Racial tension.
Transgender people needing to feel safe in bathrooms.
Mothers of young children needing to feel safe in bathrooms.
Donald Trump. Hilary Clinton.
Artificial intelligence.
Global warming.

My budget.
Too many things for me to worry about.

I can’t say I was born a worrier. But I was definately raised as one. It’s not really my parents fault. I come from a long line of worriers. Both my beautiful grandmas, bless them, were top of the line worriers. They lived through  some pretty crazy times in history, to be sure. On the other hand, lucky for them, that was before all this “news at the tip of your fingers in one instant” crap. The Internet, as far as news is concerned, has really outdone itself. Take a chill pill, World Wide Web.

I’ve been thinking lately how important it is, amidst the madness, to be grounded.
Grounded like, it doesn’t throw you that your friends have very definite opinions and make strong statements. Grounded like, you’re not destroyed by the things that bother you about the world today.
I want to be bold enough that I influence the world. But calm enough that I don’t ruin my brain and my heart doing it. Not that being an influence in the world won’t cost something, it will. Surely it will. I just don’t want to pay interest on what it costs me. You know? And I don’t want to be so ruined by my worries at this step that I have to sit the next three or four steps out caz I’m trying to recover from having gone to crazy land. Because I think that crazy land is the next stop, right after Worry Blvd. Am I right?

We need to care for ourselves, care for our hearts. To be bold enough to watch out for our beautiful hearts. And even more if we are entrusted with little ones to love, we must care for our own hearts so that we are truly available to them.

I was thinking about the things that make me feel grounded: grass under my bare feet, (actually, literally called “grounding”!), sunshine, wind on my face. A big beautiful glass of water.
And coffee comes to mind. And exercise. And since I’m being honest, chocolate.

And friends. Not just any friends. Friends who are honest. Who care. Who are insightful, but without the addition of pride. Friends who encourage, with genuine encouragement. Who laugh and who cry.  Who ooze kindness, without getting stuck in the trap of being “nice.”

Things to worry about, they ain’t going nowhere. But, I’m not going anywhere either. I’m gonna be right here in my corner of the world, with my bare feet on the ground and my coffee mug in hand. And I pray to be brave, to be strong, to be kind.

And I wonder. How’d I write a whole list of worries and leave out potty training and grocery shopping?
I think it’s gonna be a two cup of coffee kind of a day. Oh well. No worries.