Ostrich

Hands over ears, eyes shut tight, mouth saying “Lalalalalalalalalalala.”  It’s a coping strategy that works for me. But for the last 24 hours, I haven’t been working it.

It takes a long time–decades, maybe even a lifetime–to learn one’s own limits. And a mountain of resolve and grace to respect them, day in and day out. The problem drinker, with rigorous honesty, faces the truth that he can’t ‘just have a beer’ like everybody else. The person with a chronic illness forces herself to turn down projects because if she gets overtired, it will set her back for months.

This is the season of deals, bargains, resolutions, and squaring with one’s Higher Power. Perhaps more than at any other time, the new year allows people to see themselves clearly. What’s more, the self-examination often comes through the lens of hope and possibility, rather than judgement or self-deprecation. We decide we want to lose weight or spend more time with our children not because we’re god-awful-heavy or terrible parents, but because we truly believe in something better. We see our future selves so well in our minds that we naturally step into action.

A week ago my new year’s resolutions were all about doing a few things differently. But today, I realize there are other things I need to keep doing exactly the same way.  Like my media diet. I fell off the wagon yesterday. I learned about the Arizona tragedy and got sucked in. I read stories and then clicked links to more stories. Even as I was doing it, I knew better. As a result, I got my sleepless night. I got my anxious day.

The truth is that I can’t just “engage the media” the way other people can. One person’s news is this writer’s poison.  I understand that now. Again. Amen.