Published by Hillary Watson on

I wish I had a worry-o-dometer to step on each morning, like a scale, because as the election gets closer, I don’t know if I’m gaining weight, but I am gaining worry.

So I’ve written a few notes about what I’m feeling, mostly notes to self. I’m curious, in our sharing time, what kind of notes you’re writing to yourself these days.

Ross Gay says, “Today my heart is so.. fat with grief 

that I’ve begun hauling it in a wheelbarrow.”[1]

I feel that way about worry. I am worried that I’ll soon be hauling my worry in a wheelbarrow, and I want to avoid that, if for no other reason that I’ll be out of hands to carry my tea.

Here are my notes on worry, the gospel, and trouble of the good and bad variety, for October 2020.

1. Validate your emotions.

All of your feelings are the right feelings.

Uncharted levels of stress call for uncharted levels of self-compassion. All of the feelings are here. It is comforting to think you are a reasoned, rational creature who follows her best impulses and nurtures noble thoughts. But you are a creature who feels many things. You have wise friends saying, pray for your enemies. And you have wise friends saying, God will tear the tyrants from their thrones. They are both offering ways to process challenging news, and your feelings don’t need to fit either of these frameworks.

Take the bumpers off all your expectations of what you should feel and let yourself feel. Read Psalm 10:

The violent arrogantly pursue the weak

and catch them in craftily designed schemes…

They think in their hearts, “We will not be moved;

throughout all generations, we’ll be happy and untroubled.”

Their mouths are filled with cursing and deceit and oppression;

under their tongues are mischief and iniquity.

The psalmist is on to something. The psalmist also says in verse 15,

Break the arms of the violent and the evildoers!

seek out their wickedness until you find none!

All of your feelings are the right feelings.

2. Redirect your emotions, when necessary.

All your feelings are right ones, but that doesn’t mean that all of them serve you. Greet your emotions, name them, and ask what road they are walking down. If your fear says, “I am walking toward paralysis,” or your anxiety says, “I am walking toward numbing,” or your worry says, “I am walking down to read every article I can find about Trump’s illness,” shake their hand and wish them well, and keep naming the other emotions. If your exhaustion says, “I am walking toward physical recovery,” or your laughter says, “I am walking toward resilience,” or your loneliness says, “I am walking toward company,” or your compassion says, “I am walking toward justice,” join the emotions that take you on the road toward life abundant.

We are creatures who feel many things at once. Take the time and space to sort your emotions, to organize them into neat stacks, or at least into messy piles, of constructive emotion and paralyzing emotion. Limit the time you spend with paralyzing emotion, as much as you can, and hone in on constructive emotion.

3. Listen to your body.

If you are finding it hard to locate constructive emotion, begin with your body. There is a reason everybody and their cousin recommended you read My Grandmother’s Hands, and there is a reason you started reading it. Resmaa Menakem says the strongest emotions—love, fear, anger, dread, grief, sorrow, disgust, hope—are not located in the brain, they are located in the body. These emotions are physical.[2]

When your emotions are confused or stalled out, pay attention to your body. If your body tingles with nervous energy, go on a run or a bike ride. If your shoulders are tense, spend 5 minutes stretching. If your legs ache, take a hot bath. If your tummy hurts, make a fresh pot of tea or warm milk. If you are hungry, eat. If your heart is heavy, get on your knees and pray—really, bring yourself before God, drag God into the room, and say what you need to say.

Activism begins in the body.

4. Respect your emotional explosions.

Sometimes, in spite of your best efforts, your emotions do explode. Respect the stress you’re under, and the intensity of your feeling. It is not bad to feel deeply. Let the explosions ground you, remind you to respect the intensity of being human.

5. Plan for Election Day.

It seems you have not yet learned how to control the minds of everyone in this country. Given that this will probably still be true on November 3, take care of the one mind that’s yours.

Your body is currently activating a stress response which you have tied to November 3, and November 4, and November 5. Position yourself for a supported stress response on these days.

