Small Pleasantries

Have you looked at the news lately? Because I have and I hate it. All of it. A flurry of executive orders causing chaos and anxiety. Everyone I know is on-edge at best and exceedingly depressed at worst. Every time I pick up my phone I’m worried some new bit of news about the ghastliest people I’ve ever heard of is going to ruin my day. I’ve been angry for a week.

But instead of making another list of my grievances and outrages, or writing another profanity-laden rant about how much I hate you-know-who with every fiber of my being, I’m going to focus today on the small pleasantries that are keeping me sane and grounded. This is not me closing my eyes and plugging my ears to ignore the state of things, but rather what I focus on to re-center myself in between bouts of blood-boiling outrage.

My son is getting better and better at the flute. He’s only just begun playing this school year but he’s already been chosen to play in the elementary school band. Having him learn music was very important to me, and it does my heart well to see him actively enjoying it.

My son also got his own game console this past Christmas, and for a few weeks he and I were actively gaming together. We’d played Mario Kart and Mario Party before, but playing co-op on two different consoles feels like the next step up. He’s been distracted by other things lately, so I hope we’ll get back into it soon, because I was really enjoying that new connection we were forging together.

Game night with my friends has always been important, but now it’s vital to my mental health. I’m grateful we play remotely several times a week, and all have nighttime schedules that match up for us to do it fairly regularly. I don’t know what I’d do without my boys.

My elderly cat had us worried again, as he’d lost a lot of weight over several months. We switched up his diet from his prescription dry food (which he’d been eating exclusively since his near-fatal health ordeal last year) back to wet food, and he’s been thrilled to eat again. He still has a bony “old cat back” but some of the chunk has returned to his face and middle. At sixteen(!) years old he’s not going to be a fat cat again, but at least we’re not worried about him any more.

There’s plenty to be outraged about, and I will continue to get increasingly angry about them in these coming days, but when it threatens to overwhelm me I try to focus on these things to help me let off some steam. There is goodness out there, and good people out there doing good things, and when the flood is about to wash over your head you can use those small pleasantries to buoy you through the worst of it.