Hello, Slow Take readers! We have some new folks here. I’m Heather Lanier, author of Raising a Rare Girl and Psalms of Unknowing, and this is my occasional newsletter inviting us to lean into what makes us feel more human. Welcome! Today’s post offers a reflection on how to handle the news cycle and not get scattered into a million bits. Thanks for reading!
When I was in 8th grade, my dear friend Julie gifted me with a small wooden box she painted bright blue. Inside the box were tiny cards. Each card was inscribed with a word in Spanish, and beside that word, a cartoon of an angel acting out the sentiment. Paz (peace)—angel lounging beneath a tree. Creatividad (creativity)—angel perusing a wall of art. Equilibrio (balance)—angel on a tightrope. You pulled the card in times of curiosity or distress or transition, when you needed guidance from something bigger and wiser than you.
I’ve given or thrown away many things in my life, including all my prom dresses during an aggressive Kondo-ing period I now regret. But I held onto this box of “angel cards.” I sometimes go years without consulting them, but occasionally I ask a question, draw a card, and then let that card sit on my dresser until I feel it has served its purpose.
My recent question was something like: “How can I consume the news without devolving as a human?”
Perhaps you can relate.
The card I drew? Integridad. Integrity. I read the dictionary’s first definition.
Integrity (n): (1) the quality of being honest and having strong moral principles.
Hmm. It seemed somewhat relevant. How could I retain my moral principles while consuming news? I could read widely across credible sources. I could always fact-check what I share with others. I could not let the news sweep me up in so much outrage that I become hateful.
But then I read the second definition:
Integrity (n): (2) the state of being whole and undivided.
Ahah. That was the definition I needed. Since January, my attempt to wrap my brain around all that’s going on has left me feeling split into bits. My attention is scattered. My mind isn’t always where my body is. My soul feels divided by so many things, including the 10,001 attacks on human rights, my belief in humanity’s inherent goodness, my fear for the future and America and the most vulnerable, and my literal work I need to get done. As a person, the news has made me far-from-whole.
So I’ve been sitting with this question. How can we stay informed and still live in a state of wholeness? I don’t have all the answers. But sitting with this question for two months has led me to a few ideas. Here are some things we can do:
Give ourselves wholeheartedly to the work that’s ours to do. Cashier at the grocery store. Teacher in the classroom. Caregiver to your grandkids. Your work still matters. Even, and probably especially, in times like these, when Love is the opposite of what’s running the country. When it’s time for us to do our work, we can bring our presence and love to it as wholeheartedly as we can. This pertains whether we’re preparing a legal brief or trimming our disabled kid’s toenails (like I did this weekend). Attempting this might lead you to #2:
Take concentrated chunks of time away from email / the internet / news. I can no longer skim the headlines at breakfast like I used to. It’s a can of snakes. Now I postpone news-reading for the first few hours of my day, while I’m concentrating on deep work. Maybe you want to get offline after 5pm, or step away between 10am and 2pm. Whatever the parameters, I’ve found that carving out a specific time in my day, a time when I will not let the chaos fracture my thinking, to be vital for any sense of wholeness. Then, when I let the world in via the news, I have an anchor to my self. The news is still devastating. But I’m less destroyed. And I have more clarity and energy for action.
Channel our energy. When I attempted to know everything I could about everything possible, I was pulled in a million directions. I felt both urgent and powerless. The world doesn’t need me in that state. We can choose the issues we know and care about most. We can channel our energies there. We can trust that other well-informed people will show up to the other fires, the ones they know best how to fight. And when we have the reserves, we can rally behind them.
One of my focuses is disability rights and education. So when 17 red states sued the US government, demanding that a decades-old disability rights law be deemed unconstitutional, I did everything I could. I amplified the voices of disability rights activists. I shared verifiable facts —and phone numbers of senators—on social media. I put my other writing projects aside and wrote an op-ed, “Republicans Cannot Successfully Pit Disabled People Against Trans Folks.”
And then, I rested. The lawsuit was put on pause. When I got back to writing, I intentionally gave my brain a break and sought playful projects that brought me joy. Which brings me to:
Pause when we need. We can take breaks. We can seek pleasure and joy and delight. These things aren’t extraneous in a context of oppression; they are essential. They not only help us feel more whole; they help us participate in the celebration of life, which is still, even now, a gift. I’m reminded of Dan Savage’s comments about the AIDS epidemic: “During the darkest days of the AIDS crisis, we buried our friends in the morning, we protested in the afternoon, and we danced all night. The dance kept us in the fight, because it was the dance we were fighting for.”
What are we fighting for? So many things. But for sure, we are fighting for wholeness, not just individually but collectively. So even as people in power seek to scatter us—from ourselves and from each other—let’s orient our compass toward that which keeps us whole and centered.
Tell me, what are your ways for managing the news? For keeping yourself whole while fighting for what is good and true? In solidarity.
p.s. — I hope you’ll read my full op-ed, Republicans Cannot Successfully Pit Disabled People Against Trans Folks, over at The Philadelphia Inquirer. Here’s a gift link.
Thanks for using your voice so eloquently in this piece and your op ed to make the world a better place. I, too, have a daughter with a disability and appreciate your advocacy.
Thank you for sharing your wisdom and much needed suggestions. Thank you also for pointing me to your great op ed piece.