What we need

More tips to get through hard times

i held an atlas in my lap
ran my fingers across the whole world
and whispered
where does it hurt?

it answered
everywhere
everywhere
everywhere.

—warshan shire

---

The news is horrifying and heartbreaking, and everyone I know is feeling it. Emotions are just below the surface, so easy to tip over into tears. I know I’m not the only one.

This seems another week for survival strategies—for tips on how to get through hard times (see last week’s version).

This one is simple: In times of stress and distress, I ask myself a basic question: What do I need to get through this?

“This” could be an overwhelming month or week, it could be a tough meeting or conversation—it could even just be a difficult hour.

What do I need to get through this?

The answers are often surprising. Sometimes I need a nap or a dance party or a vent session with a friend. But sometimes I need to stand outside barefoot in the grass. Sometimes I need to tune it all out with a silly podcast (the sillier the better). Sometimes I need to write it out in a frustration-filled journal entry, leaving my feelings on the page. Sometimes I need to take a task—or ten—off my plate. Sometimes I need to lose myself and my troubles in a task.

Sometimes I need to give up cooking for the night, rely on items from the freezer, and let the dishes soak. Sometimes I need to wrap myself up tight in a blanket, rock back and forth, and cry. And sometimes I need a friend to just be with me—not talking about things, just being there. There is comfort in communion.

Whatever that thing is, I try to give it to myself—no second thoughts. If it is within my power to grant a wish in hard times, I don’t see the point in holding out.

So, if times are feeling terribly hard right now, what do you need to get through it?
I hope you can give it to yourself, even if only just a little.

I wanted to share another resource with you.

This week, my favorite book on grief was released in paperback. Marisa Renee Lee’s Grief is Love is what I have been sending to friends navigating loss—though, really, this is a book for us all. I am realizing that grief is a state we will move in and out of over our lifetime—with more or less intensity—and that we are always missing those we love.

Also, grief is not only for loss of a person—it’s possible to grieve the loss of dreams and plans, the loss of security or safety, the loss of identity, the loss of friendship, the loss of community or home. (Personally, I have a lot of climate grief these days).

We don’t talk enough about grief in this culture, and this beautiful book, which is such a testament to love, is an important step toward changing that.

Yesterday I sat in on a conversation between Marisa and Elaine Welterroth, talking about the difficult times we find ourselves in. As always, Marisa had excellent advice:

“In these moments of collective grief, if you are not someone who is directly impacted by these events, I think it’s good for our mental health to ask: How can I help? How can I be of service? There are so many meaningful ways to be in community. Are people feeling safe? Is there something we can do to support neighbors who are in our community?”

---

This weekend I’m going to be thinking about how I can help—are there organizations or community groups who could use extra support right now? How can I be there for my friends who are closer to this tragedy than I am?

What I know is that burdens shared are burdens lessened, even if it feels like a drop in the most massive oceans of need. It all helps. And it will help my heart as well.

Wishing you the best in navigating these days, and sharing some resources I’ve found helpful:

To read: A Lot of Things are True, by Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg
To donate: World Central Kitchen
To do: (in the US) call your elected officials and the White House