Five Ways of Resisting Without Punching Nazis

Wow! It’s been a hell of a week, and if you’re like me, you’re feeling pretty damn raw and emotional.

There are many people who are scared, angry, grieving, etc. over the events that happened in Charlottesville.

Many are calling for measures to suppress free speech, seeing it as inextricably linked with the violence of the previous weekend. There are others arguing that we should go around and punch Nazis, harass them, send them threats, and “make them afraid” to show their faces in public.

I get it. I do.

But I can’t help but cringe at how these responses merely contribute to the problem. We’re dealing with extremism, and we have to be smart about how we deal with extremism. I believe, from what I’ve seen, that it’s safe to say that these white supremacist movements qualify as cults and that they have a very deliberate recruitment program.

And you getting pissed off enough to punch someone in the face for their ideology is part of that plan!

You getting pissed off enough to dox someone online or harass someone or prevent them from speaking at a college event is part of that plan.

Because they really want to convince angry, scared, and vulnerable people that they are being persecuted…and the more that you can give evidence of that, the better for their recruitment agenda.

But I also get that some of this extreme response to extremism stems from a very legitimate place of fear.

Judith Herman in Trauma and Recovery writes about how revenge fantasies are not uncommon in response to trauma because they offer the illusion of rebalancing the trauma. People desire resolution, and sometimes the idea of becoming the big bad aggressor who makes the oppressor afraid the way they have been afraid seems like the only or the best way to go about resolving the trauma and regaining a sense of safety.

It doesn’t work though.

Perpetuating violence against others can actually compound trauma. That’s part of the reason why soldiers can get PTSD—it’s not just the threat to their own lives; it’s the memories of what they’ve done to others that can haunt them, even if that “other” was an “enemy.” (Edit to add: based on feedback from others, I’d like to clarify that I’m not condemning self-defense or protecting others and that those can be healthy responses to physical threat–they can also result in trauma, but not necessarily).

But we’re feeling helpless, and we need somewhere to turn, something to do.

So here’s a list of five ways that you can resist extremism and white supremacy that I think have a better chance of being effective than lashing out.

  1. Self-care. No seriously! Self-care is super important right now. Burnout and secondary traumatic stress (basically becoming traumatized from witnessing or hearing about trauma) are major risks, especially when there is very graphic footage that is being virally shared from last weekend.The symptoms of burnout and secondary trauma can compound the unhelpful aspects of this situation and interfere with your ability to think about and do things to help you and your communities heal.

    So, make sure you take breaks, get rest, meet your physical and emotional needs, do things that are pleasant, comforting, and hopeful.

    And if you notice yourself having nightmares, being hypervigilant, having intrusive thoughts or memories (or flashbacks), experiencing extreme mood swings, or other symptoms of trauma, consider seeing a professional and getting some extra support.

    You can read more about self-care after tragedies at this post. There are also some great resources on the Orlando Grief Care Project website for dealing with grief and stress that I would recommend you check out.

  2. Donate to Life After Hate, the Southern Poverty Law Center, or some other group that is working to counter the violence, racism, and extremism of our current times. I mention these groups specifically because they specifically focus on resistance without oppression.Life After Hate reaches out to people who have become embroiled in the cult of the alt-right. They are working specifically to help people leave these ideologies…which is way more effective than trying to silence the ideologies.

    It might seem like a slower approach, but every person that chooses to walk away from that movement is one less person at those rallies and one more person with connections to others and the ability to influence others who might be going to those rallies.

    The SPLC has released a handbook outlining how people can effectively counter white supremacists coming to campus without damaging the right to speech. I get that free speech doesn’t seem as valuable to many right now in the face of neo-Nazis, but if we are really up against a group that wants to implement fascism and we already have someone sympathetic to their cause in office, we definitely don’t need to help break down the protections of citizens. Once we start dismantling free speech for others, it’s only a matter of time before that gets used against us (see my post about Pussy Riot for a deeper discussion here).

