Chaos and uncertainty abound these days. Nature is doing its part to remind us life is messy and we aren’t in charge. I woke up last week to howling winds, temperatures too cold for my liking and some light snow. Friends in PA and MI were digging out from huge snow storms while friends in FL complained about this unusual cold and needing to turn on their heating systems. 

Today’s post presents some reflections and different lenses I use to listen and ask what is mine to do amidst our current messy times.  

 I am concerned about the presidential transition and deeply troubled about the pain many people may suffer. Yet the election of Donald Trump is only a symptom of deeper pains and ongoing suffering and inequality. 

The analysis of why Donald Trump won and the plans for his new administration offer plenty of theories about what is going on in America as we head into our 249^th year.  Some suggest economic hardship for too many propelled the Trump victory. Others argue there is too much attention to identity and that it is a distraction from the basic issues. Others see our differences as resulting from our history of racism and class-based oppression. And still others see them as signs of the limitations and vulnerabilities inherent in democratic forms of governance and capitalism.  

I suspect that each of those theories may be in play in some way. It’s way out of my reach or responsibility to sort all that out. Yet times of chaos bring with them opportunities for learning and for change. 

I find a simple model of change helpful in living with and making peace with the messiness. This approach, learned from my Twelve Step friends, suggests before we can change a habit or a policy or a system, we first have to admit that change is needed. I often want to skip over any analysis and jump impulsively into action once I admit change is necessary. This leads to rushing and not waiting to listen for guidance as to what is mine to do and what is not. 

So, it is important to wait and be uncomfortable for a while. As I settle into quiet time and talk with trusted friends, any actions I am supposed to take become clearer and more possible. As a nation, we generally are not very good at listening and waiting for collective guidance to inform our actions. 

Our present polarized dialogue promotes fear and expectations of trauma, which in turn results in catastrophic thinking, an exaggerated sense of the risks of harm for myself and those I love and want to protect. 

Among those who are especially threatened are immigrants and refugees without legal status, people of color, transgender persons, and pregnant women.   

 It is not my job to immediately understand and fix what is going on. What is my job is to listen to my heart about what the next loving thing to do is.

Tragedies like world wars and economic depressions have brought us together in the past; we saw each other for a moment as needing each other, needing a unified community. In our current moment, when some are prospering and many are struggling, a sense of community is hard to sustain. 

So what is the next right loving thing to do amidst the chaos and waiting for a broad-based will to change? For me, it is to find ways to listen and hear where the pain is and ask if anything I can do personally to reduce someone’s pain. That is our contract as people who share a community. I also seek out friends and groups that encourage deeper listening and learning about what we need to admit and accept. And I keep doing what seems like mine to do. 

How are you processing the chaos of December 2024? What’s next for you in admitting and accepting and considering a next right loving action?