I'm glad to be living through this right now

bc our story is going to mean something to someone, someday

Dearly beloveds,

This week,

Austin Kleon

wrote about feeling “spiritual whiplash.” It’s the feeling of being whipped back and forth by life. It’s quite sudden and unexpected - this brain-smacking against the skull. Have you ever had a concussion? It’s like that. The recovery is the same: you must be still and dark and rest and let the injury heal on its own. You will get up again. You will be okay. Eventually. Life has taught me this many times (as has the soccer field).

I don’t enjoy whiplash, but I’m still glad to be living through this time. Even as we struggle to write it down, we still should try. Our story is going to mean something to someone, someday.

A favorite NYTimes article comes to me often: “studies indicate that children learn resilience when they hear what their relatives before them have faced.” The Stories That Bind Us (gift link).

I was thrilled to wear the “I Voted” sticker last week.

My daughter, Cope and I, had a terrific time counting ballots in our small New Hampshire town. It was reaffirming to see a long line of people waiting to vote, and how quickly the lined moved. Democracy played out right in front of our eyes - no glitches or meanies. So much organization, clear instructions, a big wooden box with an actual lock on it where all of the ballots were kept. Ballots were dumped onto a table and then divided into piles of 25.

Partners came forward, counted together, and double-checked one another’s work. Some pairs knew each other beforehand and some didn’t. Few of us knew for sure which person was from which party, and it didn’t matter. You could feel the pride in the room. Everyone was kind, and we were all there because we care deeply about the democratic process.

After the ballots were carefully counted, the partnership brought their 25 ballots to the data entry team. This is where I was working. Again, working with a partner, we entered the data, which had to match the ballots, and double checked one another’s work.

Afterward, Cope and I skipped out of the middle school gym, giddy and excited for our candidate to win.

Well.

I feel let down by America. But I still love her.

(An extreme case of being let down by your country: read about Alexei Navalny, persecuted, imprisoned, and eventually killed by the Russian state. Luckily, our situations are nothing alike, but his diaries tell us much about what patriotism really is. Thank you,

Chris Guillebeau

).

Last Wednesday was the first time I can remember crying over a political loss, it felt so personal (though I was teary when Obama WON).

Two gloomy, spiritual-whiplash days later, my father-in-law’s friend, George, called.

We’ve just moved my father-in-law, Arthur, into an assisted living home. The last month has been very stressful, hard, emotional, and incredibly time-consuming (the details of finances, insurance, etc…get your stuff in order NOW is my advice). The drive is almost an hour away until he is relocated to a closer facility (“waiting for a bed” is so strange…when someone dies, you can have their bed…)

On this day, I did not have time to visit, so George asked if he could come by and pick up some stuff to bring to Arthur - who is nearly an hour away. It was such a kind thing.

I loaded George up, and as he shut his truck, I saw the political bumper sticker. I had a visceral, physical reaction, but…caught myself.

I do not understand how we see our future president so differently, but the people I love, my neighbors and friends - are all still the same wonderful people. We are simply seeing something - a person, a movement, very differently.

I don’t know how to reconcile these two, opposing truths yet, but like I’m always telling my soccer girls: possess the ball (you control only what you control), take your space, remember that the strongest shape is a triangle, and TALK.

I always knew soccer would solve all of our problems (even if it take ten thousand tries, wink wink :)

To quote Oliver Burkeman’s latest newsletter:

…there’s room for enjoyment in the middle of it all, too. I come back to John Tarrant’s observation that the average medieval person lived with no understanding of when the next plague, famine or war might come along to utterly upend their lives. If they’d waited until the future looked dependably bright before gathering for festivals, or creating art, or strolling under the stars with friends, they’d have been waiting forever. So they didn’t wait. You don’t need to wait, either.

Don’t wait. Keep gathering, keep talking. Keep reading; it’s a window into the soul of another human. And I love windows.

And definitely keep writing. It will mean something to somebody, someday.

Love, Amy

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*Word of the Week: Sonder*

Sonder is a noun that means the realization that everyone has a life as full and complex as your own. It's the feeling that each person is the central character in their own story, while others, including yourself, have supporting roles.

Thank you

Adam Grant

for this new word in my life…

The key word for me is “awareness.” If we simply try to be more aware of one another, how can we not be on our way to winning…

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