  3. Learn some ways that you yourself can engage with cults and totalistic forces that are likely to be more productive than force.It’s important to understand why people get involved in cultic groups. They often don’t start out as radical as they seem after they join. Many join because they’re scared and angry and confused. Transitional/stressful times make people more vulnerable to cultic influence because cults promise to solve people’s problems and provide a simple worldview that clarifies all of the complexity that makes life scary.

    Cults offer certainty in a world of seeming chaos, and they subtly manipulate people’s emotions and beliefs in ways that most don’t recognize at first, sometimes leading to actions that baffle the rest of the world with their violence—the Manson murders and Jonestown being very prominent examples.

    But the good news is that there are ways of reaching people even while they are in a cult. Megan Phelps-Roper has a lovely Ted Talk about how she was able to break out of Westboro Baptist Church due to the compassionate but worldview-challenging dialogue that others offered her, and she offers some great tips on how individuals can engage with others in some of those difficult conversations. Her Ted Talk often reminds me that dialogue is the first line of defense against extremism.

    I also recommend reading the following for a better understanding of what we may be facing right now. These inform much of my own approach. Having the knowledge of how extremism and totalism work can go a long way in knowing how to reach out to those influenced by it.

    Thought Reform and the Psychology of Totalism by Robert Lifton
    On Tyrrany: Twenty Lessons from the Twentieth Century
    by Timothy Snyder
    Combatting Cult Mind Control by Steve Hassan
    Cults in our Midst by Margaret Thaler Singer
    The Lucifer Effect by Phillip Zimbardo

  4. Do healing activities with your own communities and connections.It is healing to get together to sing and dance. It is healing to spend time with loved ones. It is healing to engage in comforting touch like hugs and hand-holding. While organizing or participating in events that involve art or music or dance or other touchy-feely activities may seem so far removed from the issues at hand, it can be just as important as self-care.

    Healing trauma for an individual often involves a dance between dealing with the painful issues and doing comforting or pleasurable things. And healing as a society from collective trauma, societal trauma, and historic trauma needs the same thing. Peter Levine calls it the healing vortex and describes how it can counter the vortex of trauma that tries to pull you into a repetitive, unhealthy cycle of avoidance, re-enactment, and re-traumatization.

    If you’re involved in activism, give attention to community healing. It doesn’t have to wait until racism seems to be conquered—it can’t wait until then!

    At a social justice conference I attended this year, I was struck by an observation made from someone who was an activist originally from a different culture. They said that Americans are too serious about our activism. We don’t learn how to laugh and have fun even while we are fighting oppression. This person had come from a war-torn region and talked about how dancing and laughing were essential in keeping the work going, essential to not being overwhelmed with despair.

    That message stuck with me, especially because my training in helping people with trauma as individuals also highlights that need for pleasure, comfort, and joy. In fact, it’s the foundation. Every trauma model I have studied begins with a foundation of creating a sense of internal safety and strengths through connecting to happy memories or doing positive activities.

    Activism that is, at heart, dealing with collective trauma from injustice needs to be grounded in a trauma model, which means we need to have opportunities for our communities, divided though they may be, to come together in these ways.

  5. Explore your own relationship to and feelings about racial issues. I’m assuming that most of the people reading this would identify as people sensitive to social justice issues, but I also think that everyone’s journey is different. SO…It’s okay to need space to explore these issues even if you feel you strongly disagree with “SJWs” or if you have negative feelings towards the left. You don’t have to be wholly aligned with the most liberal stance in order to explore these issues.

    It’s okay to have questions or make mistakes in your attempt to talk about these issues. Be willing to make mistakes because that’s part of growth, but also be willing to own up to and apologize if you make a mistake because that’s also part of growth.

    It’s okay to want to feel safe and respected while you struggle with examining your worldview, and I understand that those qualities tend to be lacking in many spaces. Call-out culture has become pretty scary and toxic, but that’s not how everyone operates. There are many lovely activists, advocates, and social justice ambassadors (my new term for differentiating from the more antagonistic ilk) who don’t resort to shame and aggression to control.

