this weekend i came to rockygrass, where we used to always go as a family.
it’s a beautiful experience of spending three days and nights by a colorado river, listening to quality musicians play and wandering around with happy “festivarians.”
but the reason for this post is not just to tell you about rockygrass or even about bluegrass. it’s not to talk about festival culture either.
the reason i am writing this piece is to unpack what it means to live in a world where it increasingly feels hard to connect with other humans in places that feel safe.
and by safe i mean emotionally safe.
take the pangram discussion raging across substack, for example.
people have all sorts of opinions, and often they are upset with those who don’t share the same philosophy.
and in this increasingly polarized world, it’s sometimes hard to find connection.
but for me it’s not even about the polarization “out there.”
my own life has become a place that feels so polarized.
as i have written here before, my whole life split apart with my husband finn’s death, and then my subsequent memories of childhood abuse.
and people took sides. but it isn’t just happening in my own life.
just look at our country.
if you live here in the u.s., there are people who support our current president, and there are those who don’t understand how someone who was best friends for years with one of the world’s largest child sex offenders, not to mention the millions of dollars he’s paid out to women who accused him of sexual assault.
and as a survivor it’s not just political, it’s personal.
my daughter was in spain this past month and got to be there as they won the world cup, and it was really special. i was so happy for her and celebrating right along with her and with spain, where we will be moving in a month.
then i went to my spanish class a few nights later, and my teacher is from argentina. she was so upset with all the racist hate that has come toward her country since the game.
as i don’t follow the news anymore, and don’t read much of anything besides what i read here, i didn’t know what she was talking about. after she explained why, it made me think about race and polarization. it even made me think about fifa itself, and how corporations so often put money over humanity.
and it makes me wonder if part of the reason so many of us feel this sadness, or this loneliness that won’t go away, is because we live with so much that doesn’t feel right.
maybe we’ve lost our ability to come together.
my daughter’s host dad wouldn’t speak to her or her american roommate from their program until a few weeks into their stay, when they said they were anti trump.
only then would he talk to them.
and this is how it is in a world where the biggest bullies are allowed to call all the shots. and where human decency gets thrown out for sensationalism.
and when it comes to morals, i have to wonder, even in my own personal life and the falling out that has happened and the taking of sides, why can’t we all agree that certain moral principles should be upheld?
and how can we get to this if we can’t even discuss these things anymore?
it makes me so sick of all the hate.
sick and tired.
i recently wrote something here about feeling the type of tired that doesn’t go away.
and a sadness for things i can’t even name.
or when i do try and name it, all i can feel is this existential sadness.
i hear the phrase in my mind:
“e.t. phone home.”
and i realize i’m tired of the battles.
i’m tired of the hate.
i’m so tired.
even at a festival like this that celebrates all the good things in life…
still i miss unity in the world.
i miss community in my real life.
i miss connection.
i love substack because i get a glimpse into your souls when you write.
but why in real life do most people walk around hiding what they are really feeling?
as my daughter said tonight, the one who is back from spain, as i’m warming up quesadillas for dinner on the back of finn’s pickup truck, “mom, why won’t you smile for the camera?”
and i didn’t at first know what to tell her.
she asked if it had to do with the conversation, as i was telling our long-time family friends about the fallout with my own family.
and i said, yes, it was partly that.
but what i didn’t say was that it was that, and also so much more.
a tiredness i can’t quite name.
a sadness that comes in waves.
i feel home is in my heart, but what about the home where humans can exist in love and harmony?
where egos don’t battle endlessly and children aren’t abused…
where the forests aren’t on fire and the countries aren’t bombed.
e.t. phone home.
that’s just how i feel.
i miss the home where these things exist.
does it exist somewhere “out there?”
and is it something we could make here?
can we bring home here?
i’m a writer, speaker, and musician exploring what it means to be human through the lenses of trauma, neuroscience, and spirituality.
in my writing i ask the question, who are we beneath our survival?
i’d love for you to join me. thanks for being here.
I really love your honesty and vulnerability in this piece my love
This was a great piece.