Self-care in these perilous times, they tell us, is critical. The world — well, the US — seems to be falling apart into a political heap of turds and every day brings us closer to the demise of democracy. I make it a point to be in the fight, to write and call my reps, and to stay as current as possible on the latest battles going on in the swamp, but it’s exhausting. Friends tell me that they tune out much of it in order to survive. I worry that if I tune out, I’ll miss whatever slim, minuscule chance I have to make a difference.
I feel the way I felt as I sat by my father’s side in the final weeks before he died. I didn’t want to leave for fear that if something were to happen, I wouldn’t be there to help. Sitting vigil, with my finger on the “help” button, advocating at every turn is how I do the hard times, just so my conscience can allow me to sleep at night. Of course, sleep is still not easy in these times.
But I learned then — as I try to remind myself now — that stepping away is the only way to gather the energy for a new day, the only way to carve the path forward. Sometimes, that stepping away is hard, so I was begrudgingly grateful when my BFF husband coaxed me to go for a ride. “Let’s go DO something!”
Off we went.
The Bay area is full of hidden “travel” gems, those “Bay Area Backroads.” Some aren’t so hidden, but for whatever reason, even after 30 years, I’ve never been. Alameda and parts of Oakland — just 40 minutes up the road — fall into that category, so we went exploring.
As if to really test my mood, my camera broke mid-way through the day — talk about disappointing at the very least! So these few shots will have to do in helping inoculate me the next time I turn on the news.
So, grab your camera and get out into the world. It’s what the doctor ordered.