    Of course, also be willing to feel uncomfortable. Discomfort is not the same as lacking safety…and it’s good to know how to differentiate between those. Talking about racial issues is uncomfortable. Challenging your worldview is uncomfortable. You shouldn’t expect yourself to tolerate feeling completely unsafe, but if you aren’t at least tolerating a little discomfort, you are probably not anywhere close to the growth edge.

    If you have a supportive group where you can feel safe to explore but still be challenged around racial issues, great! In person connections with people you know are always better for these tough conversations.

    You might be able to create a community yourself if you don’t know of one—but make sure it includes people who are respectful and compassionate as well as willing to challenge your thinking and allow you to challenge theirs. I’m currently in love with the deliberate dialogue movements that have sprung up and the idea that it is in the spot with the most tension that the solution ultimately lives.

    Just…don’t create yet another echo chamber. Make sure you’re not just talking to people who agree with you and validate your feelings (and for those who identify as more liberal, this might mean challenging yourself to talk with and explore a more conservative viewpoint. You help no one by insulating entirely.)

    Therapists are also a great place to go if you need a space that is confidential and non-judgmental but hella challenging. Therapists can help you explore your own assumptions and beliefs in a warm, compassionate way, supporting you towards the changes you want to make in your thinking. Generally, they also don’t let you off the hook of doing hard work (or they shouldn’t).

    There are also online groups, though I hesitate to recommend them because the Internet tends to be one of the more vitriolic spaces one can go right now. However, Authentic Allyship is an online group that seeks to provide a space specifically for white people to explore the emotions that come up around being white, including anger and the trauma of being part of oppression.

    It’s designed to be a safe space for “white emotions,” and from what I can tell, the person who runs it (who is, incidentally, a therapist) seems genuinely compassionate and highly principled about the work they’re trying to do. What I’ve read aligns a lot with the mindfulness-based, compassion-based, and non-violent activism towards which I tend to gravitate.

Bonus (because there’s never just five): Get to know the local groups already active in your area. This is something I am challenging myself on more as well. Online activity has always been where I most engage with difficult conversations because it brings me in contact with so many people all over the place. It’s also where I found my greatest supports in exploring my sexual orientation and exiting and recovering from cult life. But online has become more and more toxic lately, and I’ve started wondering if social media is exacerbating the problems we face. I want to give a social media detox a go, get to know more ways to be active “in real life” (which isn’t to say online isn’t important or real, just virtual), and test out other ways of staying informed that don’t involve being bombarded with catastrophic images and articles ALL THE TIME! So, I encourage you to do the same. As always, if you get involved in any group (online or otherwise) that starts to exhibit red flags for cultic or totalistic practices, it’s probably healthiest if you leave, even if you really like the cause they espouse.

 

Sonnet to Poetry

I’m busy this weekend with a wedding and managing existential dread about nuclear annihilation, so I am posting a silly little thing I wrote the other day when I was realizing how much I miss creating poetry. So enjoy the light humor of some melodramatic song; I hope you have a good weekend!

Sonnet to Poetry

How long it’s been since I have played with words!
Too much has passed since last I crafted those
Delightful sounds that opened up the worlds
Of my imagination long ago!
It must be years my pen has gathered dust,
My dictionary yellowing with age,
While I have chased pedestrian pursuits—
Neglecting all my passion for the page.
No more will I allow my heart to drift
From that which fed my soul in infancy.
The gods have granted me the sacred gift
Of song, and I must use it faithfully.
The words come shyly back to me tonight;
Through ink my magic births creative light.

 

Let Go and Let Goddess

There was this trite phrase that I used to hear in the cult: “Let go and let God.”

It was used to encourage surrender and submission to “God’s will” (which always turned out to conveniently be what the authorities wanted you to do) and to remind people that they didn’t need to understand what was happening. Questioning God was just rebellion. Rather, a good cultie—er, Christian—would recognize that all they needed to do was follow God’s lead and take joy in whatever trials were sent their way.

Gag!

But in a weird way, this phrase has sort of been coming back to me, with a slightly new twist.

I’m taking the biggest risk of my life. Okay…maybe not the biggest. I did decide that going to hell was a worthwhile risk when I left the cult, so eternal damnation might be a slightly riskier move than opening my own practice.

