How we get through

The first draft of a plan

I woke up this morning and said to my husband, “What is the matter with people?” I’m sad to say, I don’t have any answer to that question. I don’t know what happened. I don’t understand. I’m not sure I ever will. I’m not even sure I want to.

I was hoping for the best, but in moments, I was also preparing myself for the worst. Everyone’s in a different place. Maybe this list isn’t for you right now. Maybe it never will be. That’s totally okay

Today, I’m spending a lot of time sticking my face in my fat cat’s soft belly. I’m hugging my husband hard. I’m checking up on my daughter and apologizing to her for how much we’ve fucked the world up for her. I’m sending e-mails to my students telling them to take care of themselves until I can wrap them all up in big hugs on Friday (we don’t have class today).

But I’m also coming back to this list. I’m refining it. Adding to it. Getting ready. It’s some comfort for me. Maybe it will be for you, too. Maybe it won’t and that’s also okay. We all have to do this our own way.

Anyway, here’s the first draft of my plan for how to get through this.

1. Survive. This is the most important thing. I also said to my husband this morning, “I’m not sure if I can do this again.” I know I’m not the only one who’s feeling that. But this is our biggest imperative. We have to survive, whatever it takes. One foot in front of the other. One day at a time.

2. Take care of each other and especially the most vulnerable among us. I don’t know yet what this will look like. Right now it means checking in on your friends who seem mostly likely to be targeted by this administration. Your trans friends. Your gay friends. Your immigrant friends. Your women friends. Your BIPOC friends. Your disabled friends. Later it might mean underground networks. Or just forming community groups that are prepared to do what needs to be done. Whatever it looks like, the only way through is together.

3. Go on feeling joy. These motherfuckers are not taking away my joy. Fuck that. That is what defeat looks like and I’m not having it. Joy is also resistance. Let’s laugh. Let’s tell jokes that are funny and sad. Let’s go on sucking every crumb of delight out of this world. That is some sweet revenge.

4. Make art. They’re not taking that away from me, either. They can pry the pen and paper out of my cold dead hand. Art sustained us the last time around. We’ll need it more than ever now. Don’t let them stop you. Write the words. Draw the pictures. Tell the stories.

Soft cat belly provider

5. Refuse hate. This might be the hardest one. Really. It’s so hard. Maybe it’s too much to ask and that’s fine. I know for me that I did not like that feeling I had last time around, my heart filled with hate for the people around me. I can’t go back there. And I’m not refusing hate for their sakes. Fuck them. This is for my sake. Hate corrupts. I refuse to let that happen to me. Which doesn’t mean I’m not angry. I’m angry as hell. But I’m going to try very hard not to let that lead me to hate.

6. Take it day-by-day and step-by-step. I see a lot of people jumping to the worst-case scenarios and I get it. Jesus, do I get it. I’m not going to pretend I don’t spend time imagining me and everyone I love in a gulag. But right now, that is not happening. Right now, I can prepare for the worst while also paying attention to what is actually happening around me. Right now, it is still fall. People are still going about their lives as best they can, whether in despair or joy or indifference. Dishes still need to be done and I have control over that. The cats need to be fed. I don’t know what comes next, but I’ll figure it out when it comes. The worrying I do now won’t help me be any better prepared. It will just end up with me missing most of my life in anxiety and I’m not letting those fuckers take my life from me, either.

7. Create the bubble you need. One of the things I remember most vividly about the first time around with this idiot was the way it felt like a constant assault on our nervous systems. Every week, there was some new outrage. Every week, he raised the bar on inhumanity and idiocy. Some of that was important to know—like fighting back against his Muslim ban. Some if it was just ridiculous, if still crazy-making. Be selective in what you pay attention to. It will be a horrendous, nonstop spectacle. That doesn’t mean we have to watch every minute of it. Give your soft body whatever rest from the horror that it needs.

That’s it. That’s what I’ve got. Plus friends and family and neighbors and students and a town I love. But mostly right now, I have soft cat belly, which cannot be overrated.

Also, drink lots of water. Don’t forget to eat. Go outside if you can. Reach out. You’re not alone.