Through trials and tribulations, reading and writing, listening, experiencing, I have discovered a distressing truth that this world we’ve created for ourselves—this rogue capitalist society—is not child friendly.
(Not only is it not child friendly. It is not human friendly. It is not animal friendly. It is not ecosystem friendly. It is harmful. Hurtful.)
It is in no way designed with children’s best interests in mind.
Yet we have the audacity to label, medicate, and punish children who protest. Children who through their “abnormal” behaviors or moods communicate: “Things are amiss.” “I am hurting.” “Let me play.”
It has hit me so hard this year that the increase in childhood mental distress is not just a result of test-based education, inadequate parenting skills, broken homes, poverty… It is caused by the very core of our economic system where everything is for sale and little attention is paid to the common good.
This is big.
We know the source of the problem. We can stop band-aiding and start creating real, lasting solutions. But there are so many obstacles in the way: Citizens United, undemocratic campaign financing, multi-national corporations, sketchy trade agreements, policies favoring corporate vs. human interests.
Lack of time…
I want to shout from the rooftops all day that we can create a better society for our children if we take the time to look at the bigger picture. If we create policies that reduce income inequality, provide dignified occupation for all, discourage rampant consumerism, allow young people to get an education that helps them match their skills with their interests, provide basic needs for all people—realizing that all people contribute to society in their own way.
But I too am stuck in the system—in need of income to pay for a mortgage and food and other needs and wants. I have a full-time job. I’m tired when I’m done with work. I want to embrace a slow lifestyle that is largely unplugged when I’m off the clock. I don’t want to wile my life away on Facebook and Twitter.
And therein lies the dilemma.
Do I work into the evening and on weekends to get my voice heard through writing and an online social presence to try to make change happen for our kids? Or do I live slowly—lingering over dinner, meeting up with friends for laughs and conversation, making myself available to others, taking care of my body, making music, sitting quietly and just being?
I’ve been trying on slow living for the past week at our new home in Northern Virginia. My husband and I have a one-bedroom apartment with minimal maintenance. We have an empty nest. I’m working from home. And my next MBA class doesn’t start until the end of October. I haven’t started any new projects.
It’s been nice. We’ve gone for post-dinner walks with our dog. We’ve gone out to eat. We’ve socialized. We even went to Target together (what?!).
It’s been… normal.
But there is a constant nagging at the back of my mind—urging me to keep telling our story. To help people make the connection between kids’ mental health and social justice (the solution is not more mental health services). To advocate for the next generation. To find more ways go make my voice heard.
A dilemma indeed.
I would love your words of wisdom now.
I, too, move awkwardly in that dance between self-care and care for the world. I’m working on being a more graceful dancer, and found that breathing is a great teacher. Paraphrasing Thich Nhat Hanh: “Breathing in, I receive; breathing out I give…breathing in, I am nourished; breathing out, I nourish others…breathing in, being; breathing out, doing”, etc. Were we to constantly breathe out, we’d run out of air. (aka burnout!) Were we to only breathe in, we’d…I dunno… selfishly implode? These words of Thomas Merton made me stop, take a deep breath in, and then release that guilty feeling that I wasn’t doing enough: “There is a pervasive form of contemporary violence to which the idealist most easily succumbs: activism and overwork. The rush and pressure of modern life are a form, perhaps the most common form, of its innate violence. To allow oneself to be carried away by a multitude of conflicting concerns, to surrender to too many demands, to commit oneself to too many projects, to want to help everyone in everything, is to succumb to violence. The frenzy of our activism neutralizes our work for peace. It destroys our own inner capacity for peace. It destroys the fruitfulness of our own work, because it kills the root of inner wisdom which makes work fruitful.” So finding the right balance for each of ourselves is key, and I wish you wisdom and the joy of the dance as you create that balance in your life! We need your voice out there, so please don’t run out of air! And lastly, these words were on my bathroom mirror for years: “Your compassion is incomplete if it does not include yourself.” (Some say Buddha said that, some say Jack Kornfield did.)
Ask and you shall receive! Wise words indeed. Just what I needed. I will come back to this again and again. I love this: “Were we to constantly breathe out, we’d run out of air. (aka burnout!) Were we to only breathe in, we’d…I dunno… selfishly implode?” So true!
Thank you Peggy.
Excellent essay, Tabita. In an insane socio-economic system, how do we judge sanity? Add to your list of “abnormal aspects of this culture that have come to be considered normal” — children age 14 and younger have ALWAYS lived in a nation at war. Militarization of the country and the expenditure of more than 20 percent of the federal budget on military operations, materials, and care of veterans has come to be considered normal. The unilateral use of violence by the United States as a tool of foreign policy has become normal. The politically motivated paranoia about “the other” (any person of color, any culture that is not WASP) has come to be considered normal. Going against the grain (rebelling against these bizarre and hurtful things), whether consciously or subconsciously, is regarded as abnormal behavior. Rational, compassionate, humanistic thoughts and emotions are considered abnormal. Insane thoughts and actions have become normal. Sanity has become insanity. Insanity has become sanity. We have become Huxley’s “Brave New World.”
Thanks Jerry. Those are some really great additions to the “abnormal turns normal” list. Scary! And this: “Sanity has become insanity. Insanity has become sanity.” So true.
I like to end my talks with this quote by Jiddu Krishnamurti: “It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society.” I see children as our canaries in the coal mine. Problem is we’re not paying attention. I hope to change that.
Nicely done, Tabita. And an interesting parallel to the process of retirement that I’m exploring. I like to call it “reFirement” to acknowledge that I have work to do, projects to work on, and I don’t want to just sit back and twiddle my thumbs. And, as you say, it’s all to easy to fill the days with new exciting, necessary projects (even FB and reading the NYTimes).
But where/how in this busy refirement do I protect time for walking, reading for pleasure, meditating, just sitting and watching the sun go down? I’m looking for ways to be intentional about my slow time, just as I plan my busy activities. I “schedule” time in my daily routine for meditation and walking (while listening to audio books…). Maybe I need to make time for just sitting. I don’t even know how to do that. Maybe after I’ve gotten used to taking some sitting time each day I won’t need to always schedule it.
Maybe out of these quiet times will come some of the creative ideas that are needed to confront the inhumanity of the society we’ve created. I’ve noticed this happens sometimes in conversations that follow group meditation and council practice. Being together with others in quiet spaces seems to work for me sometimes.
Thanks Craig. I love reFirement! I want to reFire. :) And I absolutely agree (but seem to forget) that “out of these quiet times will come some of the creative ideas that are needed to confront the inhumanity of the society we’ve created.” I look forward to following your reFirement journey.
I recently re-discovered this short essay by Clarissa Pinkola Estes and thought of all of us:
http://www.grahameb.com/pinkola_estes.htm
*Love*