The blessing, if we may call it that, about the next four years is that we already know the broad strokes of what's
coming. We can get into the details of the hellscape later, but I'm talking about the parts which will directly repeat Trump's first term. Loud and repeated lies, every single day, each absurdity
building on the last. That is how fascists and oligarchs grind down our psyches. It's exhausting.
(It also gives us ammunition for ridicule, but we'll get to that.)
Our job right now is to do some preparation work for our future
selves. Future-us will be assaulted with poison every day. We will
need at our disposal every ounce of balance, every moment of joy, and every coping mechanism we can get our hands on.
The trick will be to turn these into not merely ways of surviving the
onslaught, but ways to strengthen and renew ourselves as we go.
Self Care
First things first. Keep yourself alive. Keep yourself healthy.
Most Americans don't get enough sleep as it is. Since the election, I've gone from bad to much worse, sleep-wise. I don't necessarily advocate tossing pills at our problems, but I have had better luck with them than without them so far.
Listen to your body. Whatever it is you need to do to maintain your most basic functions, make it routine. Make it frictionless. Make it less hassle to do the right thing than not.
It's not just meds and exercise. Maybe a cupboard door that doesn't quite shut right gives you a bit of micro-annoyance every day. Maybe that one rug keeps getting smushed under the door. Fix it. Change it. This is the time to experiment. Draw some new boundaries for yourself. Remove some old ones. Bad changes are coming; make some good changes in your own life, however little. Let them pay dividends.
Set up your future drained self to be just that little bit less drained every day.
Drop the Baggage
Society's emergency safety hatch has blown off the hinges. If there was a time for half-measures and second-guessing yourself, that time is over. Our hands are going to get dirty. We are going to experience a whole slew of things we don't feel ready for. Believe it or not, though, in some ways, we are over-prepared.
Any clutter you're not sure you want to keep, get rid of. Any apps on your phone that add more anxiety than value to your life, delete. Any ritual you've been keeping which is not helping you, let go. Let go of the baggage in your surroundings and inside your head.
For years I used to refuse to say his name; I was genuinely traumatized. But in practical terms, I may as well have been cowering in fear. I was effectively superstitious that saying the name had dark magical powers, like summoning Beetlejuice. He even ruined the number 45 for me. That foul-mouthed fucker tainted my own current age! Well, screw that. I am not going to dance around the name "Trump". I am going to spit it out, and I'm going to stomp on it. I'm not ceding two perfectly fine numbers, either.
The good news is, with the hatch blown, the pressure is off. We have been carrying around a heavy set of defense mechanisms and elevated behaviors and well-groomed categorized thinking patterns, and none of that will help us now. Don't get me wrong -- stay civil. Stay professional at work (in fact, step it up if you can) but, "out in the world", you're going to have to let that armor go. It didn't protect you, it isolated you. Those ivory towers we're accused of looking down from? Time to leave. We stayed in touch with the facts and the truth, and we lost touch with others. The isolation was comforting, but it screwed us all. It's time to drop it.
Joy and Supply Lines
This crazy late-stage capitalist civilization of ours is awful at solving actual real problems. But it's incredibly good at letting us buy a constant stream of pretty much anything we might want. We can start there, with something little. When future-you, battered by nonsense day after day, picks up your mail, let's give them an occasional present. A monthly selection of mixed nuts, a subscription to a retro gaming magazine, a daily photo of a cloud, there is no judgement here. Future-you is going to have a lot of truly bad days. If present-you can help brighten those days, and it doesn't strain your budget, treat yourself. You will need those little moments.
Maybe money is too tight for more subscriptions, or maybe that's just not your thing. No problem. Schedule a monthly/weekly dinner with that couple you said you wanted to hang out with more. Start a regular video chat with that funny friend who moved away. Dig up your DVD player and set up your own movie nights. If your own collection would dry up too quickly, ask around and trade amongst friends.
Most importantly, set up ways and reasons and routines to connect with loved ones. We need each other, introverts included. Deliver-to-home subscriptions can help, but robust supply lines need to be a web, a network. Reinforce your local (offline, real) connections. Take walks and trade books with your neighbor's little free library. Or set one up yourself. Participate in the local stuff. Farmer's markets, garage sales, performances in the park. If you have something to bring, bring it. If you don't, bring yourself. You are your own best thing to share! Give the fun little things nearby more room and more influence in your daily life.
Coping Mechanisms
Healthy, unhealthy, we're going to need every means of coping we can get our hands on. Your primary objective is to survive and keep your spark of light as intact as you can. The world needs and deserves the good which you contain. The trick here is to do so in ways which share and amplify your light, in addition to protecting it. Sealing yourself off in an airtight jar will not help you or anyone else.
