Re:Mind PRESENCE UNDER PRESSURE: MINDFUL MOMENTS TURN THE TIDES ON STRESS

Jennifer Childers

The Advocate

It’s easy to get discouraged, angry or downright terrified when watching the news or scrolling our feeds these days. It’s a legitimately scary time, and there are so many things to feel worried, angry or discouraged by that it can be difficult to find a thread of hope and possibility to grasp. I think we sometimes forget just how powerful we are. I know I do. 

The past few weeks have been particularly challenging as I’ve found myself not only adjusting to new roles and routines at school but also navigating new shifts and challenges at home. As a primary caregiver within a five-generation family unit, a full-time student and someone with responsibilities at the paper, when the chaos hits around here, it really hits. 

Add to all that the devastating reality of increased local ICE activity in our community and yet another senseless public killing of an innocent person by a government that — at least theoretically — was meant to protect us. It has been physically, mentally and emotionally exhausting. And that’s just one very privileged, middle-aged white woman’s experience. I can’t begin to imagine what my more marginalized sisters and brothers are feeling right now. It has to be overwhelming. 

The more I sat with it, the more hopeless — and worse, helpless — I felt. I found myself desperately trying to answer the question: In times like these, what can one person, one voice, really do to make a difference? 

That’s when I got a knock on my door. By the time I navigated barking dogs and a floor full of pillow forts and scattered toys, the knocker was gone. But there was a card on the doorstep and a small bag of dog treats. 

As I leaned down to pick it up, I couldn’t help but smile. Lissa, the elderly woman who lives down the hall, had sent me a simple note asking if she could borrow some half-and-half or milk for her coffee. She was feeling under the weather and didn’t feel up to navigating the biting wind and cold to go to the store. 

All my worries temporarily forgotten, I went to the kitchen, poured a pint of milk into one of my favorite jars and wrote a quick “get well soon” note for her. My grandson and I walked down the hall and delivered it to her door. She was delighted. 

It struck me then that that little moment of connection had lifted not one but three hearts that day — five if you count my very happy puppies when they received their treats. 

Sometimes, when it feels like the world is falling apart around us, it’s not the big actions that matter most. It’s the small moments of connection and compassion that shine a light in the darkness and remind us that we’re not alone. 

I know things might feel impossible right now, and those small moments won’t necessarily solve the bigger issues. But if a lack of compassion and connection is an undercurrent driving those bigger issues — and I’d contend that it is — then restoring it starts with us. Every little moment counts. 

We are more powerful than we realize.

About This Column:

Re:Mind with Jennifer Childers explores the intersections between student life, mental health, and regenerative living – offering space to pause, reflect, and design a life that nourishes you, your community, and the world around you.