Boots and Blessings

When have you fought fear? When did you decide that you were not going to let it keep you from doing something you needed to do? I don't know that I ever really have. I've dealt with fear, accepted fear, even learned how to walk alongside it. But now I find it is exerting too much control. It is no longer willing to be an occasional guide, it is encroaching upon control. It seeks to lead, to depress my ability to make moral decisions out of my best thinking, out of the principles I have chosen to live by. Am I afraid? Yes, I am afraid. Afraid that this virus is even more powerful than we know. Afraid that the predatory economic system we have created will not be able to adjust to this weight, and will collapse, taking all of us along with it. Afraid, viscerally afraid, that I or people I love will suffer. This last month, fear has grown like the mythic beasts of old. It is not just me, I hear it in the words of others. We can't think. We can't sleep. When we d

This is preeminently the time to speak the truth, the whole truth, frankly and boldly. Nor need we shrink from honestly facing conditions in our country today. This great Nation will endure as it has endured, will revive and will prosper. So, first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself—nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance. In every dark hour of our national life a leadership of frankness and vigor has met with that understanding and support of the people themselves which is essential to victory. -- 1933 Inaugural Address , President Franklin Delano Roosevelt When fear prompts us to pause to check out the facts, and make measured, moral, and deliberate choices, it is a tool worth having. But if fear growls at us from behind, prompting us to run before thinking, it is no longer a tool. It is in control. We are no longer making choices. We are reacting out of our anxie

To quote one of my favorite fictional characters, Captain Kathryn Janeway, "I've known fear. It's a very healthy thing, most of the time. You warn us of danger, remind us of our limits, protect us from carelessness. I've learned to trust fear." Fear keeps us from sampling the poisonous plant, it motivates us to wear thick boots when hiking in potentially snake-filled brush, makes us more attentive to our surroundings late at night in a parking lot. It can be difficult right now, finding the appropriate level of fear. Somedays, I read a  first-person account of a medical professional who was with someone who died of covid-19, and almost start gasping for air myself. I'm overwhelmed by fear that I, or someone I love, will contract the novel coronavirus. But other days, the threat feels so far away, that all of the precautions I'm taking feel ... unhelpful. I am reminded of the game of "lava" I used to play as a kid. You could walk on sofa cus

The news is pretty scary these days. Because, to be honest, reality is pretty scary. Covid-19 is easily transmittable and can be fatal. AND we don't know to what extent this is going to affect our jobs, the economy, schools, and carbonated beverages. (I'm not kidding on that last one.) But it is far too easy for the news to be scarier to us than is warranted. I'm speaking from experience, as this weekend, I read a story and turned to The Spouse and asked, "Wait, is this how the End Times begin?" But a careful re-reading showed me that stories, even stories from reputable sources, are often written in a way that unnecessarily heightens the drama. So, Rules for Reading the News Without Provoking an Anxiety Attack:  1) Rely on reputable sources. When you see a story, check to see if it from a major news source, e.g. NY Times, Washington Post, etc., as opposed to something you've never heard of. 2) Check the date. We're learning new things about t

It is good to feel our feelings, including the uncomfortable, sad, and anxious ones. Ignoring them doesn't make them go away. We need to face the reality we're in, and be willing to examine the feelings that come up as we do so. But not set a table for them to live forever with us. Ruminate is a funny word, at least to me. It makes me think of old men out in the country, wearing overalls, whittling a stick as they sit in a rocker on their porch, ruminating about ideas. But in psychology, rumination means something a little different . Rumination is when we keep running over the same ideas and emotions, over and over, without moving on, without trying to come up with some productive next steps. Ever see a child do this? They can't find their favorite socks, and so they just keep repeating over and over the reality that they want, without trying to improve the situation or accept it and come up with a new plan. You suggest they look in the dirty clothes hamper. Or we

Acknowledging our pain, our grief, is healthy. Because ignoring it doesn't mean it disappears. It just means that you lose any bit of control you had over it. I knew a person who went through something hard. Like, really super hard. But rather than pause and ask herself, "Hey, how do I feel about this?" and sit with those sad, complicated feelings, she instead would just cheerily say, "I'm fine! Really!" She kept doing that, over and over, and it became such a pattern that she really said some ridiculous stuff in her hurry to move on away from any sad feelings. And then one day, she was in a large group of people, and they all watched a video clip from a funny movie. Christy Cummings: It's interesting, we have kind of a family dynamic going on here which pretty much mirrors what I grew up with: I'm the mommy slash daddy, the taskmaster, the disciplinarian. Sherri Ann Cabot: Mr. Punishment over here.  Christy Cummings: Oh, but I also rewar

