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Whatup Reader!
So, y’all know that I’m very much a cat person (if you don’t know, now you know), but a little more that 2 years ago I became a dog parent to Moose, the sweetest dog ever, and quickly learned that being a dog parent means walking. Every day.
Lucky for me, Moose loves a ride in the Jeep, but could care less about going on a walk.
Given that neither of us are itching to just be walking around town, over the past few months I’ve unintentionally cut our walks down to pretty much just potty needs and sniffaris (shoutout to @rundisneydpt for that one), but we ain’t walking miles and miles.
I took Moose for a longer walk last week and she was…less than super well behaved, and honestly, I take full responsibility because we stopped going on longer walks. So, I committed to taking her on “longer” walks more regularly, and we started this week.
Yesterday, while walking, an older woman rounded the corner we were approaching and sat down on the short wall that enclosed the corner yard. She had two plastic grocery bags with her from the grocery store that was a few blocks away and you could tell she was tired but ok.
I smiled, said hello, and asked her if she needed help getting the bags home.
She said no, she only had another block to go and just needed a short rest.
Me being me, I of course stopped to chat, and she told me she was in town from Fresno, visiting her grandkids. That’s when she started dropping bombs.
She told me that they didn’t have anything at the house. “Not even soap to wash their faces.” So she had gone to the store to buy the things herself.
No, she was not asking me for money or trying to elicit sympathy or anything like that.
You could hear the frustration in her voice, and it honestly just felt like she wanted someone to vent to. So Moosey and I obliged.
After a few minutes I once again offered to carry her bags, but she complemented Moose, thanked me for stopping and being kind, and sent us on our way.
Mind you, this sweet old woman was telling me how her grandkids (FWIW she said they were in their 20s, not like, little babies), who live just a few blocks from me, have so little, meanwhile we’re having this conversation across the street from a house that is for sale and listed at $1.8 million.
Which brings me to the lesson for today’s email: Triaging.
You may wonder why in the world I took such a roundabout path to get to a lesson about triaging. More flies with honey. I know some of these present-day topics be heavy AF for some folks, so I try to pad the impact with puppies and kittens.
Shit is fucked up right now. Let’s be honest, it’s been fucked up, but being alive in the information age, with access to social media and AI, means we’re constantly bombarded with some new fucked up shit, every single day.
What are we supposed to do?
Really though?
We gotta triage.
When I taught my in-person course, Moving with the Maestro, one of my favorite slides explained how I believed that we as physical therapists should treat like fire fighters.
For the years leading up to my course I had believed that the correct order of operations was to treat the symptoms then find the cause, and I was delighted when my battalion chief friend explained to me that that was in fact how firefighters operated as well.
So, back to my rhetorical questions from earlier: What are we supposed to do?
We triage.
Am I safe?
Are other people safe?
What caused this and what can I do about that?
Worth noting, I said “Am I safe” not “Am I comfortable”. Disagreement does not automatically mean you’re not safe. Discomfort does not automatically mean you’re not safe.
I am very fortunate. I am very safe.
That 4-minute convo yesterday on the corner reminded me that other folks in my very community are not as fortunate. They’re not as safe.
And I can do something about that.
Every single minute of every single day we’re faced with decisions. Lots of them.
It’s come to my attention that one of my gifts in this life is the ability to see things clearly and make decisions quickly.
I can triage.
In previous emails I’ve given the advice that if overwhelmed by options, start with the thing you care about the most. I still stand by that advice, but I also know that many folks are like dope ass worker bees and thrive when told what to do.
I’m not saying that I’m the queen bee, but allow me to offer up an action item as the continued government shut down threatens to severely impact SNAP benefits starting November 1st.
If we put on our triaging hats, people eating is absolutely at the top of the list.
My task for you, if you’re a worker bee that’s overwhelmed by all the options and information and just wants to help:
Google (or ChatGPT or whatever search mechanism you want to use) your local foodbank and find out how you can support them. Then do that that thing.
It could be a monetary donation, food, hygiene supplies, volunteering, you’ve got options.
This might require a phone call (yes, I made a phone call yesterday), but I have faith in you.
No one is coming to save us, but that’s ok, because we can save ourselves, and we can save each other.
Happy Tuesday, Reader.
Maestro out.
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