We are less than a week away from the election. How is everyone doing? How am I? I am still swinging back and forth on the pendulum. Uncertainty looms like a dark cloud, like a thick fog. It feels heavy. Last week’s head cold blanketed my senses, providing a kind of reprieve. I lacked the energy I could spend following my anxious thoughts down any of my customary rabbit holes. I committed myself last week to reading only one news publication, which is easily accessible through the app on my phone. I have continued this practice into this week. Reading only the morning newsletter and allowing that to be enough for the day. This means diligently swiping away each tempting headline that fills my newsfeed, my inbox, and my text messages. This practice is time-limited, content-limited, and intentional on my part. It has lent a bit of control in a moment in time that seems completely out of control. It is hard to judge the impact of my “news fast.” It's not a true fast; it is more of a restrictive diet. But I think it has been helpful. I have also spent little time on Instagram and have immersed myself in reading.
What am I reading as our democracy teeters here on the edge? I am glad you asked. I am currently wading slowly through the woods with Robin Wall Kimmerer. She is a faithful guide, stopping and pointing to, naming scientifically and in her own native Potawatomi language, the plants, trees, and fungi filling my imagination and feeding my longing for a better world. In her book, “Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants,” she brings to life the teachings of her people. A way of life that asks the earth for permission to take from it. A way of life that instills respect, taking only what is needed and leaving the rest to the earth. What a wonderful escape this has been, a whole chapter dedicated to the renewing of the pond on her property. Working with nature and enjoying restoring her pond to health. She writes this with such sweetness and love for the plants of our earth. A reverence for them, a seeing of the plants as living creatures. I have almost completed the book, and I know I will miss my time with her. She lays out the world in which I want to live. A world where all of creation is loved, respected, and cared for. A world far from the hate ads that blare on the TV.
It has been a nice diversion. But it’s a diversion nonetheless. The real world looms large. Wars are going on all over the world. Innocent people are affected in devastating ways. The Christmas commercials have started with a focus on excess. Wants that seem out of touch with the world we are living in. Hate rules the day, and a simple walk in the woods won’t do much to change that, but it could change me. I recognize in my own life a need to be thankful for what I have. I see my burning bush out front almost fully red. Scientifically known as euonymus alatus, it is an invasive species. It stands like a royal guard at the end of my driveway, and I am somehow comforted. And like a friend stated, “Well, at least the leaves will still be beautiful if Trump becomes president, that won’t change.” That’s right, and my sweet red sentinel will be faithfully adorned in all his spender.
Whatever happens in this election, many things will remain. The beauty of the leaves, the rich red of my burning bush, the wiggle of our dog Tanner when he meets us at the door, and the familiar, cozy smell of my pumpkin ginger candle. I truly hope that kindness wins the day. That care for each other and care for our dear, sweet Mother Earth can carry the vote.
I have hope, and I have anxiety. I will grow my gratitude; I will lean into what is good. As Kimmerer writes, “We need acts of restoration, not only for polluted waters and degraded lands but also for our relationship with the world.” (p.195) How we treat the world and all its inhabitants matters. I have cast my vote for a new way forward. I am not going back.