Thursday, October 1, 2026
I was looking for a sharp stick the other night, because I had promised myself that I would rather poke myself in the eye than watch another DJT pop-up press briefing.
This time the president was defending our pop-up war against Venezuela, a military campaign executed flawlessly, except that it might not have been necessary. Might have been another big-time distraction from the slow creep of Epstein files. Might have been an epic waste of people power and money. We caught the wild dog. Now what?
Yet there Trump was last weekend, rambling about how we would now “run” Venezuela, and there I was, watching. He ranted and raved until I zapped him with the remote.
But, dear readers, don’t we have to be very, very careful? Donald Trump may speak extemporaneously in maddening circles, but we must tune in sometimes. We marginalize him at our own peril. He still has the power, and when jacked up on irrational impulses, he can bring down the house around us. Or bulldoze the White House East Wing. Or covet the northern slopes of Greenland.
We are caught in a vise: let Trump into our lives or protect our sanity and space.
In my house, my husband turns on the TV as he walks into or through a room, in the same way that one might turn on an oxygen machine in a dead zone. It’s always there, in the background, too loud, too repetitive, too blathering, too insignificant.
I reach for the remote, and then stop. How will I know what the commander in chief is plotting? There is no authoritative voice for the opposition. Walter Cronkite died 16 years ago.
So we must thread the needle: Try to find reliable news sources and limit our exposure. This is an urgent priority, lest we slip into complacency, or worse.
To get through this fierce winter of freezing weather and cascading political disasters, let’s do our work as citizens. For most of my life, it felt OK to be an observer of the political movements sweeping across the nation, from the unrest of the ’60s through the Obama years. My political activism has been confined to voting, writing and joining peaceful protests.
These times demand more, but what, exactly? We twist in the wind, distressed by the abuses and downright meanness of the Trump administration, yet unable to do anything that feels consequential.
Some people I know have turned off TV news and stopped reading the newspapers, hunkering down in their own lives to avoid the stress of watching disturbing events unfold. That, I know, is a very bad idea. We must stay informed, and at the same time, find and hold a balance. We need space in our days for peace in a chaotic world.
I invite you to examine your own waking hours and consider how much satisfaction and pleasure you experience in any day, in any week. And what are those joyful moments, and how can you — how can any of us — have more of them?
What is the well-spent time before and after work obligations, family duties and monitoring our democracy? The uplifting hours in our days? A simple walk around the block is doable most days. The fresh air blasts away the cobwebs and the brisk wind engages the senses. Going down to the beach, in any weather, lifts the spirit.
Time in the kitchen, preparing a warm meal, feels rewarding. Something in the gathering of supplies, the cooking and the eating seems like a perfect daily experience.
Connecting with friends and family registers as feel-good time, and I make room for that as often as possible.
I do love my work, both my writing and my book groups. Writing, when you’re in the moment, is intense and difficult but fully engaging.
And you? Your truly life-affirming moments? And are there enough of them, or are you slipping, as I have been at times, into too much TV news obsession?
As creatures gifted with self-reflection (most of us, anyway), we can think about the days of our lives, a diminishing supply of a limited commodity. We can decide for ourselves, each of us, how to spend this treasure.
The dead of winter is a good time to live the examined life.
Copyright 2026 Randi Kreiss. Randi can be reached at randik3@aol.com.
