(although I would certainly benefit from actual therapy with a genuine therapist, too. Because that’s the kind of month it’s been.)

Some of the weeds that I tackled this week. The one in the foreground? It’s possibly even more terrible than the blackberry vines! Its seeds have barbed ends that stick to everything: my clothes, my gloves, my hair!

I wonder how you are feeling now that the 2024 presidential election is over and more than a week has passed. I mentioned to someone the other day that I was terrified, and they looked a little puzzled and asked me why?

I was not brave at that moment. I did not say much. Just mumbled something about Elon Musk, that I didn’t think he should be part of meetings with officials from other countries, like Iran. Or Ukraine. But that was only a very small part of what is frightening me right now.

(That is something that I need to get better at: telling people outside of my trusted circle the truth about how the election affected me and why I am scared.)

Maybe whether or not you are terrified by the election results depends on who you love, who you know. If you love someone who is trans or is anywhere on the LGBTQ+ spectrum, or someone who is a legal immigrant, or someone who has a pregnancy that is threatening her life but who lives in a state with abortion restrictions? Then maybe you are terrified, too. Maybe you understand.

It has everything to do with the people that you love.

But here’s the thing. I think we are supposed to love everyone. One of the big commandments that Jesus gives is to “love your neighbor as yourself,” at which point he tells the story of the good Samaritan. Much to the disciples’ surprise (and possibly dismay), in Jesus’ playbook, neighbors care for strangers at personal expense, without regard to race, class, or religion. Without regard to anything. Basically, Jesus is saying that we are to be neighbors to everybody and that everybody is a neighbor. And also? This love is a good thing (though I wonder what it means to love the people who are enacting the policies that are frightening me now. Love for them probably means speaking truth to power, which is scary too, because historically folks who did this often ended up dead).

Anyway.

Lots of our neighbors will be hurt by the policies that Trump is pledging to enact. Also, the earth. The earth will continue to warm. Trump and his cronies apparently do not care.

It’s a lot.

So this week, when sadness and despair threatened to overwhelm me, when I could, I went outside. Outside is what is helping me now. I went outside with my clippers, and I worked again on the invasive blackberry vines that cover a good part of my property. When I am attacking invasive blackberry vines, I am not thinking about the election or who Trump is picking for his cabinet  (the ones he’s picked so far without exception make me sick to my stomach). I called the trash company last week and paid for an extra trash can until the end of the year. It’s about $5.00 extra a week, which pencils out to be cheap therapy for me. You can fit an amazing amount of blackberry vines in a regular outdoor trashcan if you cut them into tiny pieces and smash them down (the smashing and chopping  feel therapeutic, too, a nice way to get anger out). In past years, I paid somebody to come and haul away the piles I made. Feels like I’ve taken some of my power back, by doing the work myself and loading the waste into not one but two trash cans, and sending them off every Friday with the trash collectors.

My mantra these days: When in doubt, go outside.

When in despair? Go outside.

Just go.

I need a list of other things that help, since I can’t be outside every minute of the day. So far my list includes: friends (like all of you who are still here). Writing. Community. Community writing. Hot baths with Epsom salts. Sparkling water (I like Waterloo’s Blackberry Lemonade flavor.) Dark chocolate. Walks with Biscuit. Tea. The library. Chiropractic adjustments. Houseplants. Spreading California poppy and wildflower seeds.

I bet you have other things that you could add. Go ahead and add them below or drop me a note. Maybe we can help each other.

By the way, my friend gave me her surefire recipe for killing invasive blackberry plants. It’s a mixture of salt, strong vinegar like the kind you buy at Home Depot, and dish soap. I’m grateful it rained this week; after the ground dries a bit I’ll go out and spray some of that concoction on the vines’ roots. It will give me another good reason to be outside.