In Oliver Burkeman’s latest newsletter, which I highly recommend reading in full, he writes:
It’s time to double down on reality. Things reliably spin out of control in human affairs whenever we relate primarily to each other, and the world, through abstract conceptual lenses. That’s what’s going on when we see other people mainly as kinds of people, as members of demographic groups, nations, parties, or representatives of social forces. (And there’s nowhere on the political spectrum where people haven’t been guilty of that.) In a different way, it’s also what’s going on when we spend our days chasing fantasies of one day getting “on top of everything”, or persuade ourselves that real life is coming later, at some hypothetical future point. The antidote to all of this, in the broadest terms, is more reality, more immersion in the finite here and now: more writing on paper; more gathering in person and in public; more looking strangers in the eye; more scruffy hospitality*; more queueing for the supermarket checkout that’s staffed by a human, if there even is one; more feeling the weather on your face and staring into fires; more living as creatures, not machines.
I don't interpret this as permission to pretend everything is fine, or to stop speaking and acting on behalf of what's right. Instead, what I see in this message is a reminder that healing and change can happen on the individual level, and through small distributed networks, even when larger change for the higher good is elusive.
This need for more reality is exactly where my intuition has taken me this week. I'm off all news other than one weekly summary of the highlights (lowlights?). All vaguely newsy podcasts. Still grateful not to be on social media.
I went to the park with friends the day after the election, and the kids made snow angels (leaf angels?) in the ginkgo leaves that had all fallen over the past few days. We all felt better when we left the park than we had on arriving. Not great, but better.
I made elderberry syrup. Played so very many rounds of Dutch Blitz with my kids. Went for a drink with friends in town. Had neighbors over for dinner. Met with clients. Made soup. Went to a birthday party. Donated more money to causes I care about. Read books. Made tea (lots). Prepared a lecture. Joined virtual writing groups. Sent some snail mail.
My point in sharing is that I continue to believe the small things matter, more than ever, and that we can show up as healers not just in the clinic space but by being present in community 
Take care,
Camille
* This link is behind a paywall, but I left it in just in case you happen to subscribe to the Financial Times
