Stirring Point

This week was a bust. I spent more time in my head than I did in the world. From home to work; from work to the gym; from the gym to writing class. I moved constantly but spent each day enveloped by distractions. No writing, no meditation, no depth of thought. Exercise was painful. Silence was a plight. It felt like the chaos in the world stole my calm. In reality, I read too many articles and gave into the mania. There’s no one else to blame. I know better.

We’re in troubled times. Hatred and derision are everywhere. We’re plagued by politicians and oligarchs working to assemble a kratocracy. Their barrels are aimed at the hearts of their enemies, but in due time, their bullets will scar their own people, too.

I’m not here to talk politics; we’re all barraged with more of it than we can stand to bear. But decency, reason and respect are blindfolded against the wall, ready to have their brains splattered. I can hear the hammers cocking. Can you?

Our emotions are steering us, and we must step back and breathe. Last week, I felt the swell of abhorrence draw the bile from my stomach. Civility backstops the slide into hate and my civility toward the architects of our modern political cancers began slipping. Hate is a hard place to return from; it’s a difficult stench to wash off.

Of course, it doesn’t have to be this way. We can slip from time to time and quickly stand to dust ourselves off. Last week felt like an illness—the flu—a cold I couldn’t shake. Today, my airways feel clear; my strength has returned. The fever dream was a mirage. Peace is available. 

Why write about this? Well, the world will remain a mess, and vulnerability is a broom that helps us sweep up some of the trash. Maybe you felt this way too this week. Maybe the madness snares your ankle next week. Or some other affliction steals your air. Whatever happens, you’re not alone if you choose to be vulnerable.

Our well-being, while deeply affected by our environment, is still an act of cultivation. And cultivation takes real effort. But once we’ve trained our minds to access equilibrium through practice, the climb back to a healthy perspective isn’t so steep.

Do the work your mind deserves, especially through the uncertainty of our modern times. I’m off to take my own advice.