A Guide to Living in Modern Wartime

Maybe you woke up afraid today too. I wish I could sit down and write a real, in-depth, and genuinely helpful “Guide to Living in Modern Wartime” but I have no idea what to do. Sorry for the bait and switch. The thing is, I don’t think anyone really knows. Perhaps we’ve passed the point where it’s possible to have enough real and accurate information paired with adequate perspective and understanding to cultivate solid advisement. TLDR: you’re on your own kid.

So what do we do with the fear that’s settling deep in our bones? There’s plenty of examples being shown to us—I guess we just pick a player? Or maybe there’s another path to pave.

As a millennial I can’t really remember a time before unprecedented times. So I think it’s time we stop trying to pretend anyone knows what they are doing. Clinging to false confidence offers a beautiful facade of control but behind the shiny exterior is a black ball of fear just trying to frantically hang on. We are sacred. We don’t know what to do. Those are the terms. This is what we are playing at. It’s time to accept, sign, and deliver something only we can—hope.

Fear can paralyze us or even worse, it can destroy and deteriorate until we find ourselves acting so far outside our values we completely lose touch on what is real, what matters, and most of all, what is good. It can bring us to place where we find ourselves more stressed about what to post than how to live. Optics over everything.

Remember the black squares of 2020? Bless our hearts.

Fear can cultivate shame that fuels hate and dehumanization is a desperate attempt to feel safe and ok. Comparison, judgement, distance, othering, and verbal and physical attacks are usually ultimately rooted in fear. It’s that powerful. And if we somehow are able to avoid all that we might just find ourselves paralyzed, immobilized, and holding on from one panic attack to the next. I articulate all this with so much compassion. I’ve been all these places.

But there’s another way. Fear can destroy so many things in so many ways, but it also serves us. There’s an evolutionary (and maybe divine idk) reason you’re scared to jump off a cliff. Fear legitimately protects us sometimes. What if fear is God given, and thus can be God guided?

It’s time for us to alchemize our fear into courageous action. And maybe that looks like posts and protests and public activism. AND. It looks like hope.

Something that happens when you experience a life-altering tragedy is that you learn what matters when nothing matters. And in my experience it looks different than you might expect. Grief isn’t an emotion as much as it is a teacher. For me, what I thought to be the most mundane parts of my life became the most meaningful.

We need more mundane courage. We need more mundane service. We need more mundane action. It might not be the stuff that makes the history books, but it is the stuff that sustains life, shares light, and keeps mattering on a Monday—even on tragic, terrifying, and war-filled Mondays.

Our world is terrifying. So much is out of our control. But that’s not the narrative we have the luxury of leaning into. Now more than ever, we must choose hope.

Creating hope will look different for each of us, and that’s why this will work. We are all called to different efforts, different causes, and different service—but if we all show up the collective will rise. We will get each other through, one community and one human at a time. We can’t fall in the trap of criticizing and critiquing those who are called to different work than you. We can’t  give in to apathy. Effort matters.

I don’t know what to do! I’m figuring it out one day at a time. But I’m trying. Choose hope. Create hope. Make an effort. Trust the impact. And keep keep keep trying.

Deep breath. Let’s go.