How to Stay Sane in Insane Times

Photo by DANNY G on Unsplash

"I think I'm losing my mind."

If I had a dime for every time I've heard that over the course of the past eight years as I've traveled this country or perused my inbox, I'd be writing this from my expansive villa in Tuscany while U2 performs in the courtyard.

Slingshotting around America and talking to a disparate swath of its people in progressive churches, women's groups, humanist conferences, activist communities, and civic gatherings, a similar topical thread has run through so many of the conversations I've had with people: insanity (or at least, the suspicion that one has become swiftly and hopelessly afflicted with it.)

People otherwise secured in their mental faculties have looked at a world that now feels completely inverted, at former bedrock assumptions that seem to be shaking wildly, at once hard-and-fast rules for humanity that no longer seem to apply—and have determined that either they or the world has gone crazy. 

More often than not, I find myself in the disquieting tension of telling people that it is most certainly not them (which of course, might actually be much easier to deal with.) Far more manageable a proposition to contend with a singular, rather than a collective mass breakdown—but this is where we are, America. 

In other words: it probably isn't you. You're probably not losing your mind, though you may feel like you are.

No matter the long and meandering road we've taken to get here, the political and personal catalysts, the toxic cocktail of tribalism, fear, and religious fervor that have created it—we are now living in dangerous days for caring and clear-headed people, who are trying to stay tethered to sanity when the environment is increasingly hostile to it.

There have been many casualties of our recent national history: relational fractures and political divides and culture wars that seem too numerous to inventory, and yet worse than all of those—may be the fact that goodness has come to feel like a liability. Compassionate people have begun to believe that they are oddities; emotional outliers whose efforts to care are passé and wasted. Maybe you feel that way.

It can be really easy to let these nonsensical days get inside of you and get the best of you. Here are some suggestions on what you can do so that doesn't happen:

Engage and Withdraw. Life and activism are about the two-step dance of engaging and withdrawing—of both doing and being. The former is critical, but without the latter, you will be consumed by all the need and dysfunction and pain around you. Whether for you, peace is found in prayer, meditation, silence, solitude, or in nature—step away from the fray and recenter, so you can quiet your mind, refresh your body, and recalibrate your brain.

Get on social media. You have invaluable resources that those who came before you have never had. You have limitless access to ideas and to people, so lean into that as long as it helps. Stay informed so that you understand the complexities of the issues and the gravity of the moment—and find your tribe of affinity that isn't bound by your geography, so that you don't feel alone in your grief and your outrage.

Now, Get off social media! What our timelines and newsfeeds do for us at their worst, is exponentially up-size the bad news. We see stories of predatory legislation or corrupt politicians or acts of cruelty, dozens, sometimes hundreds of times as they are shared and retweeted—and this can artificially enlarge the information inside our heads, until the threats can seem insurmountable before we even get out of bed. We can believe we've lost the day prior to it even having started. Log out from time to time, so that you can right-size the danger and not fight with tall shadows.

Take a hope inventory. It's easy to focus on all that seems wrong in the world, since those are usually the things that trend and cut through the noise—but there are other stories as well; ones of good people being generous and decent and selfless. There are stories of simple acts of kindness, of national movements of justice, and of progress for humanity breaking out all over the world. Take time to seek out these stories and to dwell on them, because they will propel you forward into this day.

Cultivate gratitude. While hope is like gold right now, hope is aspirational; a not-quite, a some-day-soon, a yet-to-come. Hope is always looking to something in the future, just on the horizon. Gratitude is here and now, it is presently available to you, it is necessary soul food for this day. In the middle of working so hard to alter this place, dwell on what is worth celebrating and embracing, even if nothing changed.

Play. Spend some time intentionally welcoming lightness. Get with your children and be silly, or run around with your dog, or spend time with people you love and embrace joy. Watch movies that make you laugh. Get messy. Take a well-needed break from your seriousness. It isn't irresponsible, it's essential.

Create. In days that leave us depleted, it's so tempting to abandon the things that used to be life-giving, and yet those are often our strongest tethers to peace and purpose. Paint, write music, cook, build something, work in your garden. Staying connected with your muse will help remind you of your humanity and of the humanity around you. In dark times it's easy to let that spark inside dim. Make sure you keep yours.

Share the load. Right now it's sometimes easy to believe that you are the last of your kind; that no one is burdened by the things that burden you, that everyone is fine with all that you're not fine with. It's far easier to be gaslit when you're alone. Community helps us know that we're not crazy—and if we're not crazy, that we're in really good company! Find your tribe, whether in person or virtually, and carry the weight of the world together.

Friend, these are hazardous days if your faculties are intact and your heart is working properly and you have a life orientated toward other people.

Because of that, it's more important than ever that you guard your physical health, your spiritual center, and your emotional well-being.  You expiring prematurely or breaking down internally is not the goal here.

Yes, this world needs you, but the people who love you need you too—and you need you. Protect the single greatest resource you have in creating a more compassionate planet.

Find a way to be an activist and engaged citizen, without losing the best things about you.

Don’t sacrifice yourself on the altar of your empathy.

Living well isn't just the best revenge, it's also the greatest resistance.

These are indeed crazy times.

Don't lose your mind along with them.