But it feels that big!

While my partner has decided to go back to school, I’ve taken up the role of breadwinner for the household…by going into business for myself, spending thousands on getting set up, and crossing my fingers that I can make a living doing what I love.

Part of what makes success seem like a possibility is that I am an extremely hard, self-directed worker. I’m thorough in planning and tirelessly detail-oriented.

But there’s a point at which I realize that I can only do so much, and then it’s out of my hands.

That’s when this phrase returns to mind. There is never a reason for me to abdicate my right to question or to sacrifice myself in surrender to some sadistic divine will, but there is a point at which I need to…have faith, I guess.

I find myself asking, Is it faith in myself? Or is it a faith in something larger than myself?

Perhaps it’s a bit of both. As someone who has a healthy skepticism about the existence of a divinity and definitely doesn’t believe in an omnipotent god, it feels infinitely strange to find myself sending out a kind of prayer.

“Dear Goddess, it’s me—er, well, you know who—I’ve done my part; if you could see fit to send people my way, that would be great.”

I mean, I know there are other ways of looking at it. One of the people who has been instrumental in helping me get set up has resorted to the Field of Dreams mantra, “If you build it, they will come,” which is helpful in a different way in reminding me to chill the fuck out.

But I can’t help but be amused by the irony in the fact that I can’t control everything, regardless of which quote, phrase, or cliché I use to remind myself of that. At some point, I have to let go….At least, I can choose to give it over to a Goddess this time. Bitches get shit done!

 

The Chimera of Shushing the Taboo

Laci Green has become the latest social justice pariah, and there’s a good chance I’m committing social media suicide today by defending her…but I just can’t let this go.

If you’re unfamiliar with the situation, Laci recently drew ire for her decision to begin talking to people with whom she disagrees, both in private as well as more publicly.

There are so many layers to what’s happening that I could talk about, one of which is the growing cult of shame within social justice. Thankfully there are many people who have begun writing about the toxicity of a culture built on shame and control. If you’re interested, read this, this, and this. I feel like they give a good enough break down of my concerns that I would only be redundant if I focused on that aspect.

So instead, I want to talk about one of the other pervasive themes I’ve seen in the critique of Laci Green: the “How dare she have that conversation about or give a platform to that stance/idea?” critique.

Yes, she’s talking to people who have some ideas with which I strongly disagree. Hell, I even disagree with some of her beliefs and stances, topics about which I would love to be able to talk with her further.

But here’s the thing that I thought/ hoped we had learned after the election: Telling someone not to talk about something doesn’t make them stop talking about it. It just makes them stop talking about it to you.

That might feel good for you, in that moment…but it doesn’t destroy the idea or the topic.

In some ways, it strengthens it and adds to the allure–something I’ve come to label “the taboo effect.”

Making something taboo backfires. We’ve seen it time and time again. Telling teens not to have sex doesn’t prevent them from having sex. Telling people not to drink or use drugs doesn’t prevent them from using drugs. Telling someone not to commit suicide doesn’t prevent people from thinking about it or following through on it. Telling someone not to read/watch certain materials doesn’t prevent them from reading or watching those materials.

Making something unmentionable doesn’t destroy its existence.

It just drives it into the shadows where it festers and grows much more monstrous than it needs to be.

When we say that certain conversations shouldn’t be given a platform, we’re not taking away the table; we’re taking away our place at it. We’re ensuring that the conversations will be less likely to happen with diverse points of view and amongst people who can challenge each other.

Instead, they happen behind closed doors, with only like-minded people who feed each other’s perspectives.

And then you get an election where the polls say one thing and the results reveal a different mindset that has been hidden (because it’s taboo) but still growing until it explodes like a national cancer.

We didn’t get Trump because we were having too many open dialogues about racial issues, women’s issues, sexuality, politics, etc. We got Trump because we thought that controlling what was socially acceptable to say could control what people believed. We got Trump because we stopped listening to those with whom we disagreed—stopped listening to understand, stopped listening to engage.

