It was July fourth when I sat in a lawn chair under a clear blue sky, surrounded by my daughter, husband, and some friends. From the Fifth Street bridge, we watched the sunset over the river and chatted about families, dreams, and the comical events that decorate our lives.
Suddenly, as if straight from the antagonists who spar on Capitol Hill, a black cloud appeared, loomed, and burst. Hundreds of easy, breezy patriots transformed into mad dashers racing down the bridge, dragging coolers, chairs, and children with them. There was not one umbrella, not a single rain slicker in sight. No one was prepared for this unforeseen shift in the climate.
By the time we scrambled into the house, we looked like renegade feminists protesting a wet t-shirt contest.
Even though the rainstorm washed away our plans, there was no cursing, blaming, or whining. We dried off, laughed it off, had a nightcap, and went to bed.
I felt a little sad as my head hit the pillow on this Fourth of July. Not because we missed a fireworks show, and not because my $8 dress bled all over my $50 bra. I was blue because I missed the spirit of camaraderie that once vibrated throughout this country.
We must see that it is not the government that creates this country, it is each of us. With the vitriol consuming our media and permeating our lives today, I find myself turning up the heat on my personal mantra:
Like many Americans, I feel the weight of national turmoil in deeply personal ways. Each time we gather with friends, family or colleagues, the chaos and conflict in our country threaten our potential for joy. We could allow our conversations to be consumed by the escalating unrest. Or, we could pretend all is well by neutralizing our chatter as we nosh on over-priced groceries and talk about our dogs.
I refuse to obsess over the darkness lest I give it the power to diminish my spirit. But denying the reality is equally disturbing, a feckless escape that erodes our compassion. So how do we respond? I choose to approach the despair with the same intention I rely on to battle the brain-damaging seizures that have plagued my daughter’s life for the past twenty years. I maintain hope with acceptance anddefiance. With torch blazing, I encourage you to rebel by adopting this stance.
Acceptance: Acknowledge The Battle But Don’t Surrender
I have accepted the battle to protect and repair my daughter’s cognitive function, a journey that has defined me as a woman and a mother. But accepting this battle does not mean accepting defeat. Watching a once academically gifted child struggle to comprehend simple vocabulary is a heartache I will carry for the rest of my life. Yet, I refuse to let grief disqualify me from love and laughter.
Likewise, I have accepted that we are living in a cold, uncivil war of arrogant opinions. But I do not accept it as an excuse to disengage. We can remain grounded in our values while still being open to learning and growth. When we accept the battle, we stop seeing ourselves as powerless. We step into the fight, not with anger, but with curiosity, compassion, and purpose.
If we resign ourselves to despair, we are inviting stress to attack our spirit. Conceding to doom is not an option.
Hope: Sustain Hope With Action
Hope must be rooted in realistic expectations. As a wise manager once told me, “Hope is not a strategy.” We must act, because hope without action is mere fantasy.
Over the years, I have searched tirelessly for solutions to stop my daughter’s seizures. The times I felt the most energetic and optimistic were not when I sat waiting for answers but when I was actively pursuing them—whether at Johns Hopkins for a medical trial or in Los Angeles for alternative treatments.
Today, we can see hunger, addiction, poverty, violence, and hate riddling our nation with despair. “We the people” are united in our frustration with the economy, fear for freedom, rage around human and drug trafficking, gun violence, and the horrors of war. It is not our concern for safety and prosperity that divides us, but in how we address it. We are letting divisiveness and hate expand because we disagree on how to solve the mounting issues. Therefore, we cannot sit back, eat popcorn, and watch it all play out from our sofas. We must act. And that is where defiance comes in.
Defiance: Never Give Up
Every time a doctor told us my daughter had exhausted all options, I responded with defiance. I refused to accept defeat or believe there was nothing left to discover. Today, I remain just as relentless.
“We the people” need this same spirit of determination. Sitting and watching, complaining to our friends, or shaking our heads as we declare people idiots contributes to a collective sense of helplessness. It is time to rise up from our comforts, silence the screens in our hands, and step forward into battle.
Let’s stand up to the zeitgeist of pessimism and despair with the defiance of a strong-willed child. In response, we can bring kindness, love, and connection into every ordinary day. This is not despite the turmoil but in answer to it.
Through my years of studying the brain, I know one thing for certain: We will never change beliefs or influence minds by bashing, belittling, and berating. The brain rejects these attacks. It retaliates, deepening divisions and reinforcing anger.
Whether we want to see it or not, we are in a war—one that is eroding the very foundation of what this country was built on: our right to a peaceful existence and the freedom to pursue happiness as we define it. If we want to create change, we must offer something different—something stronger. Each of us must decide whether to fuel the flames of division or build momentum for kindness, compassion, and love. I choose the latter. And with that—
I hope this Sunday Story made you smile, laugh, and think about how we can change the world.
With love and cheers,
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