How to Keep Going
by Jean Wittman
When I asked for ideas on how activists can keep themselves going, my wise friends had suggestions.
This was at a gathering of five at Blake’s house, and I’d put the gathering itself on a survival list. We talked and ate, petted the cat and watched him play, and then played a game and laughed ourselves silly. I felt restored at the end of that day, and also tired enough to sleep well.
What Blake recommended were the small kindnesses that make a day easier. She passed on this idea from a group that includes her friend Sharon. Blake suggests letting the other driver merge in front of you or go first at the intersection. You could wave someone ahead of you in the grocery aisle. These are the tiny moments that can ratchet up our anger and tension--or ease it. If we’re walking a road without a sidewalk, what does it cost us to signal thanks to the driver who moved over? This reminds me of Pema Chodron’s advice about hardening our hearts or softening them. It seems easier to harden ourselves to keep the world from hurting us, but if we want to make progress and connect with others, softening the heart is the better choice. To her credit, Pema Chodron doesn’t suggest it’s the easy choice.
I think it was Pat D. who suggested turning off the news. She stays informed but does it thoughtfully. How much news can we digest? How often do we really need to listen to a rehash of outrage at words from #47? Picking a few trusted sources makes sense, and so does limiting our consumption of commentary.
All of us in that room, it turns out, are watching one old series or another. It’s a bit of comfort to step into the world of Carol Burnett, for instance, and laugh when the cast is trying hard not to crack up themselves. I’ve been working my way through several old mystery series on PBS, where the rules of decency seem to be intact for most of the characters. Nobody is suggesting that we live entirely in these worlds. Obviously, we have work to do. But a brief break from the current reality can be restful.
Betsy commented on how we talk and listen to each other. During our conversation, someone had said “As Betsy mentioned earlier . . .” and it made her feel good. Someone had listened to her and thought about what she’d said. We all nodded, recognizing that feeling.
It reminded me of a group meeting not long ago. We paired up and listened silently to another person’s experience of living through 2025 so far. I expected people to be hesitant to talk, especially if they were paired with someone they didn’t know well. Not true. That room buzzed. For all the talking we’ve done in the past 11 months, I’m not sure we’ve felt heard. The sense of truly being heard provides something essential, including a sense of relief.
So, there we are, courtesy of some of my favorite older women: gather with people you enjoy, do small kindnesses, turn off the news, watch something comforting, and listen actively to one another. Hardly rocket science, yet actions that can keep us afloat.

