How are you protecting your peace?

Getting outside is one way I find my balance, especially for the spectacular sunsets over the Mississippi River.

Late last year, I bought myself a small set of watercolors, a few brushes and a sketchbook.

I was inspired by a lovely afternoon I had spent doing art with a couple of friends: Painting, rolling colors together to make gelli prints, trying out all kinds of stencils and stamps. It was a pure release from the cares of the day, as we chatted, ate Dorito’s, complimented each other’s creativity and lost track of time.

But I never opened the watercolors or looked again the blank sketchbook. Until this week.

Part of it is that I was intimidated: I think the last time I painted with watercolors (before the art date with my friends) I was in second grade. I don’t even really know how to think of beginning to paint. And I won’t be sharing my efforts with anyone any time soon.

But the other part is that I am actively working to protect myself from the emotional roller coaster that living in America feels like right now, and I knew I needed to do something drastic. Deciding to paint by myself on a sunny Saturday afternoon at my kitchen table might be the first time I’ve ever been this intentional about it.

Because my day job involves staying up-to-date on all kinds of news (and because once you’re a journalist, you’re always a journalist), I spend a lot of time every day reading and listening to what’s happening locally, nationally and globally.

I don’t have to tell you that it’s a lot. And I believe the columnists and pundits who remind us that the overwhelm is the point. There’s only so much information — and outrage — anyone can take in before the mind shuts down.

I know: It’s tempting to retreat. To decide there’s nothing we can do. To hope that what’s happening won’t affect you or anyone you love or care about.

But that’s just not so: The chaos and cruelty of some of the big decisions being made right now will affect ALL of us, no matter your age, race or economic privilege.

If you believe, as I do, that Dr. King was right, you can’t look away for long:

“We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.”

So I’ve been painting.

And doing yoga.

And singing.

And working to prioritize time with friends who can hear my deepest concerns and share theirs.

I’ve also written to my elected representatives to implore them to notice the consequences of their recklessness and work for ALL of their constituents, not just the ones who voted for them. (No, I don’t think my notes will change anything. But I have to send them.) I’m sure more advocacy, activism — and anxiety — is in my future.

But for now, let’s take care of each other.

How are you protecting your peace?