The End Of The World As We Know it?

In May of 1992, Cleveland welcomed a new radio station to the far right of the dial: 107.9FM, "the End." In celebration of the event, the station played the same song for 24 straight hours: "It's the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine)" by R.E.M. Clever, no? Out with the old, in with the new, change is good. I liked the new, I was fine with it.

Today, when faced with the new, I say, "what, me change?"  My Inner peace depends in part on  the outside world operating within certain parameters. Our present culture of "tear it down, worry about it later?" Very disconcerting. Not fine with it. I can't handle the feeling, as I recently heard described, of teetering atop a giant Jenga puzzle while pieces are removed one after another.

I do not think the world as WE know it is ending. There are plenty of folks saying "it's about time," who will cheer when the puzzle collapses. I do think the world as I know it is ending. My world, one where I have some value, where my rights are intact and my beliefs are played out in the structure and policies of the nation. Where at least sometimes I can say, "I'm glad that's happening."  That world is now distant, and I miss it.

So, what to do? Allow me to share some conclusions I've reached about surviving in a time of rapid change.

First, I'm not going to punish myself for not keeping up with the daily drudge that is the news. Somewhere between avoidance and absorption is a middle ground of "selective skimming." I focus on a few topics and a few writers and get out before rising to rage or sinking to despair. In short, I put on my boots before walking the barnyard.  In his recent book, Meditations For Mortals, Oliver Burkman suggests, "...the greatest act of citizenship may be learning to withdraw your attention from everything except the battles you've chosen to fight." I'll leave the tarrif talk to the economists. Libraries and food banks I can handle.

Second, I'm focusing on what I can do. I'm not the president of Harvard (they didn't even ask!) or a billionaire and I doubt I'm willing to go to prison for my beliefs. In Ohio, where state pols are still chortling about how they stifled gerrymandering reform, I have no representation. But I'll continue to write to those claiming that role. I'll also stick to the basics: talk, listen, stay aware of my biases, seek commonalities, remember there is nothing more moronic than calling someone a moron.

Finally, I won't forget that amidst the smoke of the present politico-cultural dumpster fire, the day-to-day must continue. People still need to be fed, educated, housed, cared for, held, supported. Yeah, I get it, governmental changes are making those things harder to do. And, the focus still needs to be on, " let's get it done," not "it's harder."

In May of 1999, "The End" ended, or rather, switched formats.  I didn't like the new one, so I shifted to another station. It's not as easy to dial away from a nation in transition.  On their last day, 107.9FM again played nothing but "It's the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine.)" Still clever, and a brilliant expression of great truths: what is new will become old, what is old will be cast out, change is inevitable.

Will I still be around when the next format arrives, when this new becomes old and is cast out? I don't know. I do know that I will stay in the room, even if I have to turn down the volume. I will seek purpose in the face of powerlessness. I will hang in. Imperfect, yet the only way I know how to still say,

"I feel fine."