I Went Quiet for a While

I Went Quiet for a While

I’m sitting in my usual writing spot, admiring the gorgeous blue skies and the near-perfect green grass sprinkled with yellow dandelions. I’ve spent the past several days outside doing farm work, which I enjoy on most days.

In my stillness today, something called to my heart to return to the page. After keeping a steady drip of resilience- and confidence-themed essays, I imagine you may have been somewhat glad to not have my Beyond the Arc email cluttering your inbox.

Or…

Maybe you missed my emails.

Or…

Maybe you didn’t notice.

Whatever the scenario, I took a lengthy break. At first, I was honestly exhausted from writing thousands of words in such a short period of time.

So, yes. I was truly exhausted after writing at a professional level of output for three months. I missed writing. But I missed connecting with my readers more. It’s truly wonderful to hear from folks who take the time to read my work.

I digress…

Nonetheless, I took a break. It wasn’t only exhaustion. It was a heartfelt, deep sadness for the state of the world. Whether you agree with wars or not, one cannot discount the fact that many people suffer. And when I think of people suffering, it saddens me.

I retreat to the quiet world of my own blessed solitude. I study world events and history, as I have a deep desire and need to understand what is going on.

As quickly as I delve deeply into a subject and exhaust all the different ways I can possibly analyze it, I put it to rest. All the while, I focus on my own agency. What can I control in the moment?

Being a sensitive empath has taught me the necessity of protecting myself. So putting myself into a cocoon of safety preserves my energy and maintains my sense of peace.

Sometimes my system gets overwhelmed for a moment or two or three, and I worry. I think about future generations and their opportunities. I actively imagine the difficulty of people in faraway places who have no power, safe water, or a bed to sleep in at night.

What do I do about it? Sometimes I pray. Sometimes I read a Bible verse. Sometimes I curse. Sometimes I look up in the sky on a star-ridden night and thank God for my own personal blessings.

And sometimes I allow the tears to well up in my eyes and feel my deep sadness.

Don’t worry for me. I’m not in a constant state of sadness or sensitivity. I have skills and techniques that bring me to the present moment.

I feed the birds, and I’m blessed with their beauty every single day. They remind me of the simplicity of life, even if there are some who seem not to value nature or even other humans.

I tell myself I can’t impose upon others what I find value in. I can’t expect everyone to see the world as I do.

How do I see the world?

I see it as completely interconnected. And among the many lessons I learned from traveling the globe was that “people are people no matter where you go.”

I’m reminded of a coach I had who was from Hungary. When I was with the Team USA Handball squad, we played many matches against the Russians (Soviet Union at the time). After a several-week tour with the Russian team, I had befriended many of the players.

In a match in Hungary, I gave a few of the Russian players a hug when we greeted each other prior to the start. My coach came up to me and said, “Why you like these people? They destroyed my country!”

I answered without hesitation, “These young women weren’t even born when that happened. They didn’t destroy your country.”

He said nothing more. However, he benched me for the beginning of the game. I was a starter.

We never spoke about it again. But the memory stuck in my mind as one of several moments when I spoke truth to power—not because I was being an activist, but because I was standing up for what I believed to be true.

I think there’s a saying about how the sins of our ancestors are the sins of our generation. If there’s not a saying, I suppose there should be.

The tribal mentality certainly taints how we view other people. Just think about where we are as a nation. Red states and blue states. Left and right. MAGA and not MAGA. Label after label.

I personally think, collectively, we’ve lost sight of what it means to be human—to care enough about other people that we challenge our inherent biases and try to give someone the benefit of the doubt.

It’s truly a similar situation for my own personal heritage. My mother was of German descent. She used to tell me stories about how kids in school would call her all kinds of names because of what the Nazis had done.

I asked her how she handled it.

She said, “I cussed them out.”

So, I went quiet so I could hear my own thoughts, memories, and reflections bubble up. I needed to be able to process and emotionally regulate my feelings.

When life feels hard or unfair or not so joyful, I hope you can find a small piece of beauty that will ground you. I hope you have the tools and skills to navigate a simple but complicated world.

As I said to my coach, I hope you’ll remember that people are people no matter where you go. I still believe humanity is far more good than evil, although the lines do blur depending on where you’re sitting.

For today, I might just see those dandelions for the beautiful yellow contrast they are in a green yard.