Navigating turbulent days

I have friends who are celebrating having fallen in love in 2020, and friends who, like me, have lost people they love to COVID in recent months. Others who have had their finances wrecked, jobs lost, and are having a hard time seeing a way forward, musician friends who have not only lost work, but a sense of purpose and calling. Friends who are getting divorced, friends who are celebrating new babies. Friends who are profoundly lonely, and others who are wrestling with serious or terminal illness. And some who are launching new adventures that seem full of possibility. Folks are having as many experiences as there are people to have them. There’s no generalized experience of this time.

That said, there are a lot of extra stressors these days. Even the good things come with their own stress. Looking around, it seems that for many of us, our emotions are staying close to the surface and raw, making us hard on ourselves and the people around us, quick to judge, and quick to feel injured. Meanwhile, lots of us have a lot of time to think right now, and a lot of time alone, meaning that old issues we have looked away from, intentionally or carelessly, have time to catch up with us, and while that can be healthy, it’s not fun.

Maybe all times are challenging times. Maybe the pervasive sense of uncertainty in the air these days is just an honest look at how things always are — stability was always an illusion, and things always were more precarious than most of us admitted to ourselves. Still, these days feel harder. If you’re struggling, like so many people are, I hope you’ll reach out to people around you and ask for the support you need. You’re not alone in this.

I don’t have much wisdom to draw on to navigate these days. I just know that we need each other, and a little bit of grace and forgiveness—for each other and for ourselves—goes a long way toward healing.

Hang in there, friends, and please let me know if there is anything I can do for you. I seem to be as busy and over-committed as ever, but I’m also struggling to discern what my work is these days — the guy who literally wrote the book about discerning what is ours to do. So I’m grateful for any grace, guidance, and forgiveness you can offer to me, as well. Hard days.

Last week I was texting with a friend who was in a lot of emotional pain. This friend is an extremely generous person, and is hurting deeply. I wrote this to my friend:

If I sent a friend to you and said, ‘Please take care of my friend, who is hurting,’ I know you would do everything you can to take care of them. I’m doing that now. Please take care of my friend. My friend is you.

That’s my wish for you today. Please be gentle with yourself. That’s a worthy goal in and of itself, and it also may lead to finding the strength and compassion to be gentle with the people around you, and maybe re-weaving some of the fabric of our communal wholeness. Hang in there.

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