When my kids were little, I taught them to say the words “Stop, please” if anyone in the family was doing something that bothered or upset them. I made it clear they had to say the exact words in the exact order. They couldn’t just yell, “Stop it.” Because the words themselves were the cue that you’d crossed a line and really, really needed to knock it off.
I’d say my rule worked about half the time. The rest of the time, I’d hear a string of “stop, please” appeals and understand a certain sibling was not adhering to the rule. Then I’d have to step in, always with a reminder that those words were sacred and needed to be respected.
There have been many times lately when I wish I could say “stop, please” to so many things in our fractured and suffering world. Stop, please, to the violence, the political gridlock, the racial injustice, even the pandemic. The advocate in me does try to find ways to send my pleas out in the world, but I admit this last year my voice came out more as a whisper.
So lately I’ve been focused on myself. What can I stop doing in order to regain my strength, my energy, and my creativity after such a traumatic time? I started by saying “stop, please” to the voices that told me I wasn’t doing enough, that I didn’t have the right to take a break. And then “stop, please” to the voices that chastised me for failing to keep my fears and worries in…
