Republished with permission from John Pavlovitz

Lately, I daydream about the things we could all be doing over the coming years if we didn’t have to work tirelessly to protect ourselves from the incoming President and his rogues gallery Administration. I imagine you do, too.

Tens of millions of Americans are exhausted, depleted, worn to the bone right now. Since November 5th, many of us have quite literally not stopped: consumed with tending to our social media feeds, participating in the work of equality, grieving the seemingly hourly barrage of bad news, arguing with strangers and family members, trying to anticipate the incomprehensible around the corner.

And most of us, whether we realize it or not, are doing it all to the detriment of something else: our physical health, our creativity, our marriages, our children, our mental state, our faith pursuits, our simple enjoyment of this life—a life which, by the way, we are smack dab in the middle of right now and in great danger of missing.

With every yes we say to the healing of the world, we are saying no to something else, and as someone who has said yes as much as I can lately, I realize that I’ve often passed on some really important, beautiful, life-sustaining things—and these things are as precious and fleeting as the seconds that tick away.

As we resist all that is here and all that is coming, there are a few things we can’t forget to do right now:

Be relentlessly present. Most of us were already perpetually tethered to our devices long before November, but right now such uninterrupted negativity is altering our ability to be wherever we are and whoever we’re with at a given moment. Your story is currently in progress. Your children are growing at blinding speed, your friends are struggling with divorce, your parents are getting older. They deserve the best of you. Yes, staying informed and engaged in the world is critical, but there is life happening across the table or on the couch or playing in the backyard—and we can’t afford to miss it, or this once-in-a-lifetime, never-to-be-repeated second. Cease doom-scrolling about what is in the distance and in the future and see the small world within arm’s reach right now.

Cultivate nourishing relationships. Chances are this election has strained your connections with people, even if you’re not aware of it. As you pour energy into the pushing back against hatred and the opposing of inequity, people around you are experiencing a deficit; of your attention, your availability, your patience—the best version of you that you can give them. Sometimes they will let you know as much, but most of the time you’re going to have to be self-aware and realize that because they love you, they’re willing to accept less of you. Fight hard not to force them to have to.

Lavishly care for yourself. Most of the people I know are neglecting the elemental, sustaining practices right now in some way: eating well, sleeping, resting, praying, meditating, exercising, finding silence. These things may seem less urgent than the headlines and new alerts but they aren’t. They help recalibrate your brain, replenish your body, and they allow you to do the work you do better and be better as you do that work. Don’t let your personal health become a martyr to your activism.

Fall in love again. There are lots of things you’re probably not doing or doing far less than you were before November: songwriting, cooking, dancing, gardening, building, scrapbooking. I don’t know what activities give you joy or make you feel alive—but carve out time to do them, because they too are therapeutic and sustaining, and they make these days more than the angst and urgency of the moment. Following your muse and tending to your dream are still noble and nonnegotiable journeys.

Have a belly laugh. Not long ago I spent time with my mother and siblings. We rarely get in the same room together because of our geographic distance, but for a few days we sat around a table, just eating and sharing stories—and laughing to tears. It was a reminder to me that joy is an elixir and laughter is medicinal, and they are critically important to helping us sustain sanity in decidedly insane circumstances. It is not ignoring the dire things in this life or disrespecting hurting people to spend time experiencing joy. Laughter is an offensive weapon against hopelessness.

Clarify your why. We all have a reason we get up in the morning. It is the thing that energizes, propels us into the day, and makes the painful and unspeakable stuff we encounter a lot more bearable. For you that that might be a group of people or a cause or a moral code or a theological conviction or a sense of meaning. Your why may have become obscured by the events of the day but you need to recover it and guard it with your life because it is a sacred thing. Don’t lose your purpose as you enter into the fight.

So yes, the work of resisting injustice, of protecting diversity, of demanding equality have never been more necessary or urgent, but while we spend ourselves on behalf of these things, we need to make sure that we don’t miss life happening right in front of us.

Some things you may want to stop doing in order to survive the live shit show we’re immersed in: pleasing people, procrastinating away a dream, compromising your convictions, wasting time, getting angry at stuff you can’t control.

In days like this, living well isn’t just the best revenge—it’s also the greatest resistance.

Take care of yourselves and those around you.

Be encouraged.