Do the Next Right Thing

Lately I've been feeling kind of...helpless. This virus is nasty and horrible. People are dying, or their bodies are being permanently damaged. There are freaking Auschwitz signs at protests. Apparently we have some kind of terrifying death wasp here in Washington. And on top of everything else, there is a LOT of unkindness happening on social media these days.

I get that emotions are running high. People are scared and when we get scared, we lose sight of all reality that doesn't fit with what we already believe. The stuff we read and re-post only serves to reinforce our beliefs.

After all of this is over, some people are going to find that they were wrong. Others are going to find that they have the ultimate "I TOLD YOU SO" moment. It doesn't matter. What is going to happen is going to happen. We still have to live with each other. Although not if you are holding up a Nazi sign at a rally. If you think holding up a Nazi sign is okay, we can't be friends. I'm sorry. That's my boundary, right there.

I was scrolling through Facebook yesterday and I realized: I'm done. I'm done trying to convince anyone on social media that I am right or that I have the best evidence or that I know what course this world is going to take. I don't. It's scary, and I feel helpless and sad when I see people tearing each other apart online because THEY are scared and sad and feel helpless.

Have you seen Frozen 2 yet? If you're a parent, I'm sure you have. Princess Anna has a song that she sings, early in the second act, called The Next Right Thing. The full lyrics are here.

This song describes grief better than anything I have ever heard, and isn't that what we are all doing right now? We are grieving, and grief is a bitch. Grief makes us scared, and selfish, and hyper-focused on our very specific point of view. Grief leads to lashing out online, becoming rude and snarky and anti-social to anyone who does not agree with us.

I won't look too far ahead,
It's too much for me to take.
But break it down to this next breath
This next step
This next choice is one that I can make.

So I'll walk through this night
Stumbling blindly toward the light
And do the next right thing
And with the dawn, what comes then?

When it's clear that everything will never be the same again?
Then I'll make the choice
To hear the voice
And do the next right thing.

All around us is chaos. But the cure for helplessness is the next right thing. I can't save anyone's job (although with the amount of takeout we've been eating lately, we are sure trying,) and I'm not a doctor or nurse, so I can't jump in there and help Covid patients. I can hug my kids, though. I can bake bread for my neighbors and put my freezing cold hands on Jesse's back (it's a massage and an ice pack at the same time!) and plant vegetables and put up murder hornet traps.

The amazing Marshawn Lynch, of the Seattle Seahawks, gave a press conference last January, where he talked about mentoring younger players. The line that was quoted endlessly the next day by a hundred different sports analysts was "Take care of y'all mentals, take care of y'all chickens, take care of y'all bread." Take care of what is in front of you. Do the next right thing.