As smart as we humans are, we are not really good at accepting reality. Not at first. Ever heard of the term "object permanence"? (Parents and human development experts nod.) "Object permanence" is why it's so much fun to play peekaboo with a baby. They don't grasp object permanence yet. You're there, and suddenly, there are just hands. And then you're back again! Whoo-hoo! Magic! We mature, and we develop an understanding that just because an object is hidden, it still exists. (Except for my husband and kids, who are convinced that if they don't see the bottle of mayonnaise in the front row of the refrigerator, clearly, it no longer exists. I have offered to play peekaboo with them to teach them about object permanence. Surprisingly, they did not appreciate my generous offer.) For the most part, we adults have, if anything, an over-developed sense of object permanence. We can go days without seeing each other, but we not only know we sti

As I've written about already, the music that is being produced and shared during this pandemic touches me on a deep level. And I am an easy touch. It doesn't even have to be good music, just the fact that people turn to their art, and then offer it up as a gift, makes me misty. With the assembled creation of the Royal Choral Society's Messiah , I went far beyond misty into boohoos. It was so beautiful, and such a great example of the human spirit, and our ingenuity. Watching it the ...oh, 18th or 19th time ... I was struck by their opening slide: What caught my attention was "except during the Blitz." Well, of course. The Royal Albert Hall is located in London. The Blitz was a German bombing campaign that destroyed 1/3 of London. From September 1940 until May 1941, Britain was under attack. There are long timelines of history, punctuated by significant interruptions. The "except." We are living in The Except. There will come a time wh

Friday, the Texas governor announced that schools would not be reopening this school year. This decision is the right one. I would have been terribly upset if the decision was otherwise. We probably would have refused to allow our children to go back, not while the cases of covid-19 continue to climb in our area. And. I teared up. I have a high school senior. We already figured that prom wouldn't happen (and her dress hangs, beautiful and unused, in her closet), probably not graduation. The big things. But it was knowing that she'll never walk back into that building that choked me up. She got out of school for spring break, and school never resumed. She never had the moment of looking at the familiar hallways with a blend of "at last!" and sentimentality, realizing one part of her life is complete. She won't get that last day of school, saying goodbye to favorite teachers. Signing yearbooks. Exchanging foolish promises with friends to stay in touch. You

In the 1940's, Woodie Guthrie painted on his guitar "THIS MACHINE KILLS FASCISTS." Other artists would follow suit, such as Pete Seeger, who put on his banjo "This machine surrounds hate and forces it to surrender."  Music has no powers to kill coronavirus, but right now, it's doing an admirable job helping us to fight fear and despair. Did you happen to see Andrea Bocelli's concert last Sunday, inside and on the steps of the Duomo cathedral of Milan? Just beautiful. But it is the ordinary concerts, from people's living rooms or empty clubs, that has me encouraging people to get back on Facebook. I know, I know - there are ethical issues around privacy (and if that's your concern, I will not urge you to go against your conscience), there is an overabundance of anxiety-stoking articles, and some people never had any interest in the darn thing. But this past week, I've listened to Melissa Etheridge every day, "attended" Dale

My systems mentor, Ken Shuman, shared with me what he wants from leaders at this time:  Be honest with me.            Calmness. Be less anxious than everyone else. Give us clear directions. Nothing wishy-washy. State it up front: “Here’s what we want you to do.” Give me hope and encouragement. Show empathy and compassion. This is such a great framework, and it has me thinking about the leader I'm trying to be through this pandemic time, and the church leaders I work with. All of them hit every one of these. (Yes, I know how incredibly lucky I am!)  Think of the leaders in your life - local and national government leaders, leaders in your workplace and other organizations -- what is it that you want from them right now?  I believe that everyone has the potential to be a leader, regardless of position. If people look to you as an example, if they look to you for guidance, you're a leader.  What kind of leader do you want to be? What could everyone expect

If we each had a metaphorical suitcase that we could pack with things that would help us during our time of Pandemic Lockdown, one of the first things I would recommend packing would be self-differentiation . As I've mentioned before , we are now swimming in both chronic and acute anxiety. It doesn't take much for us to react out of that anxiety. When you're in a state of near-constant anxiety, any little tap on the shoulder can make you jump out of your skin. And the "taps on the shoulder" now look like news shows, social media posts, and people walking in front of your house. We interpret many of these taps on the shoulder as threats against us. Now, some are justified. When a government leader suggests that the area you live in should ignore the recommendations of epidemiologists and get back to gathering together, that is a real threat to your safety, and the safety of everyone. If someone comes to my door and coughs in my face, that's a real threat

