For so many years that I forgot how many, I wrote a new love letter every week, only taking time off for vacation or illness.
But several months ago, while grappling with insomnia in the run-up to last year’s elections and an incredibly full schedule, I decided to cut down to twice per week. And with my interview-based podcast, I stopped writing as much, just sending intros to my podcasts.
Since the inauguration, I’ve realized how important my writing practice is to me, how much it centers, orients, grounds me. I’ve returned to my regular journaling process, rewritten my book, and rededicated time in my calendar to writing.
And yet, I’ve been grappling with what to share with you.
I’ve wanted better answers. Part of me longs to be a teacher in this time who consoles with pithy statements. To know just the right thing to meet and match the moment and resonate perfectly with each reader’s experience.
Now, it’s not that I expect myself to know more or chide myself for not.
But wouldn’t it be lovely to have the answers right now?
And yet, I feel all the fears that so many of us do right now. I’m scared for the safety of my loved ones. I’m scared of how I’ll pay rent if the economy collapses. I’m scared that my state-funded healthcare could go away. I’m scared for my teenage son’s future. I’m scared of how funding cuts may affect my town. I could keep going, as I know you know.
It’s not that I walk around scared all the time, of course.
But I’m just like everyone else. Of course, I have trouble sleeping sometimes.
So, when my client shared this morning that she’s sitting with how scary it is to consider future things in the midst of so much uncertainty, part of me wanted to respond, me too! As her coach, part of me wanted the perfect answer, the just-right response that would console her fears.
And the part of me that is recommitted to writing and practicing what I preach asks the scared part a simple question I’ve come to rely on to pivot myself toward clarity—What do you know to be true?
Here’s what I’ve got for today:
1. Remember: We don’t know what will happen
Daniel Kahneman, Nobel Prize laureate for his work in decision-making, writes that to make wise decisions, we need the outside view—data from situations similar to the ones we face. And yet, in these times that are not quite like anything our country has ever faced before—an ongoing, unattempted coup and dismantling of the federal government—I wonder what counts as the outside view.
So I Google, What would Daniel Kahneman say about these times?
AI answers, Kahneman believed that people should accept that the world is often incomprehensible. He also believed that people tend to overestimate their knowledge of the world.
I take this to mean that wisdom in these times emerges from looking up and out at what’s happening in the world, choosing our sources wisely, and yet not jumping to conclusions about what will happen next.
2. Seek good questions more than answers
When we look for perfect answers, right answers, complete solutions, we’re far more likely to feel stuck, like a deer in headlights, not knowing which direction to turn.
To find our next step, and our next, we must stretch our curiosity, admit our longing for better answers while not pretending we have them, and stay with the questions longer than we’d like. Then make our best guess.
3. Find your homebase and remember what feeds your soul
For me, it’s sitting on the front porch in the mornings, writing. And dancing—swing, salsa, contra—my commitment statement this year is Katherine fucking dances :). And I have been—most weeks, twice a week.
And lately, I’ve been imagining a safe home inside myself where the scared part of myself can curl up. (I invite you to imagine a safe home inside yourself, too, with all the blankets and warm yummy drinks you want.)
The more we tend to the scared parts of ourselves, the easier it becomes to not grasp for right answers and, instead, guess what will meet our needs.
I still want better answers. I have so much love for the part of myself that wants to make everything alright. And, yet, I am recommitting to being humble, and to being in the questions with you.