The stories we tell ourselves
Let's (not) get political.
I had a deadline looming on Wednesday afternoon so obviously, I took to Facebook to waste time and was immediately sorry I'd clicked that dumb blue icon on my phone.
I was disheartened to see the partisan rhetoric following Tuesday's State of the Union address. In particular, I cringed seeing posts and comments by friends and neighbors, who took to social media to vent.
I'm not saying we shouldn't have opinions. I certainly do -- just ask my kids. But I think we should keep them to ourselves. Or at any rate, not push them out in a public forum. It's just not productive. And mostly, we really need to respect other people's opinions.
That's where the trouble comes in. I'm not happy when I see comments on Facebook by another mom in my town who I really respect, or my son's former baseball coach, that are wildly different from my own political stance. But, like, what is the point? Validation? Do they think they're going to change people's minds on Facebook?
I found this out the hard way a few months ago, when I impulsively posted on our town's mom Facebook group about our fair borough's emergency siren that blares numerous times daily not far from my house. I complained that in 2019, there seemed to be better ways to communicate emergencies to our volunteer responders than the equivalent of a bat signal. Yes?
What came at me was an avalanche of, dare I say, hate from mostly total strangers (albeit, fellow moms in town). Pretty much, I got cancelled. Hard. In fact one of the mommies even messaged me when it was over to continue the harassment, to which I asked, "Haven't I been bullied enough?" I never heard back from her.
In this case, I was just as much to blame. I should have known better than to have a temper tantrum on Facebook. Usually, I save that drama for the people who love me. So, I opened myself up to the criticism, but let me tell you, the mommies were fucking mean to someone they did not know. But I was really upset by the whole episode and laid in my bed in the middle of the night wishing hateful things on my attackers, as you do.
Here's the thing: social media lets us hide behind our masks. It's too easy to forget that the people saying the stuff you disagree with are also the people who you're standing next to in the deli line and who make sacrifices to coach your kid or come to your rescue on Facebook when all the other moms are attacking you. And one my snarky commenters was actually a girl who went to school with one of my kids (also: why is she in a mom's group?) who I have fond memories of sitting in a hallway and reading book to one year on Dr. Seuss Day.
What I'm trying to say is that people are so much more than the shit they say on Facebook but sometimes, it's easy to forget that.
A few weeks ago I went to a talk in NYC about Radical Compassion. The speaker discussed many ideas about self love and extending that to everyone else, and we got to do a few exercises during the two hour presentation. Towards the end, she had us pair up and turn to each other and look into each other's eyes for five minutes. It was a powerful exercise in seeing past someone's outer mask to see their inner goodness. That they want to love and be loved, just like you and me.
Afterwards, we closed out eyes and were asked to conjure someone in our life who challenges us and to try to see past that person's mask, and I thought of my mother, with whom I have not spoken in over three years. And while the rift is a result of over 50 years of dysfunction, one of the biggest factors is that neither of us is able to look past the other's mask and see her humanity.
But that night, I imagined what that would be like, looking into my mom's blue eyes, and seeing her as someone who struggles, just like me. I felt the hot tears steam down my cheeks as I imagined what it would be like to just accept my mother for who she was. Politics and all.
All of this is to say, we are a divided people. And if we don't shut the fuck up now, we are doomed in November.
Vote your mind and conscience and find that group to whom you can text all the stuff that blows your mind but on social media, I just want to see pictures of your dog or what you ate last night. I would rather see that blurry bowl of pasta than a rant about politics.
Because you might not sway my vote, but I could very well be convinced to make that pasta for dinner next week.
Happy Friday and ONWARD!
xoAmy
Okay, could this be construed as political? Honestly, I'm not sure where the woman from whom I bought these dog treats at a farmer's market in Vermont stood politically. And, if she had Obama cookies, I would have bought a few of them, too. Want your own? She'll ship them (or all sorts of fun/clever shapes she makes) to your door.
This Friday's Faves
I'll tell you what's not political: all the shiz I've been into this week:
I'm officially on the weighted blanket band wagon, despite being totally dubious last Christmas when one of my girls had it on her wish list and it was so $$ it was like the only thing she got. But then we bought a cheaper one from Target for her bed when she comes for a visit (#queen) and I recently lugged it up to my room to give it a spin. I'd just listened to a podcast episode where the two girls were like plotzing over how great their sleep has been weighed down by a blanket, and then I remembered I had one just sitting in my basement. The verdict: get one. I've had a much easier time getting back to sleep since I've started sleeping under the thing and find it strangely comforting. I also have to have all the windows open and my ceiling fan spinning on the TORNADO setting, but that's another reason why not having to share a bedroom is #thetits. The girls on the podcast recommend this blanket, and I have this one from Target.
My pal, Dan, was raving this week about some cashew cream he made and spooned onto some farro and it sounded so yummy, I needed to try. Soak a cup of raw cashews in water for an hour. Dump out and add the nuts and maybe half to full cup of fresh water into your Bullet/Vitamix/blender with some lemon juice and tumeric and mix to a cream. The internet is filled with ideas for what to do with it. I put on farro with some avocado, chicken and -- wait for it -- a sprinkling of cashews that I threw into the oven to roast. OH MY GOD. I need to finish this so I can go eat so more. Also, picky daughter found delightful as well.
Okay, Old Navy is having a sale on workout stuff (through 2/10) and my girl and I went yesterday and we got HOOKED UP. First of all, I worked at Athleta for one, grueling, year, and Old Navy stuff is as good, if not better. And way cheaper. Like, $25 right now for the cutest leggings. And tops. And bras (man, I needed new sports bras). Finally, I had just eyed this Everlane anorak to get my new working girl for commuting on cold, rainy days, and then I spied this yesterday at Old Navy. It's nice looking IRL, is lined in fleece and has that longer bottom in the back, a classic Athleta move. BUT HERE'S THE BIG NEWS: if you use your Gap/Banana/Athleta/Old Navy card YOU GET 40 PERCENT OFF YOUR ENTIRE PURCHASE. Add that to the $65 in rewards points I had to use, and I'd say we tricked Old Navy yesterday.
Finally, I would like to encourage you to share this newsletter with any other weirdos you think might enjoy it and, if you haven't already, to right in your inbox. Easy. Peasy.
xoAmy