Despair

I wrote a lame poem this morning. I think I should have entitled it "Winter's Nap" because the gist of it was that I wanted to take a long nap and have people wake me when the next upsurge of nice humanity came about. It's like- the laziest response to evil ever. I should have more shame.

The problem is that I am lazy. I'm not competitive. I have very little "oomph." Everyone who knows me well knows this.

When I was growing up and playing whatever team sport my parents had me trying, I often had the same kind of experience. If I had zero natural talent in whatever sport it was (like soccer, which is- from what I can see- nothing but sprinting from one end of the field to the next: the worst sport ever)... I would quit. If I had an ounce of natural talent or at least seemed to be on par with my peers, I would try it for a little longer until it got too hard. So swimming and tennis got the most of my time. Swimming I had a head start, my lifeguard trained mother had me swimming before I was two years old. In kindergarten, I was the only kid swimming laps horizontally- so naturally I won all blue ribbons. Yay me! Then people started learning how to swim like me, and they started caring about being fast (rather than pausing to wave at my family). Also I started getting ear infections, the gunshot to begin the race was startling, and having my hearing aids out (not water proof) meant I couldn't hear for an entire swim meet. It got too hard. Also lots of swim practices start at like 7am. Ridiculous. Tennis. I got in fairly early in the game, was able to hit a ball remotely well and often played with folks who could position the ball within three feet of me so that I didn't have to run that far. Then people got crazy good at tennis and the object was to keep the ball away from me so I couldn't hit it back. I stopped playing in middle school and never looked back. I told you I am lazy.

I think my laziness lends itself to despair a little too easily. On a day when I hear that one of my favorite places (Berlin) was attacked at one of the most fun things (a Christmas market), I feel despair. Then in the night, a woman who lives a mile away from my house, woke up in her early-onset Alzheimer's mind and wandered to her frozen death outside. Despair. Trump says something awful and people get upset and people defend him and nothing actually changes. Despair. The electoral college does not surprise us. Despair. We feel pressure to buy all of the things for all of the people because "tis the season" and even disaster in Aleppo won't slow our consumerist nightmare. Despair.

It's just all too hard. There is too much work to do to keep this tiny worthless light flickering in the dark. It seems like evil got a huge head start and private lessons while I waltzed in with threadbare tennis shoes after a bad night's sleep. I give up. Despair!

I hate being in this place. But I am afraid to admit that I hate being in despair just a little less than I hate having to do something. I use despair as my crutch. I'm so scared of all the hard work it takes to make a difference. I really do want to take a long winter's nap. To skip all the hard work. I disgust myself. Really.

Every now and then my husband and I wonder if it is possible to have a family and be good parents and also be a powerful source of change. Think about it. I just looked up Susan B. Anthony: no kids, no spouse. I think she knew it would get in the way. Martin Luther King, Jr. had a family- but they were not spared the sacrifices. Who else? Even really popular mega-pastors who aren't even doing ALL that much for humanity are totally doing it at the expense of their family. Have you ever seen a prophet with a fully-functional family? My point is that I'm scared. I don't want to sacrifice my family. I don't want to give up my nice and comfortable quiet family nights. I'm lazy. I'm scared. Despair.

Despair is a real bastard. It paralyzes you so that you can't do a thing to fight it off. You can't do a thing to effect change. I am fighting it today by not sleeping. That's literally my first step. I might fix myself some hot tea later- which will be a huge success. I ate lunch today- also a victory. Perhaps tomorrow despair will have let its guard down just long enough that I'll even feel like I can hope or do something outside of myself. If I can fight despair long enough to leave my house and help someone- anyone- then I have a fighting chance. That's why it's so exhausting. To fight despair (my kind, brought on by a laziness when faced with overwhelming BLAH)- you have to constantly be distracting yourself with good deeds. It's the only thing that will stop me from the crutch, and the only thing that potentially could make a difference. It gets me outside myself long enough for me to stop it with my self-insulating despair.

My brand of despair is fear of the fight. Paralyzing laziness. Hopelessness because I'm not sure I have it in me to do the work required. It's equal parts reality check and gut check. I see the real world and don't know if I have the guts to keep up the fight.

So today as I feel this, all I have in me is to fight the feeling. I can't make grand social impact today. Today I am not a prophet. I'm sitting on a sofa willing myself to get up off of it. But I'll tell you what. I'm about to set this computer down, go make myself hot tea, and wash the damn dishes. I don't want to. But I'm going to. Then I'm going to make dinner. Then I'm going to look at Christmas lights. I will not read or watch or hear the news for the next several hours because despair has too tight a hold on me. When I resurface: my kitchen will be clean, my stomach will be full, and my kids will have made a memory. Maybe that will be enough light for tomorrow.