My Town is Having a Pinto Moment
Living Happy
When my kiddo was twelve, she had a writing assignment, and I shared it on LiveJournal, I think, which is wonderful because it meant that I didn’t lose it in all the ephemera that is life. She was a little afraid to show it to me because I’m a writer. So, I had to beg.
Here it is:
I hate our car (a Pinto). I hate the color (puke green with yellow speckling, yum). I hate the way it smells (road kill skunk). But here we are, driving, driving, driving to the mall. I do not hate the mall at all.
“We need a new car,” I say.
My mom looks incredulously at me.
“Why would we need a new car? This one is perfect. It’s worked for 30 years and only broken down five times.”
“Those five times were all last week, Mom,” I say. “Plus, if we get rear-ended, we explode.”
“Nobody gets rear-ended. Most cars get t-boned,” my mom says as we slam into the rear end of the car in front of us. “Oops.”
My hands smash into the dashboard. “What were you saying about rear-ending?”
“Nothing, honey.” My mom wipes her forehead with her hand. Her hand is shaking. “Are you okay?”
“Well, the air bags didn’t go off or anything.”
“It’s a Pinto.”
“Of course, it’s a Pinto. There are no air bags.”
My mom sighs. She unbuckles her seat belt. “I better go see how bad things are.”
God forbid the Pinto get dinged.
I don’t remember the exact assignment details, but I do remember Em’s (the kiddo) teacher saying, “Your daughter is a writer.”
And I was so proud of Em for writing something fun and funny, but I was more proud of her for womanning up and showing me even though she was afraid to.
She has such a great flow to this, right? But also we really see the mom and the kid and it’s really obvious that it’s us tweaked.
But it also made me think about often how we deal (all of us, not just me and Em) with a Pinto-level crisis where we feel like our reality/life/jobs/community/self is at constant risk of explosion, how anxiety and adrenalin and overwhelm interact, which is something that Brené Brown talks about a lot—or she used to.
In an interview with CBS News about COVID, Brené Brown said,
"I think we are spiritually, physically, mentally weary. I mean, the toll that anxiety, uncertainty and fear takes on us is heavy. I think there's a couple of things. One, we can't see [the virus] and that is like scary-movie-level stressful. Like, we can't see this thing. And you talk about a rhythm of crisis that we're used to. And one of the things that happens in the rhythm of crisis, whether it's, you know — I'm in Houston — whether it's a hurricane or a fire or a flood, we depend on adrenaline to get us through the crisis. And we have been adrenaline-fueled for the last week or 10 days. But it's coming to its end now.”
My town has a lot of tensions in it right now. There are businesses worried about less cruise ships. There are people worried about increasing property taxes. There are people worried about storms and how the island’s infrastructure will handle it. There are people worried about their spouse’s temper, about big bigotries and prejudices, about their kids’ futures, about their aging parents, about their own health.
There are worries and tensions and anxieties everywhere.
A lot of people feel like they are riding in that Pinto and maybe the driver isn’t paying attention. And maybe it’s careening down a foggy interstate and nobody even has their lights on.
That’s a lot to deal with.
"Adrenaline has a short shelf life. It cannot fuel us through a crisis that lasts for six weeks. And adrenaline is, man, it's hard on our bodies. So I think we're coming to the end of an adrenaline-fueled crisis and we're going to have to find a way to settle into this rhythm,” Brown said about COVID. “The only way I can think about it is we have to grieve the loss of normal. At the exact same time, we're trying to find our footing in a new normal."
It’s not just COVID-times. It’s about all those things (and more) that I listed.
Brown talks about how there isn’t a hierarchy of suffering. Us humans like to rank things, but we don’t need to. One person’s suffering doesn’t negate another one’s. And your suffering? It matters too.
That’s true about individuals, but it’s also true about communities.
Brown talks a lot about how you shouldn’t be ashamed to admit that you’re scared or hurt, overwhelmed or anxious. Because when you close off your emotions, you also close off your empathy.
Communities and people can’t get better if they can’t be honest about where the hurts are. Trying to shut up other people because you don’t care about their fears, their hurts? Because you don’t agree with their opinions about one thing or another? That never makes a better community. It makes something one sided or it makes community a lie. Changing your seat because you don’t want to sit next to them? Calling them names? Not much better. Life shouldn’t be about making other people’s lives worse.
There’s another aspect to it: sometimes we get addicted to outrage. We seek out things to be mad about because a little rush happens. Instead, we need to maybe try to reset and get addicted to goodness.
Here’s another interesting quote from Brown before I go. It’s from that same CBS interview.
She said,
"I just ask one question for people who say, 'I don't [show vulnerability].' I say, you know, the definition of vulnerability is uncertainty, risk and emotional exposure. Give me a single example of courage in your life — or that you've witnessed in someone else's life — one example of courage that did not require uncertainty, risk and emotional exposure. And the first time I asked that question, I was with Special Forces at Fort Bragg, and there was no answer. And I've asked [the question] to 10,000 people. No one can [answer].
"There is no courage without vulnerability. I don't want you to be vulnerable and all gooey for vulnerability sake. I hate that crap. That is not my personality at all. I'm just saying that vulnerability is the birthplace of courage. And if we want to be brave, we have to be real. And that requires risk."