Not only did we stop listening but we outright told them, “Sit down and shut up. Check your privilege. Your perspective doesn’t matter here.” And surprise! Yelling at people, demeaning them, and silencing them didn’t make them magically change their position.

So I don’t really care whether I agree with what Laci’s guests are saying on her livestream. I don’t care whether I agree with her.

What I care about is that she has the guts to have these conversations, even amidst the vitriolic angst that it raises amongst those who previously supported and followed her.

I care that she realizes that the conversations need to happen, as painful as they are.

I care that she is willing to respectfully listen to and be challenged by others with different worldviews and that doing so, in turn, means that they are engaging with her and listening to her and being challenged by her.

She’s pulling that table back out into the open and saying, “I want a seat. I want a say.”

So if you don’t like that your perspective isn’t being represented, don’t criticize her for the dialogue. Get involved in the dialogue. Stop trying to shove it back into the closet. Deal with it like…well, like an advocate, because ultimately this kind of dialogue is what advocacy is all about. And right now, Laci is one of the few people on the left that I see actually modeling that.

Creating My Own Meditation/Oracle Deck

A while ago, I took on a project of painting a 3×3 watercolor every new moon, pairing it with a quote or phrase that felt significant to my life at that point in time. I wrote about the process in the beginning, and about my hope that I would eventually have enough cards to be able to shuffle and select one to focus on. Well, months later (and several repaints down the road), I have a nice little deck that holds incredible meaning for me.

My artistic skill isn’t perfect, but I feel proud of my deck and want to show it off.

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Related quote: “The best thing one can do when it’s raining is to let it rain.” –Longfellow

The original card for this Longfellow quote (this picture is a repaint) was painted during a period of intense grief over the loss of someone very close to me. It helped me remember that I needed to allow myself to cry as needed. Even now, it reminds me that sometimes emotions just need to be. They cannot move out if they aren’t allowed to move through. I’m a big believer in having days where “moping” is the only thing on the to-do list.

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Related quote: “You’re a divine animal and you’re beautiful; the divine is not separate from the beast.” –Lenore Kandel

This one is also an early card that was repainted because the image didn’t…well, it didn’t look like a person. Most people thought the original was a dog’s face. 😛 But this is a message that has been recurring for me to love myself as an embodied creature.

I’ve worked so hard to work through some of the baggage that comes from being raised in a puritanical, sex- and body-shaming environment along with the baggage that comes from sexual abuse itself. But I realize it’s never a “won” battle. Shame can come creeping back in even years after I thought I had cast it off. I need recurrent reminders that it’s okay to be embodied, to be sexual (or to not want sex), or to be imperfect.

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Related quote: “I wanna think that you’ll be different. Smoke and mirrors are so clever clever.” –Kelly Clarkson in “Let Me Down”

This mirror (which will probably be repainted because it doesn’t exactly scream “mirror”) grew from my need to remember that people who have been toxic in the past may know all the right things to say–and I may be tempted to believe them–but it doesn’t necessarily signify that things will actually change.

I’m coming up on a year of official cut-off from my parents. Inevitably, I find myself wrestling with questions. “What if they’ve changed?” “What if they can be better?” “What if I can make them love me?” Sometimes the most treacherous smoke-and-mirror trick is the one I can play on myself in thinking that I can somehow change the past by being “good enough.”

Deep down, I know that’s not true, but the lies that are the most tempting to believe are the ones we want to be true.

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Related quote: “But the monsters turned out to be just trees.” –Taylor Swift in “Out of the Woods”

I love this one as a trigger grounder. I have come to truly admire the way that my system can recognize red flags, but I also realize that sometimes it’s reacting to something that is not currently actually a threat. This card reminds me to take a step back and think about whether my brain is reacting to shadows.

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Related quote: “And so here we go bluebird, back to the sky on your own.” –Sara Bareilles in “Bluebird”

I’ve written before about the sense of permanent displacement, the sadness of always “moving on.” This card is a poignant expression of that–as much a reminder to think about when I need to take flight as it is a form of mourning that sometimes I cannot permanently belong, no matter how much I want to.

