Facing the Not Knowing
The Waiting is the Hardest Part
Tuesdays I write. This Tuesday my brain is swirling with a multitude of things I want to say. The racket is cacophonous and confusing. I can’t say it all, it’s too much.
So, I will say this.
Has it really only been two weeks? I think for many of us this waiting is filled with an overwhelming mix of wishful thinking, heavy emotions, and dark thoughts. ‘What ifs’ abound. ‘Whys’ lurk around the edges. ‘Hows’ confront the comfort of our American illusions.
Not here, we’re safe, they can’t do that…can they?
It appears that it may happen here, we are not safe, and they may, indeed, do that. They’ve clearly stated that they intend to do that. They’ve articulated their plans in painstaking detail and it doesn’t appear that anyone intends to stop them.*
This is difficult to process.
This leaves us with our questions.
How fast, how far, how long, how do we navigate this brave new world? What is the future: fleeting, foreseeable, or forever?
The anticipation is not glorious. Tom Petty was right, the waiting is the hardest part. The knowing what I know is not helpful. The wavering between thinking the worst and hoping for something even a little bit better is a fool’s bargain. What is a little bit better than the worst?
I don’t know.
The ‘knowing’ and the ‘not knowing’ clash at the core.
I wake up every two or three hours with the worst running around in my brain in cleated boots, wrenching me out of fitful dreams and leaving me shaking and breathless. No, not that, that won’t happen. Let that one go. Hold on to hope. Find your center, stay balanced, don’t let the ‘not knowing’ drag you into the abyss.
If I find momentary comfort in absurdity, so be it. I cannot spin and spin and spin, it’s useless and exhausting. I must hold on to hope, retain joy, get up, get dressed, get moving, get ready.
Each morning as the sun rises, I shake off the gritty residue of my nighttime fears, pour myself a cup of coffee, and prepare to fight the good fight as long as I am able to fight it.
I take comfort in the knowing that I am not alone.
(May you take some comfort there, too, friend.)
xoxo, Margot
*Note: in referring to the appearance that there isn’t anyone intending to stop them from enacting their plans, I mean no one in a current position of power in our government. Where are our leaders? What is up with the fireside chat? No one seems to be coming to save us, so it’s up to us. Many people are planning to fight the good fight (many already are) and that is what I mean by taking comfort in knowing that I am not alone.
Margot, I think that they are going to eat their own.
I agree with those thoughts, Margo, with one exception. There are many people fighting against the jackboots. The ACLU for one. I have joined with a monthly membership to support their efforts. I and others can call, write, march (well, no march left in this old body!), and make our protestations known. I can do my part. We all can.