative is that they create blindspots. We must continually seek to understand how we are contributing positively, and how we are part of the problem. If you can’t see both, you are more likely contributing negatively than positively.

My goal was to end 2020 with 11 days off AND two weeks of accumulated vacation time as a cushion moving forward. That cushion would provide me with a safety net if something unexpected happened. In a year of quarantine, the goal felt particularly important. In order to reach my goal, I went almost a year and a half without taking one full week off. I would take long weekends here and there, but that’s it. July 2019 was my last full week away from work. For those who don’t know, I work as a chaplain at a hospital that primarily cares for pregnant women and newborns. Note that they don’t call the chaplain for cases that go well. The grief I regularly companion others in is deep and difficult. Self-care, including time away, is essential to doing my work well and staying in my role longterm.

By September of 2020, I was on course for achieving but seriously doubting my goal. I stayed the course while finding ways to practice self-care, though noticeably limping along as I did so. Part of what prevented me from changing my plans was the fact that many of my colleagues also seemed to be limping along. It didn’t feel fair to take more time off because they needed it as much if not more than me. So I kept my eyes on the prize and I finally reached my vacation. I finished 2020 with 11 days off IN A ROW and more than two weeks in my bank of vacation hours accumulated.

The day I returned, I was welcomed with a heavy and full caseload. I noticed I not only had energy for the needs of that day, I finished the day tired, but not depleted. My time off had accomplished what I had hoped. I was not only rested, but my reserves had been refilled. Lesson learned:

  • Self-care is essential to being one’s best self. Take time in small ways and big ways to care for oneself. Self-care is about knowing oneself, tending to oneself, healing and restoring oneself.

None of these lessons were new, though they have taken on new meaning. And they proved to be helpful in navigating these last few years. Each one has also helped make space to see and experience God in all of this, something that has been downright challenging these last four years. Too often the focus on faith has been about victory or blessing. I gave that up when I began to take seriously what Jesus had to say in the Gospels. But to learn what it means to love God with all of my being, to set aside what I want, to love especially when I don’t want to, to care for the marginalized – the lessons of faith, the point of faith – have been much richer in the darkness.

My hope in recounting what has helped thus far is that it might inspire you to explore what has been helpful for you. With how 2021 has started, I’m guessing we’re going to need all the help we can get. In spite of what the year brings, I hope that we can all finish 2021 saying:

  • I did my best.
  • I learned some things.
  • I honored and protected the dignity of others.

Feel free to let me know how I did. Godspeed.

Bone-Tired Tired

I guess I’m fortunate that I haven’t had too many seasons in life that were so chaotic I was stripped of nearly all my reserves. And if I had any reserves right now, I’d be grateful for that. It’s not just been an awful year. It’s been a slow building depletion of the last few years. Thank God I’m good with self-care because I can usually get the energy I need on most days to stay relatively healthy and well. But I recently realized that the reserve tank is empty. On the days I don’t have quite what I need, I simply stall and sometimes putter out.

This is helpful to realize. To name and sit with.

I’m not sure if I can build up reserves right now. That feels too lofty and I don’t have energy for lofty goals. It’s time to be practical and focus on what is right in front of me. So if you are at all with me, I thought maybe it might be helpful to share how I am doing that.

  1. Take care of my physical self. Eat well and get enough sleep. Don’t drink too much alcohol, as tempting as that is. Move and strengthen my body. (Having a very active dog with adorably pleading eyes helps.) I didn’t make huge changes to my physical self-care. But I found small ways to improve how I care for my body. I might not be able to change what I am going through, but my body can help me to better endure the stress and strain.
  2. Know what has to be done and what can wait. Bills need to get paid. Garbage needs to be taken out. House does not need to be spotless. Animals need to be fed. Projects do not need to be started. Plans can be postponed. Annoying friend can wait. Being clear on my non-negotiables vs. negotiables helps me adjust my schedule as needed.
  3. Always make time for what feeds my soul, even if it’s just for five minutes here and there, and do it multiple times throughout the day. Earlier I spent a few minutes sitting on my porch, eyes closed, listening to the rain fall. It was cathartic. I use my breathing app to remind me to take deep breaths, one minute at a time. I fill my bird feeders and watch them be used as I drink my morning coffee. I stare at the dusk sky. I listen to music that gives me hope. I read poems that name my heartache. I knit because it’s meditative. I write. These moments do many things: help me to recalibrate, remind me of who I am, ground me. Collectively the moments make a big difference.
  4. Be accountable. It’s easy to fall off the path on a good day. When life is chaotic, it’s nearly impossible to stay on the path unless I track what I’m doing and how I’m doing it. I set small, attainable goals (I’ve already mentioned most) and track my progress. I don’t beat myself up when I fall short. But I experience much more success when I set goals and track my progress than if I were to just try to do my best.
  5. Practice love and gratitude. It’s easy to complain. It’s easy to hate. It’s easy to divide. It’s easy to be entitled. Love and gratitude require intentionality. I have people who are easy to love and things that are easy to be thankful for. I challenge myself to love those who are not easy to love and be thankful for tasks I’d rather not be thankful for. My experience is that while energy gets depleted, there is something magical about it too. I’m not exactly sure what happens – more energy or better use of energy or what – but it’s the equivalent of physical self-care for my mind and heart. Love and gratitude do something wonderful. And when I am depleted, there can’t be enough wonderfulness in my life.

Maybe there are other things but I feel like those five are the primary ways I have avoided getting consumed by what is going on. So far.

Now I need a nap. I guess that should’ve been number six – nap often.