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Related quote: “What do stars do? Shine.” –Neil Gaiman from “Stardust”

A lovely but simple quote from Stardust that can encourage me to let my talents do their thing. I have magic and power within. I have skills that I have honed. Sometimes, all I need to do is let them be visible.

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Related quote: “Change your perspective, and you change your world.” –a spirit guide

I’ve seen somewhat similar phrases since I had this one come to me, but I can’t rightfully attribute it as a quote to someone since it was a phrase that came to me during an active imagination/vision quest in which I was conversing with a fairy queen who was my guide in that moment. It’s been an important concept for me for years at this point, so it seemed only right to put it into a card. It reminds me that there are always multiple ways of looking at something.

This is not one of those bullshit positivity mantras that all problems will go away if I stop thinking about them as problems. Rather, it’s encouragement to look at the ways that I can address the problem that may not be readily apparent. Sometimes that looks like “letting go.” Other times, it looks for ways in which I may not be recognizing my own power or using all the tools available to me. When I’m feeling stuck, sometimes what I need is a different view of the problem.

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Related quote: “I’ll be an army, no you’re not gonna stop me getting through. I’ll sing a marching song and stomp through the halls louder than you. I could surrender, but I’d just be pretending. No, I’d rather be dead than live a lie. Burn the white flag!” –Joseph in “White Flag”

This flag card is, hands down, one of my favorites–both as a quote and as a picture. It’s such a powerful card for me and probably one of the most recurrent themes I face in my life–the choice of whether to surrender or “fight against all odds.” This is my Frodo heading into Mordor card, my Aragorn at Helm’s Deep card, my Joan of Arc card, my Braveheart “FREEDOM!” card, my Thelma and Louise card.

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Related quote: “If you wanna break these walls down, you’re gonna get bruised.” –Halsey in “Castle”

Probably somewhat similar to the flag card, this card is also about fighting…but more about fighting the established systems and recognizing that there isn’t a way to break down some of the toxic structures of life without it hurting a little. I felt this card a lot during the election season, the realization that we were at a painful juncture as a nation that offered little hope of positive outcome. This is the card that reminds me that sometimes in order to address the root of something, it might seem like things have to get worse before they can get better.

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Related quote: “You can’t push the river.” –Unknown quote found in “Waking the Tiger” by Peter Levine

I think this might be a proverb or something. I have no idea where it came from. I read it in Peter Levine’s Waking the Tiger. It’s a lovely image though about the importance of letting a process happen at its own pace.

I need to remember this for my own healing. “It takes the time that it takes,” as a dear friend put it once. Like the Longfellow quote, this one helps me remember to allow myself to be in the muck, but also reminds me that the much doesn’t last forever–it’s just part of the flow.

I also need to remember this when it comes to others too though. As a counselor, as an activist, as a friend, as a lover–I find myself in various positions of supporting or encouraging growth and change in others. It’s easy to get frustrated if things don’t progress as fast as I want them to or in the way that I want them to, but I cannot hasten someone’s process. I can’t do the changing for them. The more I try to influence the flow of the process, the more I’m probably going to actually face resistance.

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Related quote: “I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart: I am, I am, I am.” –Sylvia Plath

This heart is another that is a particular favorite of mine. I adore the colors in the heart! I don’t think I could recreate this if my life depended on it, but I’m thrilled that it turned out this well when I first painted it.

This was the card I painted following the Pulse massacre. It was the cry of my heart at realizing that people not only hate me for being queer but that some would even want to kill me.

It was a cry of grief as well as defiance. “I am here! You can kill me, but you can’t kill my pride!” Perhaps that is why they colors turned out so vibrant…

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Related quote: “Once the vessel cracks, the light can get in. The light can get out.” –John Green from “Paper Towns”

There is a particular passage towards the end of John Green’s Paper Towns that I have earmarked and read over and over. It’s a passage talking about the importance of metaphors and how they shape how we approach different things. It’s also a passage that talks about the ways that life buffets you. This is the passage the reminds me of how our wounds are what helps us connect and empathize. They can become our superpowers, so to speak, like Harry seeing the thestrals.

