Real Talk: It's Really Hard to Write About Happiness Right Now. And Yet...
Hey, it had to be said. The last 12 days have been overwhelming. We have been hit with SO MUCH CONTROVERSIAL INFORMATION in such a short span of time. And it's not just about what's happening—it's about what "could" happen next or what "we need to do" to fix it. It's about what a "fix" could or would or should look like. And it's all so urgent that we hardly have time to process before jumping to action!
It almost feels like we're watching the world burn.
And, hey: if you're not a bleeding heart liberal, you may think I'm being overdramatic. Or, perhaps: "a whiny, emotional, safe-space-loving sissy." Okay. That's alright. I can take a burn. I am emotional. I do prefer safe spaces over violent ones. And whining feels pretty cool sometimes. I don't really think I'm a sissy, but, I mean, actually... I'd probably run from a bear if it was coming at me. So, I guess you make a valid point.
In any case, I'm not here to argue politics. I'm only here to point out the obvious: a lot of people are scared. A lot of people are confused. And a lot of people are angry.
It's overwhelming. So where does it leave someone like me? I've dedicated the last 10 years of my life to personal growth. I am finally at a point where I feel like I can spit what I've learned back into the world—but instead of lighting a fire in the hearts of a nation that feels secure, I'm suddenly trying to talk at an angry mob. And it's not even an angry mob I disagree with! I have had like eight existential crises since January 23rd (that's the day, in my opinion, when the shit started flinging itself at the fan full-speed). I have stared at my ceiling and wondered if any of this is even worth it. Does humanity even have the capacity to understand peace? Or are we stuck in an endless cycle of hatred and ignorance?
Where does this leave someone like me?
How am I supposed to preach love, compassion, and happiness to an empty room? What's more, how do I lead by example when I am falling onto some of the most cynical, angry, helpless thoughts I've had in years? I haven't cried for my country since September 11th. I was 16. As the shock of the event wore off, I broke down in total confusion and despair, "How could someone do something like that?" When the Executive Order was declared to block all Syrian refugees and immigrants from six other predominantly Muslim countries, I cried for my country a second time. "How could someone do something like that?" At 16 I wept because there were people who hated Americans so much they'd ruin innocent lives to prove it. Fifteen years later I wept because there are Americans who hate everybody else so much they'd ruin innocent lives to prove it.
It's hard to be an optimist right now.
But here's the thing: I AM an optimist. It's in my DNA. And I cannot function as a human being without it. Believe me. As hard as I have to fight to keep my optimism alive, I refuse to lose. I'm writing this post because if I didn't let you know that I am battling intense feelings of discouragement—that I am confused and saddened that we have chosen a platform of hate and intolerance over celebration and integration—I would feel like a fraud. I am writing this post because I need you to know that I need to hear your voices of love right now just as much as you may feel you need mine. And I am writing this post because I am starting to realize that while I am only one voice and cannot single-handedly change the direction of the world, I am still one voice. I am my voice. And I am going to continue to use that voice to promote courage, self-awareness, compassion, and ultimately happiness. We need these skills now more than ever.
This is where this leaves me:
I believe that we all have different strengths and when we use those strengths together we are an unstoppable force. My strength may not be in organizing crowds or directly affecting policy change—my strength lies in connecting to my center, to my power source, and in encouraging others to connect to theirs. When things get overwhelming, the two words that matter most are "simplify" and "self-care." Simplify: choose one or two things you're passionate about and go at them hard. For me, it's ensuring that our intrinsic motivations remain pure. It's about promoting a movement that values love and compassion above all else. It may seem general, but it's a way of keeping the "herd" in check. Let's make sure we don't lose ourselves in all of our reactionary anger. Let's make sure we keep centering ourselves to be driven by what matters.
I'll be here to encourage you to reconnect with your center as often as possible—to ensure your motives remain pure and your sights remain clear. Come here whenever you need a reminder.
Self-care: without it, you run out of steam. It sounds selfish and backwards, but if you don't take care of yourself, you are incapable of providing worth to others.
I'll be here to remind you that it's CRITICAL to take the time to turn off, to rest, and to recharge. I will never allow you to feel guilty for taking care of your own needs. Come here whenever you need a reminder.
Optimism can provide great strength in times of adversity. It's a misnomer that optimists are unrealistic or blissfully ignorant. No, optimists can see the big picture—and they can be dismayed by it—but they are intrinsically motivated by the belief that good will prevail so long as we remain focused with our energy to do so. I may not be able to show the whole world the benefits of optimism, but I do have a part to play in all of this. And I can share that strength with you. No matter how hard it feels, even for me, I vow to do my best to fulfill the role of empowerment and support.