We all have wounds, unhealed wounds. Hopefully, we've been working on them, trying to get the "glass out of our arm" and get healthy. But that takes a while, often years. And even when we think we've made great progress, we might feel a twinge out of the blue, especially in stressful situations. This is a pretty stressful situation, no? Stuck in our homes, unsure when it will all end, and what life will look like on the other side. Have you been feeling twinges from old wounds? Me, too. One of mine, as I've written about before, is the wound of being called lazy, which led to the unconscious vow that I would make sure no one could ever call me that, which led to being a workaholic. I've done a lot of work around this, though, deciding on healthy guiding principles to replace the unhealthy vow, and living out of those. So the wound is healed, right? Well, I thought so. But here it came roaring back. Despite me telling others that they must slow dow

There are moments when all anxiety and stated toil are becalmed in the infinite leisure and repose of nature. --Henry David Thoreau Go outside. Weather-permitting, every day. It's good for your mental and emotional health. Add in even a little bit of movement, and it's good for your physical health. It is a magic elixir to get an instant boost of well-being.  In The Willpower Instinct ,   Kelly  McGonigal,  Ph.D. writes:  Just five minutes of what scientists call “green exercise” decreases stress, improves mood, enhances focus, and boosts self-control. Green exercise is any physical activity that gets you outdoors and in the presence of Mama Nature. The best news is that when it comes to green exercise, a quick fix really is enough. Shorter bursts have a more powerful effect on your mood than longer workouts. You also don’t have to break a sweat or push yourself to exhaustion. Lower-intensity exercise, like walking, has stronger immediate effects than high-intens

Several years ago, I wrote about the value in throwing an intentional Pity Party when things are hard, and included some tips for making it a good, miserable one. So now, an honest-to-God global pandemic is upon us. I'm not going to go into all the terrible things it has brought, nor the predictions of what may be to come. Those are plentiful and easy to find, should you need them. (You don't need them.) A couple of weeks ago, my family threw our own Coronavirus Pity Party. Really, truly. It was a smashing success, and I recommend it for everyone. First: plan it several days in advance. You need some time to prepare. During that time, whenever anyone in your household (or group -- you absolutely can throw a Zoom Pity Party!) complains about something coronavirus has taken away, everyone else should say, "Save it for the Party!" It's just like when you used to plan that giant party that you cooked for days in advance, and someone would try to sneak an hors d

For those of us who are now doing our jobs from our homes, it can be a challenge to differentiate between our work hours and our home hours. For most of us, the work of work never ends. And if you're now effectively living in your office, you can work on your job all the time . We know that's not healthy, right? And frankly, if we're doing that all the time, the quality is going to go down. We need space away from work for our brains to recover, to "reboot." If it's possible (parents of young children, we'll get to you in a minute) , come up with some basic parameters for each. Time itself is a significant boundary. What time does your work begin, and when is it time to close? What are the boundaries that you need to give to yourself? Maybe this means not even looking at email between certain hours of the evening. Can you create a ritual around ending your workday and starting your home evening? Maybe, weather-permitting, a cocktail or mocktail ou

For those in non-medical* helping professions, the needs in your community may have gone up exponentially. And I'm seeing some great examples of how we're thinking innovatively, figuring out how to tend to the needs of those we serve, in creative ways. But each of us is only one person. For those in religious communities, we must work to empower the members of the community to minister to those needs with their own gifts and skills. Religious professionals, your job is to equip and empower. NOT to Do All the Things . A peek behind the curtain at our church: we've had many people suggest great ideas. And we (ministers and staff) have needed to remind each other that our job is to equip and empower. Trust that our people can take these great ideas and with a little bit of encouragement and resources, do terrific ministry. I put in an email to our team: Our limitation is not a lack of good ideas. Our limitation is that we are each only one person. And if we try to be