The thing about this meditation deck is that it’s literally tailored to my life. As an oracle, it might have some meaning for others as a side effect, but it isn’t designed for the sake of universality. Rather, it is a reflection of the specific themes and patterns of my life, something that makes it particularly powerful for me. It’s far from finished, but it’s full enough now to be useful.

Feel free to share the mantras that have helped guide your life in the comments!

 

Radical Self-Care Doesn’t End Here

Over the last three years in grad school, I’ve been aware of the necessity for and committed to radical self-care. I couldn’t have gotten through grad school without that commitment.

Now that I’m graduated, the importance of self-care has not diminished, but the urgency is no longer as pressing. I have plenty of time to make sure I’m eating healthy, getting enough sleep, exercising, having fun, hanging out with friends, stimulating my mind, caring for my emotions, etc. etc. etc.

I don’t have to choose what to sacrifice and what to give attention to anymore.

Ironically, now is when I’m realizing that I’m easily lulled into not caring for myself in the way that I need to.

Some things that I’ve sorely missed have been more readily done. I’ve been putting a lot more emphasis on getting outside and exercising a solid 30-60 minutes most days of the week—which is great! I’ve missed running and haven’t felt great in my body for a while. I really enjoy being able to take an hour to move my body without the pressure of deadlines looming.

Other aspects of my wellness are harder though. I have to remind myself to make plans with friends—to not let that piece of me that is introverted and passive about social activities to drown out the part of me that needs to see people and be assertive.

I also have to remind myself not to become too obsessed with one project or activity. My time limitations are no longer set by syllabi; I have to determine, on my own, how much time is appropriate to spend on something like a political discussion or novel. And I’ve discovered that while I might feel incredibly energized and engaged for a LONG time on one thing, that doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s good for me to remain buried in that one thing for so long.

It seems counter-intuitive to suggest that self-care was easier when I was in grad school…but in some ways I think it was. I knew how important it was to carve out time for my various needs because I could feel the energy depletions happening on me at every moment.

The five, ten, or thirty minutes that I would scavenge to practice my spirituality or write in my journal were precious. I could feel them keeping me going.

Now, I don’t feel my energy depleting as quickly. It’s easy to say, “Oh I can do that tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that. I don’t need to bother with that today.”

But I do.

I need to bother with making sure I stay balanced.

In the process of realizing that I need to renew my commitment to radical self-care, I’ve been having conversations with people about the definition of “radical.”

Colloquially, it has come to represent a word that means zealous—almost to extremism.

My understanding of and commitment to radical self-care certainly sometimes felt that way—when it seemed like I was making extreme choices to prioritize my well-being over the never-ending obligations and demands around me.

However, as I’ve been talking with people about how radical also means “to the root,” it’s been shifting what radical self-care means to me.

What does it mean to be committed to the root of self-care—to the necessity for balance of the multi-faceted aspects of wellness, to the rejection of habits or cultural norms that delegitimize my well-being or erase certain aspects of my self which are important to my well-being?

I know that radical self-care has always partially been about more than my individual choices. There is a huge component related to work practices in the U.S., gender role expectations, familial obligations, etc. The environment and outside factors cannot be ignored.

Yet how often do we actually talk about those factors as more than obstacles? I don’t know about others, but I have never been to a meeting with an organization to determine how the organization can improve the atmosphere of wellness for those working for it. If an organization is going to get involved in a conversation about self-care, it’s generally going to be because an individual hit burnout territory—the meeting will be about what the individual needs to do differently or what they’re not doing enough of.

I’ve been itching to be able to delve into an exploration of the external factors involved in wellness and how radical self-care relates to those, and now I have time!

Which means that along with reminding myself to take breaks and diversify what gets my attention, I can also finally begin looking more seriously at the systemic issues.

I am zealous about self-care, as a form of self-love and preservation but also as a form of resistance; that means getting to the roots, not just of my own well-being but of the self-within-society because, as Donne once wrote, “no man is an island.”

