Over the past week or so, I haven’t been feeling my best. I had stopped reading the news, or watching TV, or looking at anything other than books and my real-life friends’ accounts on social media. The internet had begun to feel like a toxic place, and I knew I needed a break in order to protect my heart, and my physical well-being. But, with the election quickly approaching, and social unrest continuing to simmer in my own community, and around the country, I felt like it was time to re-engage.
And guess what? It was worse than I thought it would be. But this time, instead of feeling scared, and sad, and anxious (all of which I had been feeling earlier in the summer), I got mad. Really mad.
I feel like anger, especially in women, is often viewed as a very undesirable emotion. It’s something we all feel, but no one really wants to talk about or acknowledge. It feels messy, and sometimes inappropriate: as if it’s a feeling we should have all outgrown in childhood.
So last week, I didn’t really share with anyone just how angry I was. Or, for that matter, what I was angry about.
But the thing about anger, for me at least, is that it tends to fester when left unexpressed. My husband has the enviable ability to notice his feelings (even those of anger), quietly process them, and then let them go. (Is he human? I’m still not sure.) But for me, the letting go part usually only happens after I allow myself to put words to my feelings.
In the first draft of this post, I laid all of my feelings bare. And then I went back and deleted them.
While I have been mad about a lot of things that are legitimately maddening, worrisome, and hurtful, they are also all things that are in no way under my control. As much as I would like to, I can not change many of the problems we are continuing to experience across the country, and within my own community. But even though I know I can’t control them, I still have trouble letting them go, and I have found myself allowing all of these uncontrollable triggers and the anger they elicit in me take up WAY too much room in my mind, and in my heart. Room that should be filed with love for my children and gratitude that I get to be home with them every day during this wildly uncertain time.
Last weekend, my brother-in-law and his soon-to-be wife came to visit, and left us with a few new children’s books, which I’m sure they realized would be a gift for Margot, but also a gift for me.
One of those books is called “The Moon Keeper” by Zosienka, which is absolutely lovely and conveys a message that is so incredibly timely for me, and possibly for some of you as well.
The book is about a bear (at least, I think he’s a bear?), named Emile, who has been assigned the job of “moon keeper” by the council of night creatures.
He takes his job very seriously, and diligently watches the moon from his perch on a tree branch every night. One night, Emile is alarmed to notice that the moon appears to be shrinking. He calls on many of his friends for advice, but none of them seem to know how to help. Eventually, a bird comes along and listens to Emile’s concerns. In response, the bird flies away, and then back again, and tells Emile, simply, “Things come and go—you’ll see.”
Things come and go. They do. Always. In September of 2020, it feels like “things” are sticking around longer than any of us would like, but, eventually, they will go. Politicians will leave office, and new ones will take their place (likely providing us with a new set of things to be mad about). People will continue to come together against hate and ignorance, and, I truly believe, my faith in humanity, and my neighbors, will be restored. People will hear the stories teachers have to tell this year, and maybe our society will begin to take a long hard look at the ways in which educators are treated and regarded, and the impact that treatment has on the education and moral development of our kids. The pandemic will end, and maybe it will come back again, but it will always ebb and flow. And I think now, finally, I am beginning to understand that my anger will do the same as well.
I am allowed to feel mad, just like I am allowed to feel joyful, or sad, or overwhelmed, or confused. But I can’t let my anger linger, in a state as perpetually full as Emile wants his new moon to be. While I won’t compromise my beliefs, or what I know is right, there are many things I have to let go of. I have to let my feelings wane, while also being prepared for when they resurface again, as they surly will.
So, on this lovely Sunday night during this beautiful season of waning summer and waxing fall, I hope you all take a moment to remember that whatever your struggle is right now, it will eventually, and probably slowly, become less and less. And even though a new problem will inevitably arise, each journey through the cycle helps make us strong enough to weather the next. Sending strength to anyone who needs it, and hugs to all. And, most importantly, happy reading!
The Book: Click To Purchase