We are in a time of grief. Grief for the "normal" that we've lost, and anticipatory grief for what we fear may come. One of the funny things that often happens when we're in grief is that when we somehow manage to get a quick pocket of peace where we're not actively mourning, when we actually briefly forget our current reality, then when we remember what's going on, we feel guilty. It's funny! I mean, it's not going to rival the Three Stooges or John Mulaney , but it's funny that we are so desperate to feel some modicum of control that given the choice between helplessness or guilt, we'll feel guilt. Even if it's just guilt that for a brief period of time we weren't suffering. But let it go, please. Our brains are trying to take care of us, you see. We now have both our normal chronic anxiety (self-consciousness, generalized worrying) AND acute anxiety (a tiger is chasing after us and may eat us), both happening at the same ti

Boots and Blessings, Rev. Joanna Fontaine Crawford For those who work with communities hit by disaster -- say, a hurricane -- there is a predictable cycle of four phases that a community will go through: Heroic, Honeymoon, Disillusionment, and Reconstruction. Our disaster is different, in that it is ongoing, we don't really know when the worst will happen, we don't know when it will end, and we don't know what it will be like on the other side. But it is already a disaster affecting all of our lives. And though we are all unique, our wiring is such that most of us will follow this model, though it will not be as nice and neat as a graph. We have been, I believe, mostly in the heroic and honeymoon phases. We jumped into inaction, staying at home to flatten the curve. Many others have taken extra steps, to help improve the situation for those on the front lines, and to enhance the well-being of all of us. But disillusionment is lapping at our heels. It worries me.

Assuming Covid-19 has not hit your home, are you able to appreciate the delicious moments in your day? Coffee still tastes like coffee. The song of the birds is still there in the morning. A warm blanket still feels cozy. It is difficult, as the stories of danger and fear swirl around us. We do not know what is coming tomorrow, or the next day, or the next day. And so to appreciate the good moments when they come takes some mindfulness, intention. There is a parable, often attributed as Buddhist, that speaks to this: A man walking across a field encounters a tiger. He runs, the tiger chasing after him. Coming to a cliff, he catches hold of a wild vine and swings himself over the edge. The tiger sniffs at him from above. Terrified, the man looks down to where, far below, another tiger paces, waiting to eat him. Two mice, one white and one black, little by little begin to gnaw away at the vine. The man sees a luscious strawberry near him. Grasping the vine in one hand, he plu

That's what my mom and I would say to each other, the year after my dad died. One of us would have forgotten something that we had talked about, like plans to meet at the mall. Or we would be self-reporting on something idiotic we had just done. And one of us would reassure the other, no, you don't have dementia. You're not going crazy. This was normal. We were experiencing the "brain fog" that comes with grief. A phrase often used about this brain fog nailed it for us: Keys in the freezer, ice cream in the pantry . You rip your house apart, trying to find your keys. Then, looking for the ice cream, you spot them. There are your keys. In the freezer. But where's the ice cream?  Oops.  We are going through a global pandemic. This is not hyperbole. I am not being overdramatic. We are in the midst of a life-changing event. The world will not be the same after this. Some day, we will refer to this period as a line between "before" and &qu

In most churches, you have a pastoral care committee, and Live Oak is no different. And though we have a formal team, we remind all of our members that they are on the team, too. It takes all of us to help all of us. And now, the needs have increased exponentially, but so has the committee. There is an entire world needing pastoral care. Luckily for us, there is also an entire world ready to provide it. We care for each other now not with casseroles and home visits, but by sharing the gifts that are unique to each of us. I know of one family, where their son is creating works of art, and sending them to those who need a pick me up. Every weekday morning, I have been receiving care from UU musician Sarah Dan Jones, who lights a chalice and plays beautiful UU music. Live Oak members are spontaneously, or planned in advance, hosting online coffee breaks and happy hours, where they ask people to check in with how they're doing. Members are calling and checking on each other. One

I guess you heard the news, huh? That April Fools Day has been canceled ? That sounds like a prank in and of itself, like when you tell someone that "gullible" is not in the dictionary. I understand, I do. We've all been at a serious gathering, like a funeral or an announcement of layoffs, when some person to alleviate their own anxiety, cracked a joke that fell like a lead balloon. But I will argue in favor of light, silly pranks. Especially for those with young children. Have a moment of levity, of normalcy. A well-timed joke, that is delivered not out of one's anxiety, but as a way to gently say, Yes, you're allowed to laugh, is a gift. After 9-11, when comedians slowly ventured out, we met their appearance with relief. We were given permission to relax, to laugh, even if just for a moment. Here are some sweet ideas. Note: if you do #9, do have some actual brownies stashed somewhere or mutiny will ensue. And right now is not a good time to walk the pla