Coping Mechanisms
for when you need them
Reading, particularly when you can’t find anything to watch, when watching something new feels like an untenable risk, when your phone is just a pile of rakes to step on. (Just finished: The Sirens’ Call by Chris Hayes; just started: Not for the Faint of Heart by Lex Croucher.)
Camembert and black pepper water crackers; sliced cucumbers and radishes; variations on amatriciana; coffee ice cream
A movie, from back when we used to make movies instead of commercials. (Center Stage; also considered: Italian Job, Empire Records, Wimbledon, The Fast & The Furious)
A compliment on your hair from the young woman working at Starbucks, impossible to engineer but an iced vanilla latte will do in a pinch.
Cleaning up your apartment, unfortunately - unpacking the packages, folding the clothes, washing the dishes, tossing the junk mail. Also in this category: making a thorough to do list that includes the tasks you’ve been avoiding because they make you anxious; flossing; picking some real meals to cook even though you’ll also have to do the dishes this time
Blueberry muffins, made by someone who loves you or by a local bakery or by the grocery store, or by yourself I guess if you’ve finished all of your chores from number 5.
A new phone case because the old one was coming apart, and a new PopWallet decorated with campari tomatoes, even though you think you might by a new phone this week since Verizon is having a sale, and with the tariffs this might be your last chance to get a new phone for a few decades and your president plans on giving all your money to billionaires who literally won’t notice because your entire net worth is less than they lose in their couch cushions.
Yoga. Seriously, I know its early and you’d rather just stay in bed, and there may be a moment about ten minutes in where you think to yourself I was right this was a terrible idea I do NOT feel better but its not going to kill you and it will probably help you and there is literally no point in setting your alarm for 7am so that you can scroll on your phone for two hours before work. The alarm has already gone off, you are already awake - get up and do your yoga!
If you’re not going to do yoga, at least wash your face and use your nice lotion before you make coffee and grab a muffin and read your book for a little while. You are literally already awake, and your phone is the bad place.
A candidate for mayor who wants to start a network of city owned grocery stores, after how many years of you yelling “socialized grocery stores!!!!” at anyone who will listen when you and your friends get together and drink a little too much wine and try to fix the world (it’s not going great, but we’ll save that for next time).
Saying to yourself “okay fine! I will go knock doors for Zohran!!!” is not a coping mechanism, but actually going to knock on said doors probably will be.
Pictures of your friends and their stupidly cute babies.
Writing your romance novel. When it feels like too much you can just pull up the google doc on your phone and put a few words down. First drafts are supposed to be bad, but there’s something there, something worth digging out, and two characters who deserve a happy ending that only you can give them.
College towns in the morning, quiet with coffee and the fantasy of a life spent reading and writing and thinking in a world that understands and believes in and supports it.
Cleaning your glasses. It’s a little disconcerting how many of these involve cleaning, isn’t it?
Going to bed early. Sleeping in.
Taking one deep breath.
And another
And another.
I’ve been thinking a lot about this piece I wrote a few years ago, about planning for the future when the future feels unstable or even impossible. So, after a short post this week, I’ll leave you with this:
It’s not that I think our future is assured, that the heavens guarantee a successful revolution and a more utopian future. For one, even successful revolutions hurt. For another, revolutions are born of trauma, and there is nothing heavenly, ordained, or utilitarian about the pain people are experiencing now as those in power fight to strip us of rights, resources, autonomy and future. Our future is collective, but so is our responsibility to right the wrongs of unequal distribution. Despair tries to absolve us of action. It tells us nothing can ever change so why bother trying. But we owe it to ourselves and each other not to listen. Nothing ever changes until it does.