What now?

How I'm thinking about life under this administration

Here are some Vermont woods before we really get going

The horrors persist

I know thoughts about this administration are everywhere, and I’m sorry to add to the noise. I would like to be able to turn it down and go back to regular life for a while. Unfortunately this is regular life. This is impacting my job, and my friends, and my body—which hums with anxiety and cPTSD remembering the mockery, the apathy, the invisibility and lack of care.

I’m seeing a pattern among people I know. The ones who rejoice are conservative Christians; the ones who voted Trump because “the economy” defend their position on the grounds of one-issue voting; the ones who’ve moved on and say, ah well, only four years have lived largely normal lives. But the people who are alarmed are trauma survivors.

The traumatized and abused people are saying, This is familiar. This is not good. This feels like high-control; this feels like fundamentalism; this feels like abusive relationships, narcissism, cults. The people coming from those church and relationship situations are saying they’ve seen this before.

We are the truth-tellers in our families and churches and workplaces, who got silenced and accused and kicked out and maligned because we said “This is wrong.” We are the ones who have spoken out before. It is time to listen to the people who have been bullied, belittled, and controlled, and got out. We are still trying to protect the people left behind.

And this administration will get worse before it gets better, because nobody grasps for unchecked power just to voluntarily give it up. —This should not be a surprise.

So what do we do now?

Here’s how I’m approaching the next four years (or, more realistically, the next week. Small steps. Big breaths):

• Act where I have agency. I can’t steer the ship of state (besides voting. In which case, I freaking vote. We didn’t even have 75% turnout in 2024, can you believe it). But what can I do?

• Get local.

  • Do I know my neighbors? Do I go physically to my library? Do I chat with the dog owners who let me pet their good boi?

  • I’m finding classes and events near me through Hoamsy.

  • Get coffee at a local spot.

  • Follow up on Google community events or local newsletters (like Boston’s BSide).

• Help people. We need strong and stronger social bonds. There is no care (verb) where there is no care (noun).

  • I’m working on more consistently calling my friends.

  • Volunteer.

  • Find soup kitchens and shelters near me, and donate.

  • I’m donating what I have: food, clothes, time or money.
    Money is a form of rest—giving rest to people who don’t have it is a wonderful act of love and resistance.

• Cultivate my own humanity. What regulates my nervous system? What helps me rest and love and think and delight? Life—and this presidency—is a marathon. I can’t despair. I can’t burn out.

• Focus on what lasts. The horrors have always persisted, but so have works of art and works of love, words, trees, and examples of human kindness, human goodness, and the wonders of the earth.

This too shall pass. Invest¹ in what matters.

1. yuck i hate financial metaphors haha. Been trying to use organic metaphors more, because it really does change how I think about life. But you lose, like, all your credibility when you say “Propagate what matters.” lol.