How to Dance in a Burning Room
How many times have you read the word "crisis" this week?
Between 9/11 remembrance, Sudan, crossing the +1.5 celcius climate threshold and the announcement that our species has a 1 in 10 chance of extinction at the hands of AI; well, it's a lot.
Maybe, like me, you're casting around for some hope, or at least wisdom for handling this. After all, we still have to go to work and feed our kids, we can't just escape to Walden Pond and trap beavers or whatever.
I couldn't find what I needed though, so I drafted a few ideas for surviving our growing list of existential threats. I'd love to hear yours.
Let's crowdsource this thing, shall we?

Idea #1 - Touch more grass. This will sound both naive and terribly grim, so sorry about that, but here we go. Sitting on my porch this morning looking at the trees I thought, "wow, I'm going to miss those trees when we're living in a bombed out hellscape."
I know. It's not always fun up in my head, and maybe you think I'm overreacting and maybe I am, but who really knows.
However, running that thought experiment out to its full apocalyptic end made me love those trees even more. Suddenly, I felt grateful for them, like a grieving friend would, thinking I should appreciate every moment we have left together.
What a messed up thing to say, but it's actually a pretty healthy way to live. Being so attentive and appreciative that we're captured by the present moment and the gifts we find there, is good strategy for meeting the day.
Idea #2 - Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling. Jesus himself talked often about the end of the age. He spoke about it in parables like this one and pointed to wars, false prophets, famines, and earthquakes as signs which seem everywhere at the moment.
The problem is nobody knows when this goes down, and when the globe gets sketchy, speculation blooms like mold.
All Jesus said was, be ready. All the time.
I'm not telling you what to do about this, but I'll tell you what I'm doing about it. I've been on Team Jesus for a long time, so I steady myself with the scriptures. Like Psalm 1 which says, those who delight in the Lord and meditate on his law are like trees planted by water, who don't wither and keep bearing fruit in their season.
I want to be like that, steadfast in whatever comes. To keep bearing fruit others can pick no matter how dry it gets. To be one of the helpers Mr. Rogers told us about.
But Jesus also said I'm the vine, you're the branch, apart from me you can do nothing. That tracks. When I'm a panicky, non-steadfast mess, it's because I'm lying like yard waste at the curb.
But I can get back to the vine, and I do.
Idea #3 - Say the weird thing. A colleague told me her nervous system was crashing out and she spent all day Saturday crying.
Her best friend, who'd been doing the same thing, called and suggested they meet for coffee. The two of them talked it all the way out — like I did with the trees — and then made incredibly dark jokes about it, which of course made them feel better.
Take that Claude. We can still laugh at things we're not supposed to. Can you? Oh wait, that's a human thing. Sorry.
Don't assume because this topic is dark you're the only one struggling with it. That's unlikely and there is strength in solidarity. It just takes courage to call it what it is out loud and skip trying to pretty it up.
And if all else fails, don't forget this Covid-era strategy. Lay's Emotional Support Chips. We got through a lot together.

Whatever comes, I want to stay awake, helpful, steady and inappropriately funny.
What about you and how are you doing it?
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