If you know me, you know that 2024 was a hot mess. If anything could be broken; be it a leg, a heart (miss you, Dad), or any number of plans… it wasn’t just broken, but shattered. Sort of like Humpty Dumpty after the fall. Or the most stereotypical country song. 

You know, bleak.

Despite all that went wrong (rotten floors in the cabin, dead laptop, ceiling leak in the bathroom) I was able to still laugh. Honestly, I still feel this surge of gratitude whenever I remember that there were a couple of times on this journey when it looked like I wasn’t going to make it, and yet for some reason, here I am.

I kept waiting for despair to set in, or that nihilistic sense that everything was for nothing, and that waking up in the morning simply wasn’t worth it. That time never came. 

Well, not until January 20^th.

What has followed has been wave after wave of grief. Despair – because I’ve worshipped alongside immigrants and asylum seekers who have taught me what it means to trust in God. Or perhaps because I’ve known federal employees on various levels of government who cared deeply for the work they did, as well as the country they served. I feel despair in remembering how I’ve danced at the weddings of trans folx, and I’ve officiated at same-sex marriages and know that Love is Love (but apparently hate is also hate). I grieve what has happened in the last few weeks, and fear what is yet to come as the powers that be strive to Make America White Again.

The despair I avoided last year now invades my dreams and decimates my hope, but, $#&*(@, I didn’t live through last year to give in now to despair. I’m reclaiming my hope. 

1. I’m focusing my time and energy locally. There is nothing I can do at this juncture to repair what is occurring on the national/global level. My own backyard is a different story.
2. I’m limiting my intake of news – a summary in the morning (thanks, NPR/Up First and 440) and a quick read of the local stories in our city’s paper.
3. I’m shopping locally. Period.
4. As much as I love keeping in contact with folks on FB, IG, and Threads… I dislike giving money via ad revenue to Meta. I’m done. Find me at SubStack and Bluesky (Rabbitridge) unless they also join the sycophant parade. I’ll be deleting my accounts in the next few days.

I know the above may come off as virtue-signaling, but my purpose in sharing this is to encourage those who feel despair to find something (anything) that can make a difference where you are… and to keep being who YOU are. 

Thanks for taking time to read this rant. I’m grateful for the incredible people whose lives have somehow become intertwined with mine, and if you’re reading this… that means you. – Karen