Conundrums abound with no easy answers. Living with these questions is powerful. Thanks for surfacing the tension with real life examples. I know this tension in my body, your questions are my questions too and this discernment of when I stay and when I go. How much is enough?
Beautiful take on the tensions of life, Lindsey. Balance is hard. Feeling into what it looks like, knowing what feels off, recalibrating—it’s all part of finding what helps us feel most present to our truths and needs and those of our larger communities. Thank you for sharing. And so very glad you and your family are OK and so very sorry you and your family are living among such devastating destruction.
Lindsey, as always you strike just the right chord and tap into a universal (at least among thinking, empathic humans)—how do we strike that balance? I never miss reading your Substack, which always makes me think more deeply about these conundrums we all face, especially during tragic times. Also: thanks for letting us know which organization you trust. Donation: ✅
I'm so glad you wrote this. We all need perspective on the suffering in our southern states. And we should do something or anything. But I would argue that when "Rome burns", getting your children out was the right thing to do. You have choices but they do not.
Should you fiddle while Rome burns? “If you are a fiddler, yes. If you are a fireman, no.”
I love that so much. It's sending me down a thinking spiral. The different responses from those readers also just show how difficult it is nowadays to get anything right and we're all very ready to judge others. Honestly it sounds like you did what was right for your family in that specific moment - I believe that's all that should matter.
So well said, as always. And you wrapped up with a concept I've been chewing on for a couple of years now. I think we show up for people best by giving our gifts. And we all have different ones. And sometimes they change. But a lot of judging happens when we assume other people should show up the way we do, failing to recognize the strength in everyone giving the way they uniquely can.
Lindsey, I'm so sorry for the incredible destruction in your area, especially Asheville. Fiddling while Rome burns reminds me of the cellist of Sarajevo, who took his instrument to the street once a day, in the very midst of the street battles, to play in memory of civilians who'd been killed. Creating beauty in the midst of tragedy is, indeed worthwhile. When I was a kid, a family friend who'd been recently widowed took her 4 kids to church on Christmas morning, during which her house burned down. My parents asked me and my 5 siblings to choose a toy to give to our friends, who'd lost all of their Christmas gifts. We spent the day refurbishing toys--I remember cleaning and mending doll clothes--and it was one of my most meaningful Christmases. Perhaps your kids can so something similar?
I almost included the cellist but ran out of time. Thank you so much for mentioning it. I love your memory and the incredible impact of it—that’s exactly what I hope to do when we get back home. ❤️
Conundrums abound with no easy answers. Living with these questions is powerful. Thanks for surfacing the tension with real life examples. I know this tension in my body, your questions are my questions too and this discernment of when I stay and when I go. How much is enough?
Beautiful take on the tensions of life, Lindsey. Balance is hard. Feeling into what it looks like, knowing what feels off, recalibrating—it’s all part of finding what helps us feel most present to our truths and needs and those of our larger communities. Thank you for sharing. And so very glad you and your family are OK and so very sorry you and your family are living among such devastating destruction.
Thanks Holly. ❤️
Lindsey, as always you strike just the right chord and tap into a universal (at least among thinking, empathic humans)—how do we strike that balance? I never miss reading your Substack, which always makes me think more deeply about these conundrums we all face, especially during tragic times. Also: thanks for letting us know which organization you trust. Donation: ✅
You’re the best. ❤️❤️❤️
https://open.substack.com/pub/hilaryconnors/p/disoriented?utm_source=share&utm_medium=android&r=1ksyw1
I wrote a little about the flooding here too. Just to share...
Hilary
I'm so glad you wrote this. We all need perspective on the suffering in our southern states. And we should do something or anything. But I would argue that when "Rome burns", getting your children out was the right thing to do. You have choices but they do not.
Should you fiddle while Rome burns? “If you are a fiddler, yes. If you are a fireman, no.”
I love that so much. It's sending me down a thinking spiral. The different responses from those readers also just show how difficult it is nowadays to get anything right and we're all very ready to judge others. Honestly it sounds like you did what was right for your family in that specific moment - I believe that's all that should matter.
So well said, as always. And you wrapped up with a concept I've been chewing on for a couple of years now. I think we show up for people best by giving our gifts. And we all have different ones. And sometimes they change. But a lot of judging happens when we assume other people should show up the way we do, failing to recognize the strength in everyone giving the way they uniquely can.
Yes!!! We judge other people AND ourselves. But we’re just not all cut out to respond in the same way.
Thanks for describing the tension many of us have been feeling this week. The answers are never simple, are they?
Lindsey, I'm so sorry for the incredible destruction in your area, especially Asheville. Fiddling while Rome burns reminds me of the cellist of Sarajevo, who took his instrument to the street once a day, in the very midst of the street battles, to play in memory of civilians who'd been killed. Creating beauty in the midst of tragedy is, indeed worthwhile. When I was a kid, a family friend who'd been recently widowed took her 4 kids to church on Christmas morning, during which her house burned down. My parents asked me and my 5 siblings to choose a toy to give to our friends, who'd lost all of their Christmas gifts. We spent the day refurbishing toys--I remember cleaning and mending doll clothes--and it was one of my most meaningful Christmases. Perhaps your kids can so something similar?
I almost included the cellist but ran out of time. Thank you so much for mentioning it. I love your memory and the incredible impact of it—that’s exactly what I hope to do when we get back home. ❤️