Sitting with confusion

Spending time in a garden at home. (Photo by Michelle Bonnet Hale)

By Michelle Bonnet Hale

If you pay any attention to the news, this is a confusing time. If you pay too much attention to the news, as I do, the chaos of life is an overwhelming hubbub. It’s constant, like the tinnitus ringing in my ears, but not as steady as the tinnitus. It’s like being in a racquetball court with 100 people hitting balls. Enough already, my weary brain proclaims.

In talking with friends, I realize that it’s not just me. Choosing what to pay attention to and then what to actually do in this time of frightening political upheaval is baffling. Thoughts I hear from others range from “This too shall pass” to “The next election is critical” to “Our democracy is in an existential crisis and there may not be a next election.” Those of you who know me know that my sentiments tend toward the last possibility, but that is not the point. I am still uncertain.

Yes, when the house is burning you put out the fire, but first … is it a grease fire? Then don’t use water! Is everyone out of the house? What about the dogs? Go get them! But is the fire raging too greatly? Then what do you do?

One feature of our current national administration is that of overwhelm. We can blame the current administration, yes, but I am also seeing my own role. I’m overwhelming myself.

In wanting to keep current, I’m subscribed to at least five different news feeds. I’ve added new social media platforms to my iPhone, which provide insightful, thoughtful content as well as wild, unsubstantiated rumors. Both the rumors and the insight have overwhelmed me. 

Even though I’m no longer working, my email inbox, which I have conquered at various times over the years, has again become a looming hulk in my life. Seeking room to breathe, I’ve finally transitioned to deleting apps and unsubscribing from emails.

Rather than taking my vorpal sword in hand and going snicker snack at the terrifying actions of the current administration, however, I’m pausing just now. Drawing upon my past Buddhist training, I’m sitting with the confusion. One often-criticized aspect of sitting in meditation is that … The house is on fire! You need to do something now! But how do you know what to do beyond simply reacting?

Charlie Angus in “The Second Tower Principle” recalls an active shooter incident he lived through in the Canadian Parliament. While chaos and panic reigned for him and his colleagues, Angus suddenly recalled watching a documentary on the second World Trade Center tower. The unbelievably painful story of the second tower is that after the first tower was hit, many in the second tower numbly continued to work. Some began to evacuate only to turn around and return to their desks. Hindsight tells us what happened next.

After hearing those shots in Parliament, Angus was first stunned and confused, but then slowed down. He took stock. He was “determined to be as methodical” as possible with his decisions.

When you’re out in a boat being buffeted by a wild storm, the only thing to do is to keep your hand on the tiller and your eyes on the waves and maintain your way as you lurch wildly. You are reacting because you must. But when there is a safe harbor, for God’s sake, you turn the bow toward it. You go in to harbor. Drop your anchor.

That’s what I’m doing, right now. I want to do right by my family and my city, my state and my country. I want to do right by humanity. But right now I’m drowning in the panic and urgency and overwhelm. So, I’m breathing and walking and gardening and caring for those I love, and simply allowing my brain to do its work in the background. I know myself well enough by now to know that the synthesis will come and I’ll find my way. I may be on the second floor of a burning building, but I really do have to choose stairs or window as the route out of the building. And that choice takes some kind of a pause.

• Michelle Bonnet Hale’s roots go deep in Juneau and Southeast Alaska. She and her partner share their household with various relatives and three dogs. She served for six years on the Juneau Assembly.