Humor
Humor is the best coping mechanism, in my opinion. It's free, it's contagious, and let's be honest: all of this would be hilarious if it weren't so crushingly sad. Let your thoughts out. Make your jokes, good or bad. Share your humor. You need it. We all need it.
The correct reaction to fascism is not fear. It's mockery.
We don't even need to have quick wits or train ourselves to come up with material on the spot. Project 2025 is a well-documented horror show of all the disastrous and backwards things they're going to try. Each one of them (the policies and the people) are absurd and ridiculous. Get to ridiculing! These are uniquely dark times, but the general shape remains the same as every other example of GOP jackassery since at least Regan: stealing from the poor and giving to the rich. It's as ripe as could be for mockery when you say it out loud. So mock it, out loud.
Some days are going to be very hard, and the humor won't flow from within. Find and collect some sources that fit for your sensibilities. Cast a wide net! We will not get through this unchanged, and your sense of humor is going to change too. Darker, probably, but our tastes will also react to this sorry world in interesting ways we don't anticipate.
Find something local you can physically attend which will bring humor into your life. I'm an amateur movie-maker, and I cannot tell you how much richer and more joyous my life is thanks to things like the 48 Hour Film Project and Scream It Off Screen. It's not all comedy, but that's a good thing. There's always humor in the process. The point is, set up a grab-bag containing humor for your future self. Life will supply the bad surprises; let's supply ourselves and each other with good ones.
Hobbies
Humor is the broadest coping mechanism, and hobbies are the deepest.
I talked about watching and making and sharing movies. It goes beyond being a source of comedy for me; it's a part of life where I have a voice. I express a piece of myself when I scribble down an idea or set up a shot or cut a sequence together. It's not always a piece I'm proud of, and I won't pretend to be a skilled or accomplished artist, but that is not the point.
The point is to pour parts of yourself, consciously or otherwise, into a work or a project. Or an event, or a performance. Or a garden. Or a party. Or a recipe. Or a puzzle. Or a coloring book. I'm a grown man who spent an hour with a coloring book within the last week, and I don't care who knows it. We explore, or we retreat. I say we explore.
Uncertainty and shame, fear of judgement, fear of failure, that's all armor and baggage. There are things you want to do, and things you will want to do that you don't even realize yet. Take the plunge. Do the things. Abandon the attempts which aren't fulfilling. Share the results if and when you are ready. ...No, I take that back. Share them, period. Maybe just with your partner. Maybe just among friends. Maybe online. Maybe in a theater. Not everyone will get it, and not everyone has to. Share your light. Whether the nearby surfaces absorb or reflect it is not up to you.
Alcohol
Some of us basically drank our way through 2017-2020. It's not the best of coping mechanisms, and I don't recommended it for every-day use. Still, for many of us, realistically, alcohol will be part of surviving this. That said, don't just drink to forget! Start conversations; meet the people you see at the liquor store or the bar. For us introverts, that's tough. Luckily, the ice breakers are right there.
"What's your beverage?"
"Yep, that's the good stuff!"
"Uff, I got sick on that once and haven't forgiven it yet."
"Ooh, I haven't tried that, paint me a word picture."
It doesn't matter who. Quick friendly banter when grabbing some booze is a good habit (arguably attached to a bad one, but still). It shares your light. It also gives future, ground-up-you some oxygen for your light, in mocking the daily madness.
"I love my country even when my side loses. Today, I need the beer goggles."
"This ought to get us through today's scandal. See you tomorrow!"
"Every time Trump says a fictional character talked to him, we take a shot; I better grab another bottle."
What Have We Learned Today?
One of the hardest and most important things we will need to do, for these next four years and beyond, is to listen. We need to speak to, and connect with, and relate to (and be relatable to) people we have allowed trained ourselves to avoid. It won't always go well, but it is required of us to make a real effort and meet people where they are. Their worries and world view are alien to us, and that's bad. The blame game is unhelpful. Leave as much of it as you can with the rest of the chucked baggage.
We need to listen. To everybody. Even the stupid. It's going to shock us how much we learn from the stupid. (I don't like such name-calling, but that's the thing; this is going to be uncomfortable. Stuff I think and say and write will be wrong.)
What did you learn today? Make that question routine. Many nights, we won't like the answer. Some nights, we will be in such a woeful survival mode that our answer will be "nothing". No use beating ourselves up over that; we try again tomorrow. But at the end of the day, every day, ask yourself what you have learned. Ask your friends too. Sometimes you'll learn conflicting things. Your brain will hurt. Patterns may not emerge in satisfying ways. But make the habit. We need it. We need to learn about each other, about our fellow Americans, and ourselves.
Coming Next
I called this part zero, because I intend to follow up. I don't know what or when "Part 1" will be. All the mixed feelings will hit us all in waves, with wildly-varying timings. We will know what chaos truly feels like. And we will help each other through it. There is no other choice.
