Yes, it’s a tall ask, but it helps to remember that our brains evolved to perceive the bad to the point that we forget the good
If you’ve been supporting progressive causes for a decade (or even more) now, you might be on the verge of giving up especially with the state of democracy worldwide in 2024, especially in light of the recent US presidential elections, alongside the rise of far-right populism in other countries, the Philippines included.
Why bother when whole cities and nations seem to support forces and causes against their own interests?
Perhaps, what’s stopping you from giving up entirely are: a) The realization that everything is connected, that the safety of your loved ones and descendants depends on the safety of all; b) you’ve seen the beauty worth fighting for in the world; or, c) because you’re one of those rare Waymonds who maintains their faith in humanity no matter how much horrors, big and small, you’ve witnessed (if so, please teach me your ways, I’d like a lifetime subscription).
Still, emotional burnout is real. When Audre Lorde said that self-care is political, she was referring to this, the proverbial warning against pouring from an empty cup. Compassion hurts, as social worker and activist Andrew Boyd wrote.
I’d like to suggest additional perspectives that may add to your existing inner toolbox.
Our brains, as meditation teacher Jack Kornfield shares in a podcast, evolved to protect us against threats. While this works for us when confronting sabretooth tigers as we hunt woolly mammoths, it tends to backfire in a largely civilized world. Let this inform the other insights and tools to follow.
Many of us, myself included, support progressive causes—poverty alleviation, human, women’s, and LGBTQIA+ rights, environmentalism, and more. It might seem that these causes never win, but it helps to remember that if individual life has ups and downs, so does community life.
It helps to remember that if individual life has ups and downs, so does community life
It’s easy to fixate on all the bad news while the good news gets overlooked. Thankfully, channels like The Happy Broadcast exist. Real, grounded, non-toxic positive content.
On that note, it might also help to consider that most social media activities—the opinions, comments, and reactions—are from just a few of the loudest people. Just look at the ratio of views-to-engagements in posts. Now, while we can’t gauge what the majority really think, from this we now know that comments sections really aren’t the space for dialogue, and might just worsen emotional burnout.
As a caveat, sometimes, speaking out online can help marginalized people know they’re not alone.
Finally, it might help to catch ourselves when we “other” people. Yes, other, as a verb. (Note that I didn’t say “other other people”.) It’s easy to fall into this trap, especially when we encounter people whose expressed beliefs run anathema to ours. How could they be so dumb, we ask, so immoral, we sigh, so backward, we scratch our heads?
But remember! She’s just a brain! Protecting us! Against sabretooth tigers! As we hunt woolly mammoths!
It’s precisely at this point when genuine dialogue can happen: When we befriend the discomfort of holding space for life experiences and lifeways unfamiliar to us. I suspect that avoiding this is one of the bigger roots of emotional burnout. But when we allow our egos to go silent, to be open to where people are coming from, we’ll find out we’re not so different.
When we allow our egos to go silent, to be open to where people are coming from, we’ll find out we’re not so different
I’ve managed to do this a few times, with public transport drivers, old friends, and even with professional contacts and elders.
One encounter that stands out was in an art fair I covered. I met a painter who felt safe, thanks to yesteryears’ drug war and increased police presence. It turns out he has a daughter who recently turned 18, and a lot of casual druggies in his provincial neighborhood tended to harass the women there.
It turns out, except in very rare cases, that we want the same things: love, recognition, a space to call home. We largely differ on how we’ll get there. It’s hard to talk abstractly about defunding the police when meeting a father worried about his daughter’s immediate safety.
Equally so, it’s hard to talk about the abstractions of criminology when meeting a widow or orphan of a drug suspect shot dead without fair trial.
Taoists like to sing that if we push, we get pushed back, but if we open ourselves, we in turn are met with openness. Small wonder that vulnerability trumps mind games in relationships. What more in politics?
At day’s end, we have to remember that social media profits from engaging our sabretooth-tiger-spotting brains, selling our attention to advertisers: “Put your ads here because we can keep people hooked!” No surprise then that anger is the most trafficked emotion online.
Taoists like to sing that if we push, we get pushed back, but if we open ourselves, we in turn are met with openness. Small wonder that vulnerability trumps mind games in relationships. What more in politics?
Today, we largely perceive a world populated by fellow human beings afflicted with impatience, repressed anger, and powerlessness. This coagulating of fear and survival instincts has corrupted otherwise well-intentioned institutions and systems.
What will happen if more self-aware, compassionate, and wise people—fully aware of their faults, their duality, thus harder to manipulate—began working together? Especially people who once disagreed? We’ve seen bouts of this happen in history. It’s safe to bet that with the right effort, our children and grandchildren will have something to thank all of us for.