It occurred to me the other day that my GenX background has prepared me for a time like this. I was a classic latchkey kid. At eight, I got my six-year-old brother and myself off the bus and into the house. Snacks made, syndicated comedies on, homework finished, dinner started. We knew how to get in touch with an adult in the event of a major emergency, but no one was coming to help with the day-to-day challenges.
We figured it out as we went along, just like the kids next door and down the street.
Throughout my childhood and adolescence, adults did their things, inhabiting a reality that largely seemed disconnected from my own. If anything, the appearance of an adult seemed like a disruption. What do you mean I have to listen to you now? We were getting by just fine.
Whew! That spark of defiance! It’s been burning in me for a long time. And I find myself turning to that spirit in these early days of the new regime. I’m reassured that I’m doing just fine. That noise? It’s just the wind. We’ll figure out what to do about it as we go along.
And so, this week, I’ve found myself drawing a sharp line in the sand. This regime does not own my attention, my emotions, my health, or my relationships. I will not be pulled into the drama of moment-by-moment breaking stories. I’ll take my news in measured tones and give myself permission to turn off even those sources of information.
I will not give in to despair, no matter how much justification there may be for such a response. I will not give my power away.
In an era where the those in charge are intent on creating drama and discord, I refuse to take the bait. As I used to think as a kid, I’ll just let the “adults” rage; it’s nothing to do with me. I’m going to keep my head up, do my thing, and keep getting by like I always do. I’ll make a difference where I can. I’ll figure it out as I go along.
By nurturing my defiant streak, I find that I have the energy to do something about what’s happening around me. I can write a letter (of support or castigation; there is opportunity enough for each). I have energy to reach out to someone who needs practical support. I’m able to get involved in the causes that matter to me.
I’m tending to myself, keeping my own spirits high enough to move forward according to what I value, believe, and desire. I’m committing to hope.
As a GenX kid, I acted from the spirit of “you can’t tell me what to do or feel.” My defiance was hot, reactionary. I knew what I was rebelling against. I was less sure of what I was rebelling for.
Today, I operate with a much clearer sense of what I’m choosing to embrace. I am preserving my identity, my worldview, my dedication to making the world a better place for all. I will protect my ability to live according to my values—love, kindness, respect, equality, interconnection. I defy any external pressures to try to change me or bring me down to their level.
This defiance of the current moment is my commitment to hope. It is a lived, evolving process, not a vague emotional sentiment. I affirm my hope through my choices moment to moment.
I can sustain this hope in the face of the utter pessimism and heartbreak I feel over the evils certain actors are perpetrating. This hope doesn’t feel good, but it does guide my behavior. Hope is what will ensure that I’m fine, that I’m able to survive regardless of external circumstances. I will not obey in advance and submit to a regime that is working for the collapse of our ideals and our hope.
Small, Accessible Ways to Nourish Your Commitment to Hope
Committing to hope doesn’t always involve huge, external actions. And it doesn’t have to feel like it’s out of your reach, particularly when you can connect with kindred spirits. Here are some ways I may be able to help you:
Soundings Circle: Loving our Imperfect Selves
Connecting with people who get me always feeds my commitment to hope. That’s part of why I created the Soundings Circles as part of the Singularly Sensitive community. These gatherings allow us to come together in a low-pressure way and do the kinds of things we tend to enjoy: reflect, write, imagine, empathize, and support one another.
We meet on the first Wednesday of each month from 7-8 PM Eastern on Zoom. If that time is bad for you, I’ll send you the writing prompts and guided imagery recording. But if you can join us live, there is real magic in connecting to other sensitive, passionate souls. Our theme for February 5th is Loving our Imperfect Selves. Please register and join us.
Collaborative Journaling
I want to thank the brave, generous individuals who participated in my collaborative guided journaling experiment. (If you missed it, you can read more about what we did HERE.) Your deep, powerful explorations of what it means to be sensitive and idealistic moved me. This experience validated what I say so often: the world needs people like you to speak up and make a difference.
And what was the consensus of the participants? Collaborative guided journaling was a hit. Here’s what one participant shared about their experience:
“Reading Lori's comments was wonderful and very insightful, and she gave me so many good ideas to further explore. Being witnessed in this way felt so good! I love this experience and I really appreciate the time and care that Lori took to write a response. This is a great collaboration, thank you thank you thank you!”
I’m blushing! Truly, this was an incredibly positive experience for me, too. Based on this round, I’ve decided to offer collaborative journaling again with some slight modifications. There will be fewer prompts to choose from to reduce decision fatigue. I’ll also make it clear that you don’t need to respond to all the parts of a multiple question prompt. This is personal development, not an essay test. I’m also going to give you more time to respond, including a weekend, since a couple people let me know that they discovered the prompts after this experiment concluded.
My plan is to publish the next set of prompts in mid-February. My hope is that this timing creates a manageable cadence for all of us, allowing us to alternate between Soundings Circles and collaborative journaling. Stay tuned for the next round.
Help Bring Singularly Sensitive’s Message to More People
Finally, after resolving a technical snafu, I’ve enabled paid subscriptions to Singularly Sensitive. My goal is to provide my readers with the guidance, inspiration, and information to find their own path to a sustainable, values-aligned lifestyle as a sensitive, idealistic, introspective person. If you believe in this message and are in a position to financially support this work and allow me to expand this support, I invite you to consider upgrading.
There is absolutely no pressure to upgrade and no shame in staying a free subscriber. None of us (I assume) can financially support everything that comes our way. I’m sincerely grateful for your presence and your contributions of all kinds, not just monetary. Please consider sharing these events and this publication with others who could appreciate the community we’re building!
What form will your commitment to hope take?
I’d love to hear how you are defying the cultural pressure to collapse and comply. Let’s share ideas and perspectives that can bolster each other through this time.
In solidarity,
Lori
Lori, I so needed to hear this today when I have felt especially down about the new regime. I love yoru spark of defiance and the way you have spoken so beautifully about your line in the sand. The powers that be want to scare us and shake us up so we will submit. Much better to draw our line in the sand.
As an HSP, I had to allow myself the first 60 days after the 2024 election to hunker down, grieve, and pay attention to the despair I felt. This was when so many people were telling us not to give in, get out there and fight! Maybe that was right for them, but it was wrong for me. Having allowed myself the time to feel and go deep, I'm now ready to fight - from a centered place of peace and determination. It was never about compliance, it was about self-care. Now, for the fight.