Patriotism & Community, Reflections on this holiday weekend

Earlier today, I walked out of the back door of my apartment, rushing to opening night of Oklahoma (for the box office - I'm not on stage), late, and in the beginning of a panic attack. My brain was working overtime to convince me that I had not done enough that day, that my friends were mad at me or that I had done something wrong in earlier interactions. I've been dealing with my brain long enough to know that these things were false, but even 36 years of practice doesn't always mean I can stop the anxiety when it happens.

So, I rush out the door, planning to get in my car and have a panic attack on the way to the theater, but instead I notice that 2 of my friends and neighbors (literally across the alley) are outside.

In another time in my life (like every day before today) I would have continued to my car and drove away quickly so they didn't see my panic. But today, I put my bag in the car and walked over to say hi.

And guess what?

They were happy to see me.

We had a short conversation about lawn games and our days, laughed about something funny, and enjoyed a moment of sun between the rain clouds. By the time I walked away, my panic attack had abated, and I was excited to show up for the next part of the day.

There is advice for people with anxiety to let others in and share your truth. You learn to be careful with those raw moments because they are vulnerable, and there are people who won't understand or will make it harder. We all have those mental patterns -- the ones that weigh us down or keep us from showing up the way we intended to.

Around large holidays it can be easy to be swept away in the excitement and celebration, or with frustration and disillusionment if you're not feeling connected to the celebratory expressions. Over the course of my life I've run the gamut -- from being excited for the fireworks to being in bed before they began, from celebrating with family to ignoring all the festivities, from feeling connected to my country to feeling disillusioned with the realities I see and experience.

I've felt pressure to pretend, put on an excited, celebratory, patriotic smile and join in, and I've felt the bigness of today's world cause me to feel anxious and unsure of how to engage with this holiday. World events can feel distant from our lives and present at the same time. It can feel too difficult to keep up with everything and overwhelming to try.

Anxiety often stems from the idea that you've done something wrong or that you're not good enough for what you're trying to do or be. In a world where we can be anything, it often feels like we are nothing.

But the reality is that so much of what we need to be is p r e s e n t.

I didn't need to be more for my friends today. I didn't need to do more than I was able to get done. I didn't need to be more during the box office before the show. I just needed to be there.

The magic of the 4th of July in Ely and in so many cities and towns across the country is that we are all present, sharing a moment together. No matter the feelings on the concept of patriotism or current global events, we are all taking a day to share space and show up in some way.

My own relationship to many large concepts has changed much over the last few years. Most of my work is on a computer or screen and I spend too much time on social media which can make the world feel smaller and the events feel bigger.

But every time I look around or step out of my apartment,

I remember how much I love living in this community, with all of you.

Even with my complaints about being very pale and always getting a sunburn over the 4th of July festivities, I will still want to be with you all at the parade and at Semer's.

As someone who loves to read and think about large topics, I invite you to read this post by Lacey, written for the BWC Blog last year, and this post from Ian Lah on his personal website. I found Lacey's emphasis on storytelling and symbolism to be even more true now than last year. The modern world feels like it changes so rapidly, so grounding ourselves in the stories and symbols of our traditions feels particularly necessary. Ian challenges us to think about what we mean when we say we love or hate this country, and to redefine patriotism in our lives as an action that we are responsible for our country and what it becomes.

Both posts included grappling with the meaning, stress, and anxiety of the times while still upholding what we love about this place. Ely as a community is a great example of that. We are a community - we show up for each other, live as neighbors, and find space to enjoy being together. I'm grateful to live here with you and navigate the emotions and complexities of being human in this beautiful space.

As for my thoughts at this moment, I don't know that I have some overall thesis on patriotism. I just know that when I'm at Northern Grounds, walking around the farmer's market, watching Oklahoma (or any NLAA production), or running into someone at Zup's, that I feel proud to be here and proud to be your neighbor.

In every interaction we've had, you've always been enough.

Thank you for living here with me, for being present in the work and life moments. I look forward to seeing you at Semer's.