 

Celebrating the Lessons of Harry Potter

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone turned 20 recently. It’s hard to imagine that  I was 10 when the first book came out! I didn’t read any of the books until I was in college, almost a decade later. My parents thought they were evil, filled with demonic energy, and a sure-fire path to the corruption of my soul.

They were…not wrong from their perspective, I suppose.

The books changed my life. I see it as a change for the better; they probably see it as exactly what they would have expected.

There were so many lessons I learned from Harry’s adventures. In honor of the birthday of the series, I wanted to share some of them with you this week in celebration of this incredible series.

Harry Potter taught me that standing up to injustice is something that anyone can do, even an ordinary school child who isn’t that talented and doesn’t quite fit in. From Harry to Ron to Neville, there was a consistent theme of “ordinary” people (as ordinary as wizards get among other wizards) doing extraordinarily brave things that have both small and large effects on the lives of others. These books are a consistent reminder that I matter—that my actions (or inactions) matter.

Harry Potter taught me that it’s possible to find a loving family through the relationships built with friends. He didn’t have a loving family. He technically lived with his uncle and aunt, an orphan grieving the parents he never knew. Even though my parents weren’t dead, I too had to go through a period of mourning the archetypal, good parents that I didn’t have.

Yet, the books provided more than a glimpse into the pain that can accompany something you never knew. In contrast to his biological guardians who try to control Harry because they can’t manage their own anxiety about his gifts, Harry and his friends and mentors display friendships that are close but not fused—that are supportive but not smothering. He models building a chosen family based on love rather than biology.

Harry Potter taught me to give people a chance. Whether it was Dumbledore’s insistence on trying to save Draco from going down the path of his father or the development of Neville from a bumbling annoyance into one of the most important people in the defeat of Voldemort, these books illustrate how people are not defined by their family history, awkward childhoods, or odd beliefs (Hi Luna!).

They are defined “by their choices” as Dumbledore so eloquently puts it. We each have the influence of our genetics, environment, and desires…but we do not have fates mapped out for us over which we have no control. Rather, our fates emerge out of our choices, and there is always the opportunity to choose differently, e.g. Regulus Black.

Harry Potter taught me that sometimes doing the right thing doesn’t necessarily mean obeying the rules. This is one of the most important lessons throughout the books, and can be seen in different ways.

On the one hand, there are times when genuinely good people are in power, and the rules are there for a seemingly good reason. But Harry still understands that sometimes he needs to break the rules in order to do what is truly right. In this way, Harry modeled advanced moral reasoning and critical thinking, something I wasn’t really exposed to in any other way within the cult.

But then there are times when people are abusing their power even though they might be occupying a position that has previously been “good” (i.e. Dolores Umbridge at Hogwarts or Voldemort after he corrupts the Ministry of Magic), and Harry, along with many others, understands that it is imperative to resist that power, demonstrating in a different way that blind obedience isn’t the highest good. The Order of the Phoenix, in particular, was responsible for planting the seeds of rebellion that eventually led me out of the cult, sprouting into my current commitment to justice and activism today.

On the other hand, Harry Potter also taught me that you have to be prepared to accept the consequences of your actions. Not every time he went against the rules or advice of his elders did it turn out well. He has to live with the knowledge that he led his godfather to his death because he failed to heed warnings that Voldemort might try to manipulate him.

He also doesn’t always use his power for good. He nearly murders Draco by shouting out an unknown curse in anger, and he attempts the cruciatus curse on Bellatrix out of rageful grief.

Part of his coming of age is working through the consequences of his choices and learning that he is neither invincible nor infallible. He has to learn that he needs others to temper his impulsivity and help him learn to compensate for where he is vulnerable. He also has to guard against becoming like those he fights against. What good is it to defeat Voldemort if he becomes as bad as Voldemort?

I’ll go ahead and wrap up now because this post is already getting long. These are just a handful of the lessons I learned from this remarkable collection of books. They guide me in some way every day, whether in my relationships, my activism, or my professional life.

I’m curious now, in what ways has the Harry Potter series influenced you?