Treat Election Day like Thanksgiving in reverse—it is important to gather because we are on the verge of forgetting gratitude, because alone we give into our worse impulses and fears. Do not watch election results alone. Make sure your loved ones do not have to watch results alone.

Even if people say no, err on the side of many invitations.  

Decide now what time you will go to bed on Election Day. Seriously. Find an accountability buddy who will call you at midnight and make you go to bed. Do not, do not stay up until 4am watching TV the way you did in 2016.

Prepare for the days after the election—do not force yourself to go to Wednesday’s all-staff meeting. It’s already been declared optional election-processing space. Listen to what your body needs to process. Adjust your expectations for Thursday’s 3-hour Zoom workshop. You are not a bad facilitator for lowering expectations to the pace of emotions. Take some time off, as soon as you can after Election Day. Recover. The world will move on, and it will need you.

6. Acknowledge the possibility of a Trump coup; don’t obsess over it.

You are very lucky to have friends who have the emotional bandwidth to plan for a coup. Read what they say and share, as much as you can, but don’t worry about it.

A coup sounds terrifying, but resisting a coup is the same process as resisting a democracy. All the tools you need, you already have. It’s the same muscles you’ve been training for the last four years. It does not require more fear—just more certainty of what you carry in your center.

7. Connect with other humans.

Now, on Election Day, after Election Day. Maybe there’s a reason the same Stevie Wonder song keeps coming on,

“No New Year’s Day to celebrate
No chocolate covered candy hearts to give away…

I just called to say I love you.”[3]

Remember how you spent all this week thinking about how to approach a friend, and then she reached out to you? Anybody you are reaching out to wants to be reached. We all wish for connection. Especially now.

8. Do a hard thing.

It is hard to do things when you are pushing a wheelbarrow full of worry. You can do hard things. In the coming weeks, you will need to do things you are not ready for or too emotionally spent to do. It will be tempting to opt-out with the cultural rhetoric of self-care. Stick with it. Do the hard things. Not all the hard things. But some hard things. You are braver than you know and stronger than you think.

9. Focus on good trouble.

What you pay attention to grows. Pay attention to good trouble and the people getting into it. Disregard the evil whispering that it has overtaken goodness. If you are centered in goodness, the doings of evil are irrelevant. Keep moving toward good trouble.

10. Limit your news intake.  

There are not 5 articles about Trump’s COVID diagnosis on the front page because it’s important; they’re there so that you stay on that webpage. Do not seek a play-by-play of his illness. Do not track every state’s votes as they are reported. Block sites, disable your internet, trigger dark screen after 10pm—whatever you need to do to get yourself to unplug.

11. Remember that Jesus said “Do Not Worry” to a crowd with much less stable lives and governance.

Your government and your faith in it may be collapsing. But Jesus said don’t worry to people who had far more to worry about. Yours is not the first government to oppress its people, it’s just your first experience being at odds with your government to such an extreme degree.

Do not worry still applies.

Jesus probably knew he would die when he said do not worry. He wanted the disciples to know, I can’t guarantee you stability, but I can guarantee you purpose and good company. He knew disciples seeking justice needed to release their worry in order to do anything at all.

Paraphrase Jesus’ passage. Tell yourself, Look at the birds in the sky. They do not vote or call their legislators, they sign up for no email alerts, yet our God in heaven ensures they are fed. Aren’t you more important than they? Which of you by worrying can add a moment to your lifespan?

Stop worrying, then, over questions such as ‘Who will rule us?’ or ‘Will my vote count?’ or ‘How will I know it was a fair and free election?’ Those without faith are always running after these things. God knows everything you need. Seek first God’s reign, and God’s justice, and these things will be given to you besides. Enough of worrying about tomorrow! Let tomorrow take care of itself. Today has troubles enough of its own.

12. Read your notes.

Return to these words when you forget how to say them for yourself.

[1] Ross Gay, “Opera Singer,” https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/92017/opera-singer.

[2] Resmaa Menakem, My Grandmother’s Hands, p.5.

[3] Stevie Wonder, “I Just Called to Say I Love You,” https://youtu.be/NiRj5m63oig.

Categories: Sermons


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